ltbarnes

[ltbarnes]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

[ltbarnes]

Ok I know you said time won't make them nicer to each other.

But I need her reaction to Carlos being diagnosed with appendicitis. Maybe she's the one that takes him to the hospital?!

The Uphill Battle {2} || CS55

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, name calling, angst

WC: 2.9k

Part One

Carlos was grumpier than usual. And that was saying something since he had been in a mood since the news broke about Lewis taking his seat. You could understand that after losing seats to guys all the time before getting a spot in the Academy. Carlos, however, was not used to that feeling and it showed as he pushed himself harder at each training.

“You’re too weak,” he taunted as you wiped the sweat from your brow and started another set of reps with trembling arms. “It’s like you don’t even want to be in F1.”

You let the weight bar fall into the shelf and sat up. “Go project yourself onto someone else, you miserable shit.”

After taking second place at the feature race in Bahrain you had shown you had the drive for F1, but it didn’t seem to change his training approach. He was still firmly on the path of insult until you explode and prove him wrong. To be fair, it had worked so far.

A muscled arm, followed by a bare chest, blocked your way when you stood up, a sneer pulling at his lips. “You’re not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking. Now get out of my way, you have free practice to get ready for.”

He looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. He hadn’t meant to let time get away from him but when he found you in the gym he decided to finish his warm up routine alongside you. It had been a mistake because he couldn’t help but pester and critique you until he completely forgot what he was meant to be doing.

“Fine, but you need to stay and finish your set. That was just embarrassing to watch.”

“I’m done. With you. And with your training. Go fuck yourself, Junior.” You shoved past him, your elbow connecting with his gut, before you made your way to the stack of towels. You felt his presence follow you to the changing rooms and he closed the door to the shower cubicle.

“You’re done when I say you are done,” Carlos growled, turning you to face him before he pressed your back to the cold tile wall.

You tipped your head back and laughed darkly. “Only for the next nine months, then I’m Lewis’ problem. Or, maybe I’ll get the golden boy as my PT. Charles seems sweet and kind, I wouldn’t mind testing his patience.”

“Listen here, you little-” Whatever threat you would have ignored was lost as you flipped the handle of the cold tap and washed it gush out of the showerhead and straight into Carlos’ face.

“You were saying?”

“Brat.” The timber in his voice had the desired effect as his hand enveloped your throat and pulled you under the cold spray. His lips crashed against yours and his thigh nudged your legs apart, your hips riding the thick muscle as you kissed him back just as passionately. “I really hate you.”

You grinned, but it was more a baring of teeth ready to sink into his skin. “I don’t even hate you, that’s how little I feel about you.”

His palm glided over your ribs, touching the flesh bared by the sports bra you trained in, and slipped between the waistband of your shorts. His fingers spread your folds and curled into your core as your head fell back against the tiles.

“You feel something,” Carlos chuckled, dipping his head down to leave his mark on the swell of your breast. “Or you wouldn’t feel so fucking wet.”

“God I hate it when you open your mouth, just fuck me already.”

Carlos pulled the elastic waistband and let it snap back against your skin. The twanging pain was instant but then it was gone as he dragged the material down your legs. Another ache flared as he sunk his teeth into the soft supple skin on your thigh and you cried out at the heat that radiated from the indents he left behind.

“Fucking savage,” you growled, but you both knew how much you liked it that way.

“Sticks and stones, malcriada.”

You were needy, impatient, and well aware someone would come looking for Carlos as the countdown to free practice began. The lure of a verbal repartee would have to wait if you wanted some pleasure to balance out the pain in the arse that was Carlos. You pushed Carlos onto the bench where your dry towel had been abandoned and he lifted his hips for you to drag his shorts off.

“You gonna ride this di-“ You slapped your hand over his mouth to silence him and straddled his hips, sinking down on his cock with a moan that echoed around the changing room.

“Be a good boy and keep the commentary to yourself if you want a happy ending,” you warned as you let your hand fall to his shoulder and started to roll your hips. He heeded your words and bit his bottom lip to keep from saying something that would leave him with blue balls.

His hands gripped your waist and guided you up and down, setting rhythm that had you bouncing on his dick and an orgasm quickly building. The heat flashing across your body was the perfect contrast to the droplets of cold water collecting on your back and shivering down your spine.

“Fuck, harder,” you begged as your head fell back and he grazed his teeth over your throat. Your gasp filled the small cubicle as he nipped sharply at your skin and you raked your nails down his chest, earning a deep groan from his parted lips. The pained sound made your cunt clench and flutter before he suddenly stood up and turned you to face the wall. The emptiness within your body was quickly filled with the snap of his hips and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry at the sudden fullness.

“Shut up and take it,” he ordered quietly in your ear. “This is what you asked for.”

Carlos’ hands fell to your hips, bruising your skin with their harsh grip as he pounded into you. The slap of your bodies colliding filled the small space and your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs began to tremble. Your breathing deepened and you forgot where you were as your mind emptied and your body exploded.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Carlos moaned, your walls tightening around him with your orgasm. A wordless grunt warmed your ear before he sealed his lips over your racing pulse and left his mark while he filled your cunt.

Your forehead pressed to the cool tile as you regained your breath and Carlos pulled out, chuckling as he watched his cum leak down your still trembling thighs. “God, you’re a whore.”

“That’s more of an insult to you, desperado,” you teased. “Should I send the invoice to you or Sainz Senior?”

You forced yourself upright and stepped under the cold spray to see his smirk fade as you washed his seed away. You both jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door and a voice called out, “Carlos, are you in there? You’re going to be late.”

“Just a sec,” Carlos shouted back before attempting to step under the now warm spray. You cast your hands out, splaying your fingers across his torso, catching the pained wince that crossed his face.

“Tsk, tsk, Daddy’s calling,” you said with a shake of your head.

He looked down at himself, the evidence of what transpired glistening on his cock. “Seriously?”

It was your turn to smirk and push him back further before waving him off. “Good luck.”

Free practice was already underway by the time you finished showering and changing into fresh Ferrari merch. No one really paid you any mind as you found a good spot on the balcony above the pit lane and watched the final 30 minutes of track time.

Despite there being better performers, your eyes kept being drawn back to your PT and the lowly 7th place he finished. You had catalogued a list of insults for him and went down to the debrief room ready to rule him up when you found him leaning against the corridor wall. Lines from his balaclava creased his cheeks and his eyes screwed shut as he clutched a hand to his stomach.

“Don’t think playing sick will let you off the hook for that performance,” you said as you crossed your arms.

There was no humour in his face, no wry amusement that usually came with your insults. Instead, he silently pushed off from the wall and made his way on towards the briefing room.

You kind of felt bad as you left the track and returned to the hotel. There had been a misstep in the turbulent dance that had been going on for months and you were left unsettled by it. Nothing on the tv could distract you enough that you finally gave up and took the elevator to Carlos’ floor. It was late but you figured he would still be awake as you knocked on his door.

“You look like shit,” you greeted, but your voice was thick with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the sickly sheen covered his bare chest too. Reaching out, you felt his skin burning like a furnace and he swayed on his feet before leaning on the doorway.

“You don’t care, so just go,” he rasped, his voice pained and weak.

You rolled your eyes and stepped around him to see a sick bowl on the coffee table with some painkillers beside it and a rumpled blanket spread over the couch. He made to follow but he could barely hold himself up and it was only your arms that kept him collapsing. “Fuck sake, Carlos, you need a hospital.”

“Just need sleep,” he argued. His body shivered and his throat worked to swallow but you had been through enough hangovers to know what was coming. You leapt for the sick bowl and barely got it under his face before he hurled up the bright blue electrolyte drink that you spotted on the table.

“Where’s your phone and your keys?” He peeked up from the bowl pitifully and he saw the determined look on your face before pointing to the kitchen. “Can you stand on your own? Don’t look so offended, it’s a reasonable question in your state.”

“I’m fine.”

“And I’m Max Verstappen.” You let go of him for a second to see if he would crumple to the carpet but he seemed to hold himself on pure stubbornness so you dashed to the kitchen to dump the bowl in the sink and grab his belongings.

“Planning on robbing me too?” he asked as he noticed you grabbed his wallet too.

“Since I’m apparently a whore, you owe me a hefty debt,” you muttered sarcastically. “It’s for your ID, asshole.”

Carlos didn’t deign to respond as he curled one arm around your shoulders, leaning heavily into your embrace, and the other clutched his abdomen.

“You’ve been in pain since practice, haven’t you?”

“Maybe…can we just go?”

You pocketed his things and took as much weight as you could off him, using every ounce of your strength training as you guided him to the elevator. It was strange to see him so reserved in the elevator mirror as it headed down to the underground car park and it was even stranger to sit in the driver seat of his car.

“Please don’t crash it,” he murmured as you started it up and headed out into the street.

“I know you don’t believe it, but I am actually a decent driver,” you muttered. The city traffic was busy 24/7 but the satnav came in handy with the directions to the emergency room at the nearest hospital. “Should I call your dad?”

“No. It’s probably nothing but a stomach bug.”

That ‘probably nothing’ turned out to be acute appendicitis. You could have laughed at how spectacularly wrong Carlos was but you were too worried as he was wheeled away to surgery and you were left to make a phone call.

‘Do not call him Daddy Sainz,’ you reminded yourself as you entered the passcode on Carlos’ phone and hoped he wasn’t too delusional to get it right. Thankfully it unlocked and you went to his contacts. “Hello, Mr Sainz?”

“Who is this?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s Y/N, I drive for Ferrari in the Academy, uh, Carlos is my Mentor.”

“Where is my son? Why do you have his phone?”

“He’s at the hospital. They’re just taking him into surgery now to remove his appendix.”

The elder Sainz must had put you on speakerphone as you heard the noises at his end increase. “Which hospital? Why are you only calling me now?”

“King Fahad Armed Forces and you’re welcome, by the way, if it wasn’t for me your son would still be curled up on the couch in his room until it burst.”

“He said you had an attitude,” the old man muttered quietly before he resigned himself to a sigh. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

You sent him the ward number that Carlos would be brought through when he was out of surgery and tried to make yourself comfortable on a vinyl chair. It must have been cozy enough as you dozed off, only waking when a nurse tapped your shoulder and smiled sweetly. “Mr Sainz is on his way up now, the operation went well.”

You rubbed your eyes and thanked her as you sat up to see almost two hours had passed. It was then you noticed a pair of brown eyes were watching curiously from across the room.

“Have you been watching me sleep?” you asked as you stretched and cracked your back.

The old man snorted a laugh and put down the almost empty styrofoam cup of black coffee. “You don’t need to wait, I can look after him from here.”

“And ruin my perfect posture for nothing? I’m fine waiting a bit longer.” You stood up and made your way to the percolator jug of black sludge and poured yourself a cup too before pacing the room. “Have you been talking with the other teams yet?”

His eyes followed you back and forth like he was trying to pick your brain apart. “About what?”

“2025. He’s too good for his F1 career to end now.”

The old man stood up too and refilled his cup. “Would you like milk and sugar?” he asked when he noticed your face scrunch at the first sip.

“Just a tiny dash of milk please, no sugar. I like my coffee like I like my men: a little dark and bitter.”

He chuckled and poured a small amount of milk into your cup before returning to his seat. “I can see why my son likes you.”

You spluttered on your mouthful and hurried to swallow the hot liquid. “You must be thinking about someone else. Carlos and I just about have a mutual understanding, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he borderline hates me.”

“Can’t be too many female Ferrari drivers that he mentors from the Academy, because I sincerely remember his comment about her,” the old man teased, crossing one leg over the other and staring over the rim of his cup. His eyebrow arched, daring you to correct him until he took the silence with an air of smugness.

Sounds grew along the quiet ward and soon Carlos was wheeled in on a hospital bed, parking into the empty space that had been between the two chairs. Though he looked a little sleepy, Carlos was awake and he smiled dopily from where he lay looking up at you.

“The doctors said your testicle retrieval went well.”

His smile broke with a deep laugh and he turned to look at his amused dad. “I see you met her.”

“I did.” Carlos Senior stood up and kissed his son’s forehead. “I’m glad you had her to take care of you, son. I’ll give you a few moments alone.”

You frowned as his dad left the room, waiting for the door to close quietly behind him. “What the hell were you thinking! Why didn’t you say anything? You could have died!”

Carlos shrugged and shifted carefully to get comfortable on this pillow behind his head. “We don’t exactly have the sort of relationship where we talk about things.”

You huffed and lifted his head, fluffing the pillow before shoving it back into place. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Back to the insults, finally.” The sick bastard smiled happily and settled into the pillow with a contented sigh. “For a moment I thought I died and went to heaven.”

“Not funny.”

“Was so, you just care about me too much to laugh. Admit it, you would’ve missed me.” He opened his hand and inched it closer to the edge of the bed.

“They must have given you the strong stuff, you’re clearly delusional,” you said with a roll of your eyes but placed your hand into his palm and he closed his fingers around them. “Your dad seems to think you like me.”

Carlos yawned and closed his eyes, but a smile played on his lips. “That’s probably the beginning of dementia. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t,” you chuckled. A few moments of silence filled the room before a soft snore broke the quiet. Careful not to wake him, you kissed his cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay, Junior.”

“Knew it,” he said as he cracked one eye open and grinned.

You let go of his hand and dropped into your chair with an annoyed huff. “Asshole.”

“Brat.”

[ltbarnes]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

[ltbarnes]

got drunk on you — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x verstappen!reader [6.5k] summary: max comes for a visit before the race in monza and he fails to mention that he'd invited daniel along. warnings: 18+ explicit smut, verstappen!reader, explicit language. a/n: not me writing this during my 12hr shift lmfao i hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read. as always, feedback is v much appreciated. love you all 🤍

The first time you saw Daniel, was when he’d been clad in orange at the paddock in Bahrain. It wasn’t so much as your eyes being drawn to him automatically, but more so his laughter. You still remembered where you stood with Max and his girlfriend, offering words of support to your brother before qualifiers. Your eyes had solely been on him, but they’d immediately glanced around at sound of the big belly laugh from across the paddock, drawn like a moth to a flame.

It wasn’t hard to match the laughter to the smiling face, watching with mild interest as he messed around with Lando; slapping him between the legs and dodging the punches the British boy dished out in retaliation. He looked fun, carefree, bearing absolutely no tension or nerves that half the grid did for the upcoming race.

Daniel was beautiful. There was no other word to describe him. The sheer charm radiating off of him had your interest piqued immediately, and pairing that with the forbidden fruit feeling, you were hooked. There had never been any real desire to break the unspoken rule of you dating your brother’s friends and colleagues, but it was easy to imagine stepping over that line when you’d watched the tall Australian.

No words were exchanged, but you did get glances and friendly smiles whenever you passed each other. Your best friend received the brunt of your inner thoughts, texting her like a madman of the tall glass of water on the grid.

When Max won, you’d gone back to the hotel and had a few drinks while you got ready for the after party, keeping Sofia - your friend - on the line. She’d somehow convinced you to follow him on Instagram, which you did, and you’d tried not to overthink it when he’d sent you a follow request back a few minutes later.

If liking pictures was flirting, then you were well on the right track.

You’d only ever gotten glimpses of him whenever you did end up tagging along to races, but the first time you actually met him was when Max showed up on your doorstep with Kelly, claiming that he missed his little sister and wanted to spend a few days with you before he was off to Monza. You didn't point out that you'd be right there with him in Italy, accepting his intrusion easily because despite it all, you missed him a whole lot.

What he’d failed to mention was that Daniel would be dropping by too, having invited him without checking with you. It usually wasn’t a problem, sometimes guys from the grid would show up with your brother and it was always a good time.

You really, really wished he’d mentioned it before you opened the door the morning after your brother’s arrival though, still in your very embarrassing pajamas and a toothbrush used and abandoned in your bathroom, fully expecting to see the delivery man on the other end. What you didn’t expect was the tall man who you’d silently been yearning for, looking way too good for someone who'd stepped off a plane.

“Hey.” He greeted you, shooting you a smile that made you blink owlishly. “Good morning.”

You frowned, opening your mouth to greet him but was pushed to the side by your idiot brother. There was a loud and silly exchange between the two men, like you weren’t standing right there with a big question mark on your face, and you watched in silence before Daniel’s gaze on you made Max turn around; like he’d forgotten you were there. In your own home.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you but I invited Daniel.” Max said and you refrained from glaring at him, giving the other man a kind smile instead. “It’s no problem, yeah?”

Killing your brother would have to wait.

“Hi, sorry, of course not.” You thrust your hand out for him to shake, which he did. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

You invited him in, closing the door and shooting your brother a glare when his friend wasn’t looking. He responded with a clueless frown of his own, eyes dropping to what you were wearing.

“What are you wearing?” He asked, yelping when you elbowed him a little too hard in the ribs. “And what do you have on your face?”

He reached a hand out to swipe at your cheek, rubbing off toothpaste and you watched in horror, wanting nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Max lead the way without another word, chatting with the Australian as he showed him to the room he’d presumably be staying in. You watched them round a corner before fleeing to the kitchen, finding Kelly by the stove, looking ten times more put together than you did. The whole place smelled like pancakes, and you almost lost your track of thoughts just by the sheer smell of them. But you were too wound up, a little upset and a whole lot embarrassed.

“What is he doing here?” You asked, careful to keep your voice hushed because you knew how well sound traveled through your house. “Why didn’t Max say anything!”

Kelly looked a little lost, like she wasn’t sure why you were as upset as you were. Which, fair, she didn’t know the absolute turmoil you’d experience whenever you caught sight of Daniel. It was embarrassing, how nervous the man made you. Like a teenaged girl with a crush on her brother's best friend.

“I thought he did.” She looked over her shoulder at you before plating a pancake with practiced ease. “He’s coming with us to the vineyard.”

You leaned against the counter, feeling a little miffed and she must’ve seen the look on your face because she smiled in amusement.

“You’re the one who complained about third wheeling when I booked the tour for us.”

She had a point, but you didn’t say it out loud. Instead, you plucked a cut up strawberry from a plate and turned around to go get ready before the boys came back. The giraffe pajamas had caused you enough embarrassment for a day. It was time for them to retire deep, deep in the back of the closet.

Breakfast was surprisingly pleasant, conversation flowing freely as you dug into your food. You’d forgotten how incredibly well your brother and Daniel fit together, bickering like siblings and taking friendly jabs at each other. Kelly shifted the conversation to the vineyard you’d be touring, talking about the kinds of wines they made and would have in the menu.

It was a beautiful day to spend outside, the Spanish sun shining brightly as you found your little group huddled around the entrance. It was a small group consisting of maybe fifteen people, and you looked around as Kelly and Max walked ahead of you.

“D’ya reckon we’ll get drunk off our asses?” Daniel asked and you gave the man an amused smile.

“I don’t think the samples are that big.” You frowned. “Right?”

“No clue.” He looked ahead as the two of you fell into step, presumably glancing at Max. “Do you like wine?”

You considered lying, but then you figured that it wouldn’t do much harm to just be honest so you shook your head in the negative.

“Absolutely hate it.” You let out a small giggle when Daniel laughed, bumping his arm against yours. “I’m sorry but it smells and tastes so bad!”

“It does the job, though, no?”

You smiled, opening your mouth to reply but Max cut in, yelling at you to hurry up and join them. The tour guide had appeared like magic, out of thin air, and he was standing to the side patiently. You eyed him suspiciously, turning to Kelly to ask her whether it was an English or Spanish tour, but then the man started speaking and your suspicion turned into sheer amusement.

“Why’s he speaking Spanish?” Max murmured quietly enough for only the three of you to hear.

“Because we’re in Spain, Max.” You answered him sarcastically, earning a snort from Daniel and an exasperated eye roll from your brother.

Kelly made a sound in her throat, sounding a lot like a warning to shut up like she did so many times whenever the two of you started bickering in public.

“I think I might’ve booked the wrong guide.” Kelly admitted sheepishly, quietly and you muffled a laugh behind your hand.

It was a funny thought, that she’d managed to choose a tour with a Spanish guide when only one out of the four of you could speak the language. The one being you. You knew it was only a matter of time before your brother would disassociate out of boredom, and you couldn’t wait to witness it.

“He’s telling us to follow him.” You murmured helpfully, referring to the guide and the group moved in tandem as everyone entered the vineyard.

The tour went as well as expected, watching with mild interest and confusion as you walked the fields, descending stairs to basements and getting to sip on samples of expensive wine in the dampness of old cellars.

You tried not to grimace too hard when you brought the glass to your lips, stomach roiling dangerously as you sipped. And it was only when you’d shuddered that you noticed Daniel watching and grinning across from you, catching you in the act.

At some point, you lost sight of Max and Kelly. You suspected that they’d broken out of the group and gone to the restaurant to sample more wines; like their lips weren’t already stained and Kelly wasn’t starting to get into that giggly mood she always got into when she’d had a little much to drink.

You and Daniel stuck together though, eventually wandering off and getting lost in the field of grapes and greens.

It was fun. More fun than you’d had in a while. You took silly pictures, talked and you forgot the time completely.

“I think Max is a little drunk.” You pointed out, holding your phone in your hand with the screen lit up by a text from the man himself.

You held out your phone so Daniel could read the text, watching how he threw his head back to laugh at the jumble of words he found there. Much like the texts he’d sometimes receive after bar crawls and night clubs.

where arew yoh?? This wind is amazing

??? Wind not wind

WINE

are yyu lost? do I nee f to call for help

“He’s trashed.” Daniel agreed.

You sent back a quick assurance that you were fine, pocketing your phone and looking up to find the man already looking at you. It sent a zip of awareness down your back and you looked away bashfully.

The sun had done a lot of good for him, his cheeks were gaining colour and had already started to freckle. It was pretty, and so, so endearing.

“So, are you excited for Monza?” You asked lightly, turning a corner in the hopes of finding the way back to the restaurant but it was another dead end.

The both of you kept walking though, figuring that you’d find your way back eventually. You just hoped it would be before it got dark outside. Max was drunk, but he’d send a search party out and you had no doubt about that.

“Oh yeah, I got it in the bag.” He said, playful, easy. So very attractive. “Max doesn’t stand a chance.”

You laughed, shoving him in the side and he stumbled with a cackle; regaining his footing easily.

"The most skillful driver out there." It wasn't a complete lie, Daniel was one of the good ones. He just needed a team that could keep up with his speed.

“I’m in the category of the more good looking drivers, actually.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he puffs up his chest, lips getting sucked between his teeth in a poor effort to keep the massive smile off his face. “That’s what my mom said anyway.”

You let out a laugh, thinking of how utterly charming he was. It seemed to come naturally to him, and usually it’d intimidate you when that charm is paired with wildly good looks but he somehow managed to put you at ease.

It wasn’t difficult to see why Daniel was so popular and loved in and out of the grid. He made everyone feel like they were old childhood friends and that was a rare quality to possess.

“I’m starting to think that she lied, though.” He continued, like he hadn’t been staring at your smiling face for a beat too long.

You’d been staring too, though. He was too mesmerising.

“Why’s that?” You grinned, knowing that he’d say something that would reel you in completely, judging by the playful little shake of his head.

“Because you didn’t agree.” He laughed at your eyebrows jumping on your forehead. “You laughed too hard.”

“How do you know I wasn’t laughing out of agreement?” You narrowed your eyes a little playfully.

Daniel smiled, delighted that you were playing along and falling right into his little flirty traps. He couldn’t even remember why he was so nervous to talk to you in the first place.

But then you smiled at him, eyes glistening a little too prettily and it was like someone had knocked the breath out of him. So, he looked away and tried not to show how he’d suddenly felt like someone had pulled the rug right from underneath him.

Never mind that you were Max’s sister, knowing that there was some silent bro-code that he had to consider. It was hard when you had all the qualities he usually looked for in women. And not to mention how fucking attracted he was to you.

“So you do agree that I’m good looking.” He nodded, looking a little smug and you shook your head in amusement.

“Who doesn’t?” You asked, before you had any time to rethink the words coming out of your mouth.

He looked at you and you struggled to not break eye contact, even though your face was feeling a few degrees hotter. If he noticed your nerves, he didn’t say anything and you were eternally grateful for that.

“Well,” he sucked his teeth and tried not to look like his ego hadn’t tripled by that one comment. “ditto, sweetheart.”

The way he said it so casually almost made you stop in your tracks, heat creeping up your neck at the way the word sweetheart sounded on his tongue. You briefly wondered how it’d sound in other contexts.

The thought made your heart race and you quickly banished that thought, because what the fuck?

Daniel made a little sound and stopped walking, and you automatically looked up to notice that you’d finally found your way back. You laughed because somehow you’d accidentally circled around and ended up back where you started.

“Ready for some more wine?” Daniel asked jokingly, brushing his hand against yours and you resisted the urge to grab it.

It was easier to nod, words stuck in your throat as you made your way up the stairs to the restaurant.

It was night by the time you came stumbling back through the threshold of your house, Kelly and Max a little tipsy with Daniel not too far behind; judging by the slight flush on his cheeks that definitely hadn’t been caused by the Spanish sun.

Your cheeks were aching from smiling and laughing too much during the evening, heart feeling light as you navigated your way through the house. Your brother grabbed you with an arm around the shoulders, pulling you into his embrace so suddenly that it made you stumble.

“Easy, Max.” You let out a yelp when he smacked a kiss on your head, slapping at him with your hands until he eased his hold on you.

“Goodnight, bunny.” He was slurring a little, but the words sounded fond coming from his mouth.

You got a similar kiss from Kelly - but less sloppy - and you watched them walk away before disappearing out of sight. The sound of a half-snorted laugh made you turn around, finding Daniel hiding his smile behind his hand. Not that it did much hiding, eyes scrunched up in amusement.

“Bunny?” He referred to your brother’s nickname for you and you frowned in embarrassment. He easily recognised the sheer disdain colouring your face and was quick to plead. “No, no. I need to hear that story.”

“No, you really don’t.” You shook your head with a laugh and began walking to the kitchen. “It’s horrifying enough that you saw me in my pajamas this morning.”

Daniel let out a laugh this time, the sound echoing in the kitchen and you couldn’t even hide your smile even if you tried.

“Hey, giraffes are cute, alright?” He plucked a clean glass out a cabinet and accepted the water bottle you’d gotten out of the refrigerator. “I thought you looked good.”

“Oh, you’re a bad driver and a liar.” You hauled yourself up to sit on the counter.

“I’m not ly— you think I’m a bad driver?” He looked offended, voice going up an octave in sheer disbelief. “You really do have your brother’s sense of humour.”

You stretched a leg out to poke his waist and he easily caught your leg when you tried to pull back. A startled yelp left your lips at his quick reflexes, and you tried not to think too hard about the fact that he was trailing the grip up your leg as he inched closer to you.

“Tell me why he calls you bunny.” He said seriously, and you blinked in disbelief because how did he break the tension so fast?

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” You warned him and he nodded, the smile telling you that he was going to do exactly that. “I used to pretend to be a bunny when I was little. I’d demand carrots for dinner and it has just stuck through all these years.”

He threw his head back and cackled so loudly that you were almost worried that Max would come back out and see what the commotion was all about. But it was hard to deny that his laughter was contagious, so loud and carefree that you couldn’t find it in yourself to even pretend to be mad.

“That’s adorable!” He placed both hands on your thighs as he stepped between them, giving you a bright smile. “Did you hop around as well? Oh you did, didn’t you?”

Your embarrassed smile was enough of an answer, and it sent him into fits of laughter again until you groaned and hid your burning face behind your hands. Daniel’s peals of laughter slowly died down and he made a noise of protest, hands coming up to pry yours off your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed, bunny.” He said and you glared.

“Don’t call me that.” You pointed a finger at him. “Only Max is allowed because he rarely does anymore. I don’t want that nickname to stick.”

He held up his hands in surrender, sucking in his lips to stop himself from smiling and you held your own smile back while staring straight at him.

You hadn’t realised how close the two of you had gotten, your thighs on either side of his waist and him leaning oh, so close to you. There was a shift in the air then, where you both seemed to realize the position you found yourselves in. He didn’t make any moves to pull away though, and you weren’t about to be the one to push him away.

You were aware that you were playing a dangerous game, toeing the fine line that Max had drawn in the imaginary sand. There was no telling how your brother would react if he walked into the kitchen right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your hands found life of their own; trailing up the meaty expanse of Daniel’s arms until you reached his broad shoulders.

He wasn’t a massive guy, by any means, but he was defined and had muscle. It wasn’t so hard to see that he’d put in work to look the way he did, it came with his job after all.

“Can I…” His words died on his tongue when you glanced up at him, getting a little lost in your eyes and the way you were practically eating him up with your gaze. It was intoxicating. “Can I kiss you?”

A rush of heat flooded your stomach, and you responded by running your fingers through his hair and bringing his head closer to yours. He went easily, eagerly settling his mouth over yours in a kiss that had you gripping his hair and shoulder.

The need took over so fast, you barely had time to take a breath. Your heart sped up when he took that last step forward, bringing his knees flush to the counter as his mouth opened under yours.

You didn’t know what to focus on, getting lost in the feeling of his hands gripping at your ass cheeks and pulling you into him until your crotch was slotted right against his lower belly; allowing you to rub off on him if you so pleased. And fuck, you really wanted to.

He must’ve sensed it, or even read your thoughts because he helped you thrust forward with the help of his hands on your ass, groaning deeply into your mouth when you started grinding against his torso. Daniel didn’t know if he was imagining the heat against his stomach, but you felt warm and so ready for him to take you apart however he pleased.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded quietly against your lips, and you let out a needy little whimper when he squeezed the meat of your ass in his palms. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

“You.” You managed, leaning forward to kiss him and Daniel allowed it before pulling back slightly.

You almost huffed in frustration, but refrained from doing so. Instead, you grabbed one of his hands and guided them up the apex of your thighs, under your dress and settled his hands right where you needed him most. Daniel’s breath stuttered, the heat of it hitting your face and you blinked at him with pleading eyes.

“Touch me, please, Daniel.” You arched your back a little until his hand moved of its own accord, stroking softly over the dampness of your underwear.

He couldn’t believe how wet you already were, fingers eagerly searching for your hole through the cotton and pressing down until you were whining. It was like music to his ears, and he needed to hear more.

Daniel yanked your panties to the side, cursing loudly at the wetness of your pussy against the pads of his fingers. He touched your swollen clit in circles, never taking his eyes off of your face. You were so animated, pleasure written in large bold letters on your face as your eyelids fluttered; eyes rolling a little when he stroked you particularly nicely, mouth dropping opening in breathy moans.

He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss, the filthiness of it making his cock ache.

“Does that feel good?” He asked when you broke from the kiss, tipping your head backwards so his mouth met your chin instead. He kissed down the column of your throat and sucked against the skin there, mindful to not leave any visible marks.

“Feels perfect.” You slurred, your accent melding into your English and it was so horribly endearing and hot at the same time that Daniel couldn’t resist sinking a finger into you.

The response from you was beautiful, your back arching and hips thrusting into his hand as your hole swallowed his digit without any trouble. Daniel wasn’t sure if you were even aware of the noises you were making, high pitched little uh’s that rose in octaves and he was quick to silence them by kissing you.

He took the opportunity to slide another finger alongside his middle one, meeting a little resistance before you relaxed in his hold. The wetness and warmth of you was so intoxicating that he had to take a deep breath to not blow too soon in his pants.

“Want you—“ your words trailed off as your hands came up to search for the button of his pants.

You were panting, feeling impatient and Daniel watched in silence as the sound of the zipper echoed in the quiet kitchen. There was a brief sense of relief when you dragged down the hem of his underwear, just enough for you to fish him out and get your hands on him.

“Fuck.” You cursed in a whisper, voice laced in enough wonder for Daniel to laugh breathlessly. It was unbelievable how that one word could breathe so much confidence into his body.

Daniel was heavy and hard in your hand, and you took a moment to stroke him to get him fully hard, marvelling at the sheer weight and size of him. Of course, he couldn’t possess the personality and looks, he had to have the full package as well.

“You sure you want this?” He asked and you glanced up at him.

“I want this.” You almost said need, but bit your tongue.

You looked for any sign that maybe he didn’t want this, but you could find none and that made the urgency flare up in your chest as you brought him closer to you. He went easily, hands gripping your thighs to spread them.

“Spread your legs wider.” He instructed you and you did as you were told, ignoring the slight ache in your thighs at being stretched so wide.

Maybe you should’ve felt embarrassed by the position you were in, on display on your kitchen counter with your dress flipped up to reveal your bottom half. But Daniel was roving his eyes over you like he hadn’t seen anything like it before, and that was enough for the last smidge of self-consciousness to dissipate into thin air.

He took himself in his hand and stroked a couple of times, and you were so mesmerised by the sight of it that you almost missed the way he suddenly halted and looked around.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, frowning and he glanced at you.

“Do you have… anything?”

It took a second for you to gather your thoughts and understand what he meant, and dread suddenly sank in your stomach when you realised that no, you really didn’t have protection.

“Shit.” You swore, frowning as you sat up a bit. You looked at him, eyes searching his face as the most stupid idea crept into your mind. “I don’t— I don’t mind?”

His eyebrows jumped, and you couldn’t blame his surprise because it was a reckless move. But you were on the pill and you hadn’t been sexually active for a while. And maybe you shouldn’t, but you trusted Daniel enough.

“I mean, I’m clean and I’m on the pill.” You quickly added when he still hadn’t said anything.

You briefly contemplated sneaking into the sleeping couple’s room and stealing from Kelly, but the sheer horror you felt at the thought of being caught by your brother was enough for you to dismiss that thought. No way.

“I’m clean too.” Daniel said, placing a hand on your cheek and tilting your head up to look at him. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do it.”

“I’m sure.” You said and you meant it.

Daniel smiled with a nod, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss to your lips and it didn’t take long to fall back into that previous urgency you’d felt. You loved on his lower lip as he stepped forward, slipping two fingers into you and stretching you out for good measure before he gripped himself in his hand and guided you forward on the counter.

It felt like the breath was stolen from you as he breached you, keeping his eyes on your face to watch for any change and your eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed inside.

“Fuuuuck me.” He dragged out the words, struggling to find his breath at the sheer warmth enveloping him. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me.”

You blinked them open, mouth falling into an O that looked too inviting for Daniel. He kept his eyes on yours as he bottomed out, waiting for a nod from you before he pulled back and thrusted forward, jolting you and making you moan out.

“Fuck, baby.” He set up a good rhythm, leaning his forehead against yours as he started fucking you. “Sound so pretty for me but you need to keep it down. Wouldn’t want your brother to find us like this, do you?”

He groaned when you tightened around him, giving you a particularly hard thrust in retaliation that made you whimper.

“That got you tight.” He turned his head to nudge his nose against your cheek, and you could feel him smile slowly against your skin. You could only imagine how downright filthy it looked. “Does that turn you on? The fact that someone could walk in and see you like this?”

It was a horrifying thought, but you couldn’t deny the heat spreading through your entire body as you imagined it. And Daniel could feel it affecting you, feeling you squeeze around his cock so deliciously tight that he almost faltered in his rhythm.

Your stomach was starting to tighten up, a telltale sign that you were so close but you still needed that incentive; that last push over the edge of wild oblivion. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep you upright while the other one found a home between your legs, fingers a little too slippery to cause any real friction. You let out a frustrated huff and wiped your hands on your dress before returning to touching yourself.

Daniel had his eyes fastened on you the entire time, feeling dangerously close to climaxing but he refused to be the one to come first, staving off for as long as he could.

It was difficult, it was so hard to keep up pace when you were clenching around him like you were subconsciously trying to keep him deep inside. He glanced up at your face and got exactly a two second warning before your mouth fell open and your legs got tight around him.

“Dan—“ The rest of your moan got choked off against the dampness of his shirt as he placed a hand on the back of your head and pressed your face to his shoulder; a poor attempt at muffling your sounds.

He couldn’t hold it off any longer, burying his face against the side of your head. “Where do you want me?” He should’ve pulled out, and he would if you told him so, but you felt heavenly around him and he momentarily wished that he could bury himself deep in your being and never get up for air.

“In.” Your words were trembling, breathless. “In me, please.”

And who was he to deny that, when you were begging so prettily?

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He gave a thrust, two and let out a guttural moan that he struggled to keep inside. Your breathy little noises as he shot off inside you was the only thing he could hear alongside the rush of blood in his ears. “This cunt.”

Your whole world tilted on its axis and you found yourself on your back, the hard and cool plane of the counter a nice contrast against your sweaty back. A giggle left your lips when you glanced down where Daniel had somehow managed to lose his balance, folding himself on top of you.

Daniel glanced up at the sound of your laughter, a dazed smile creeping onto his face and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing the locks away from his forehead so you could get a look at his eyes.

He looked a lot like he did after a gruelling race. Sweaty and flushed, the apples of his cheeks tinted pink. But there was a bliss to him that definitely didn’t come from racing, and you flushed all over when you realized that it was your doing, you’d done that.

It was a powerful feeling to bring a man like that to his knees.

“Sorry.” He apologised as he placed both hands on either side of you, pushing himself up on unsteady feet. He held his hand out and helped you sit up. The stickiness between your legs was starting to cool, feeling uncomfortable and very much like you were in dire need of a shower. “You alright?”

You glanced up at him and smiled. “Perfect.”

He reciprocated the smile, looking like he was a little unsure of how to proceed. You didn’t blame him, because what did you do after that whole ordeal, in a kitchen, nonetheless. You wrapped one leg around his thigh and urged him forward, hands grabbing at his arms when he was close enough.

“You look beautiful.” He said, voice sincere and quiet, just for your ears. It made you feel a little sheepish, but you thought that you’d never get tired of hearing it if it came from his mouth.

“So do you.” You said, words spoken against his lips before he slotted his mouth over yours in a kiss.

The skin around your mouth was feeling a little chafed from his beard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you let yourself be kissed; lost in the taste and smell of him. It was unbelievable how intoxicating he was.

“I’m gonna need a shower after that.” You said, laughing when he gave you a look and burying your face in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, wrapping yourself around him - much like a koala bear. Daniel must’ve mirrored your delirious thoughts, because he spoke up a moment later.

“Alright, you little koala bear.” He laughed, sounding five shades of amused as he wrapped his arms around you.

You slapped at his back, “Do not make that a nickname.”

The counter disappeared beneath you as he lifted you, the feeling of being weightless so sudden and jarring that you let out a yelp; arms clutching at him to not fall. He had no intention of dropping you though, hauling you up in his arms until he was holding you steadily.

“What are you doing?” You whispered, half-hushed and it was kind of ridiculous that you were being mindful of your voice after all the noise you’d surely created a few minutes prior.

The possibility of Max walking in felt a lot more dangerous now that you weren’t blind with lust, and you still didn’t know how Daniel felt about screwing his friend’s sister behind his back. It was a lot of feelings to unpack, but you put it in an imaginary box and locked it away in your mind for another day.

“You said you needed a shower.” His smile was blinding as always when you pulled back to look at him. “I’m here to assist.”

“That’s what they’re calling it nowadays? Assisting?” You joked and Daniel raised his brows in amusement as he began navigating the way to the bathroom.

It was an old house, depriving you of an en suite that you desperately wished you had now. You’d never felt a need for it, seeing as you were living alone, but it would’ve lowered the chances of the other two occupants hearing the shower running so late.

Your concerns went up in smoke when Daniel finally found the bathroom, kicking the door shut gently behind him. It was a failed attempt, the door screeching like something out of a scary movie and it made you muffle your laugh behind your hand.

“Gonna need to oil that, love.” He said, putting you down on your feet.

That’s what you’d told yourself a hundred times since moving in, but it had a weird charm to it so you never did. That, and you just never got around to fixing the door.

There was a bizarre thought that was so fleeting that you dismissed it almost immediately, imagining Daniel dropping by in Spain and coming to visit you between GP's. Him in your kitchen with his guard down, doing maintenance work on your house that so desperately needed it. It warmed your heart to the core, thinking of him squeezing you into his busy schedule but then you thought of Max and your thoughts halted.

Max. He'd done nothing throughout your childhood but protect you, being there for you whenever you needed it and you'd been leaning on each other into adulthood. He was the closest person to you in your life, and the thought of going behind his back made something sour bloom in your mouth.

"Hey."

You looked up at the hushed word, blinking in slight confusion when you saw the concern marring Daniel's face. He must've seen you zone out completely and you realized that you'd been deep in your thoughts for a while because the shower was running already.

Daniel reached a hand out to touch your shoulder, just a quick stroke of his fingers against your skin and you felt your body light up at the slightest touch from him.

"Lost you there for a minute." He said, tilting his head to the side to catch your eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, considered lying, but again, what good would it do?

"Max." You said, the name heavy on your tongue.

His face morphed into something unreadable and he regarded you silently. Like he was trying to reach into your brain and dissect your thoughts.

"Look," He sat down on the edge of the bathtub and peered up at you with his beautifully brown eyes. "I want to explore this with you, see where it takes us. Do you?"

You nodded before he'd finished his sentence, relief seeping into your tense body because he understood your sudden fear, he knew what you'd meant.

"Alright." He gave you a smile, radiant and reassuring. "We don't have to involve Max until we're absolutely sure where we stand."

He made it sound so easy, and maybe it was. Maybe you could do this without involving the outside world, exist in your own little bubble and see where it takes you without the added pressure from the public or either families.

Daniel helped you out of your dress, pressing small and fleeting kisses to your shoulder and arms. It was like he was trying to encourage you to take the plunge.

And in some way you did, as you stepped under the spray of the shower with him.

[ltbarnes]

the love we left — carlos sainz jr

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader [8.8k] summary: you weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being carlos sainz of all people. the very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, very angsty, mentions of alcohol abuse and drug use, heartbreak, childhood friends, brother's best friend, public sex a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts, unfinished for a whole month so I went back and thought that it deserved a second chance. and voilà, here you have it! my very first carlos fic!! i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, because I love how this turned out. happy reading my lovelies!! x

The music was pounding, borderline rupturing your eardrum with good music that had you bobbing your head gently to the intimate beat. Everywhere you looked were bodies, moving in unison and hands roaming sweaty skin.

The bartender poured drinks like his life depended on it, and you watched him pour you another shot of tequila without a verbal request from you, shooting you a friendly grin and side stepping to help the next customer. You downed your shot, pulling a small face at the rancid taste as you made your way to the dance floor.

You didn’t know when you’d become this type of person. The person who’d spend their weekends in clubs, dancing the nights away until they got blisters on their feet and most likely woke up with their head in a toilet bowl. It had started out as something you and your girlfriends did, sneaking into clubs when you’d just turned legal, but then you’d started going alone because you found out that sitting in your apartment alone with your thoughts was way too much for you to handle.

You weren’t strong enough to deal with your emotions, preferring to find people and alcohol to distract you. It had worked out quite well for you and the multiple shots you’d taken over the span of two hours were starting to settle in your bones, buzzing right beneath your skin and giving you enough courage to seek out the dance floor.

Your body moved like it was an entity of its own, face tilted up to the ceiling and eyes closed as you felt the music. It rattled your bones and settled in your hips, the bottom of your heels sticking to the floor with every step you took.

I’ve never seen someone look so at home on a dance floor, he’d once said. The words came sneaking into your mind, unbidden. You could still remember the party, how your brother had bought the whole gang shots and you’d taken to the floor with laughter and happiness in your bellies. The DJ hadn’t been very happy when your brother and the man of the hour stepped up to the booth and completely took over with their non-existent experience of manning a DJ booth, but he’d relented when your brother had drunkenly explained that this man right here? He’s gonna be racing cars professionally, cabrón.

You were so far gone in your head, not even flinching at the pair of hands sliding over your waist and pulling you into a body. The person smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne, and it made something roll in your stomach at the mix of it in your nostrils but you couldn’t pull away. He was yet another distraction from your messed up life, and you welcomed it in all forms.

If you let yourself take a step back and think of exactly why you allowed a complete stranger to touch you the way they were, you’d come to the conclusion that the reason was because the feeling of hands on your hips reminded you of him. That one damned night that changed you, that made you into this.

He’d cornered you against the wall, claimed your lips in a bruising kiss that left you panting and his hands. Fuck. His hands had gripped your hips so tight that you’d had bruises for a whole week after that encounter.

You’d thought that finally, finally the both of you would be together after years of pining; Spending your awkward teenage years wishing that your brother’s best friend would look at you as a girl he could imagine kissing, and not as his best friend’s sister and a family friend. But then he’d acted like nothing happened, leaving you in the dust with little to no explanation as he went to kickstart his career.

Bile rose in your throat as your brain entered dangerous territory, and you blinked your eyes open against the lights. It was blurry, and it took a few moments for you to realise that there were tears welling up in your eyes. You’d stopped crying long ago, but sometimes the tears managed to sneak up on you when you were vulnerable and drunk.

The hands on your body were suddenly too much, and just as you were about to run, someone grabbed you and yanked a little harder than you had been prepared for. You stumbled, a wordless shout leaving your lips when you were pulled to the side of the dance floor, legs struggling to keep up. It took a second for you to realise that someone had grabbed you and was in the process of dragging you off the dance floor, away from the sweaty and dancing bodies, away from the man who you’d danced with. Your eyes were scanning your surroundings, feeling too drunk to think of a good plan to escape so you settled for the only thing that would hopefully get someone’s attention.

Before you could open your mouth and scream, a hand settled right on your lips and muffled the sound, your eyes flickering up to the man in front of you in the hopes that you could shoot him the most pleading look through your eyes.

You found yourself looking into round and dark eyes, so eerily familiar that it made your stomach violently turn and you took a stumbling step back like shock itself had shoved you, turning around to promptly retch into a nearby trash can. You heaved and clutched at the edge of the bin with your hands, moaning miserably until it finally stopped.

“Come on, let’s get you outside.” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, somehow overpowering the pulsing music.

His hands grabbed at you, helping you steady yourself and you didn’t bother to spare him another glance as you weakly shoved his hands away. He didn’t fight you, nor say anything when you walked straight out of the club, legs feeling incredibly weak and hands shaking; like you were two seconds away from breaking down.

And you were. What the fuck was he doing here? Why would he come back?

The chilly air was welcomed when you pushed the back door open, stumbling out into the alley and breathing in, in an effort to sober up. You ignored your trembling hands as you dug around in your purse for gum, anything to get rid of the sour taste in your mouth but you doubted it would do much to settle the nausea roiling in your stomach.

You heard a scuffle behind you, causing you to freeze because you’d been hoping that it was all just your drunken mind playing tricks on you; Because it happened sometimes. It had happened in your dreams, and once when you’d smoked a dodgy rolled up joint and hallucinated him being there. But no, he was standing there when you turned around, eyebrows pulled together in that annoying frown he always wore whenever he disapproved of something. His face was passive though, eyes not giving away anything and it was so infuriating.

He’d always played the older brother, acting like he had some kind of right to decide over you just because he was your brother’s friend. But his feelings had been anything but fraternal, he’d made that very clear when he decided to fuck you and leave.

You swallowed, feeling nauseous as you stood staring at him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, cursing yourself quietly when your voice shook. But you sounded stern, even in your drunken state and something about your tone made the man grit his teeth.

“I was worried—“

No. You didn’t need to hear the same old spiel again. He didn’t get to be worried about you, not anymore.

“What are you doing here, Carlos?” You cut him off, making him cringe at the way you said his name, sharply and angry - so differently from how you used to say it.

“Your family is worried about you.” He replied slowly.

The way he talked reminded you of someone who spoke carefully as to not scare away a skittish animal. It was very bizarre, the feeling so unreal that you had a hard time believing that your fucked up mind hadn’t decided to conjure him up on a random Sunday night. A few moments passed as you stared, and stared. He was truly there in the flesh.

You were aware that your mother had been worried, calling you every day to check up on you and you gave her the same old answer because what else was there to say?

You just weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being Carlos fucking Sainz of all people. The very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore.

“I wanted to check up on you, see how you are doing.” He broke the drawn out silence, stuffing both of his hands into the pockets of his jacket like he didn’t know what else to do with them.

You remembered the odd habit he used to have, where he’d wring his hands whenever he felt out of place. It was such a minuscule detail that barely anyone took notice of, but you did. You always did.

Your eyes dropped to follow the movement, noting the casual jeans and the red hoodie under his black jacket. You quickly looked away, refusing to think about how good he looked.

“Well, now you have. So you can go.” You shot him a smile with no real joy behind it, turning around and walking down the alleyway in the direction of your apartment.

You knew that he wouldn’t leave you alone, and a big part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t deny that one percent that wanted, needed him to stay.

The sounds of his footsteps let you know that he wasn’t far behind and you jumped like he’d burned you when you felt his fingertips touch your arm. Just a quick touch that lit your body on fire. Your eyes found his and you took a big step back, feeling your chest go tight at the slight downwards tilt of his lips, like he hadn’t expected you to react negatively.

“Nena, please. Let me walk you home, at least.” He said and your throat tightened up at the familiar pet name he’d called you since you were children and so incredibly naive.

“Don’t call me that.” You sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at your nose. “You don’t get to show up here after two years and play the hero. I don’t need one, and I certainly don’t need you.”

“Lo sé.” He said, but he really didn’t know, did he?

You didn’t say a word, taking two steps before glaring down at your shoes. They had been a pain the whole night and now that the alcohol wasn’t doing its job of numbing the pain, your feet were starting to hurt from being pinched for the past few hours. You balanced yourself with a hand on the wall, slipping your heels off with a quiet grumble and shoving the offending footwear into the man’s chest. Carlos grunted at the unexpected force, hands coming up to catch the heels before they dropped and raising both eyebrows at you.

You weren’t looking at his face, but you could tell that he was baffled by your actions and it made you feel just a tad bit smug. If he was going to show up and insist on pestering you, he might as well make himself useful.

The concrete was uncomfortable to walk barefoot on, but it felt freeing and you took comfort in that feeling. Anything to not think about exactly who was walking a few steps behind you, feeling his eyes on you like hot coal on your skin.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked, tone cautious like he didn’t want to say the wrong things or set you off.

“No, why?” You turned your head to look over your shoulder and found him walking way closer to you than you thought. “Is the neighbourhood not up to your standards?”

You knew you were being petty now, playing unfair and it clearly annoyed Carlos as he looked away to avoid your cold gaze. It wasn’t his fault that he’d gone and got himself an even more lavish lifestyle where he raced cars for a living and got millions out of it. You’d always been proud of him, one of his biggest supporters before everything transpired and although you didn’t want to admit it out loud, you’d always keep tabs on him.

There weren’t enough fingers on your hands to count the amount of times you’d struggled to not pick up your phone and text him after he’d won a race, or if he did badly. The urge to comfort him and to be happy for him was still there, even years later.

“I live down the road.” You said, desperate to break the tension. “You can go.”

Carlos fell into step beside you, not sparing you a glance as he nodded.

“I know.” He said, but made no effort to leave you alone.

The two of you walked in relative silence, interjecting with small talk every now and then to fill the unbearable quiet that had blanketed over you. It took a few minutes for Carlos to relax, shoulders dropping like the tension was slowly seeping out of his body when he realised that you were beyond your anger now, speaking softly rather than the tone you’d carried a few minutes earlier. He didn’t like how you sounded though, mellow and short, like you’d given up on caring. It made something ugly swirl in his stomach to the point where he started to feel nauseous.

He was starting to spiral in his thoughts, trapped inside his head and just as he opened his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“How’s Ferrari treating you?” You asked and his head snapped to you. You weren’t looking at him, staring straight ahead with your mouth in a thin line. “You’ve been doing well lately.”

Carlos didn’t know if you were trying to act nonchalant and if you were, you were doing a piss poor job because he could see how you struggled to maintain a neutral expression on your face. He didn’t want to point it out though because his mind had finally caught up to your question, teetering along the edge of she’s keeping tabs on me.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and he hurriedly cleared his throat. “It’s been good, felt like a dream when I signed the contract.”

You could still remember when he started karting, how he’d plead with his parents to buy him merchandise with the Ferrari logo poorly pressed onto the material. It had always been a dream of his, and something about him achieving it made you smile.

“I bet it was.” You said softly, glancing at Carlos to find him staring at you; eyes wide and searching, like he was taking in your smile. You hurried to look away, suddenly uncomfortable with the rush of old emotions storming back and taking residence in your entire being.

“How have you been?” He asked, genuine and curious.

You considered ignoring his question, not knowing how to answer him without making yourself out to be the most pathetic person to grace the earth. How could you tell him how you’d been in a downwards spiral for the past years? Could you even admit to the things you’d done, how you’d drank yourself to oblivion in hopes to numb yourself and worked dead end jobs to keep yourself afloat?

“I’ve been fine.” Your tone was flat, letting him know that you weren’t in the mood to delve deeper and thankfully he respected your wishes, keeping silent. “Well, here we are.”

You nodded up at the apartment complex you’d stopped in front of, suddenly feeling awkward as you found yourselves staring at each other with no idea how to proceed.

Carlos fidgeted as you stared at him, looking as anxious as you felt and it made you a little sad because you’d been better than this, once upon a time. You’d never known awkward silences or odd looks, but you’d somehow managed to go from close to whatever the fuck this was. Strangers. Ex-lovers. But could you even dub him as an ex-lover when you’d only slept with him once?

You took in the sharpness of his jaw, the stubble growing on it fitting him as well as you remembered but there was a certain edge to him that hadn’t existed last time you saw him. He looked fully grown up, like an adult who didn’t have time for children’s games and torrid love affairs.

Homesickness bloomed in your chest the further your mind delved into the past, suddenly wishing that things were different. Wishing that you’d swallowed your pride and picked up your phone.

Would he have answered? Did he change his number?

You swallowed excessive saliva in your mouth, trying not to grimace when it felt like swallowing gravel as your eyes traveled down his arm that he’d successfully managed to free from his pocket, hanging by his side. Your eyes latched onto the space between his thumb and pointer finger, where the tan skin was white and raised in a small bump. A healed scar that brought such a rush of memories that the words tumbled out of your mouth before you overthought them.

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked and Carlos couldn’t manage to hold his surprise in, eyebrows shooting up and jaw going a little slack. “Just… for a while.”

It probably sounded wrong, like you were inviting him with ulterior motives and you weren’t. Really. Just the thought of him touching you made bile rise in your throat and you realised that you weren’t ready. For any of this. But then again, would you ever be ready?

Whatever inner monologue you were running through in your head was halted when Carlos exhaled, glancing at the apartment building before nodding twice.

“Me encantaría.” He said, voice gentle.

You hurried to get your keys out of your purse, hands shaking a little and you didn’t know whether it was from your nerves being shot or the unhealthy amount of alcohol you’d consumed not even an hour ago. The door gave way when you turned the key and pushed it forcefully with your shoulder, stepping inside and flicking the light on.

It wasn’t much. A one bedroom apartment in a safe enough neighbourhood. Your brother had scowled and made his displeasure known when he’d helped you move in, even offering to find you a better place to rent out but you refused. Mostly because this was further away from your family and because it was yours. It had its defects and flaws, but you loved it from the moment you stepped foot inside.

Your brother and Carlos were like one person in two bodies, so you almost expected him to get his two cents in when he stepped in behind you and closed the door; Eyes roaming around and taking in the place. His face gave nothing away, as always, but then his brown eyes landed on you and his lips twitched.

“I like it.” He said, like you’d asked.

You gave a nod, secretly pleased but then you scolded yourself because why the fuck did you even care what he thought? Mierda.

“Glad to know you approve.” You muttered, annoyance pricking your heart and you didn’t know why. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You left him to his own devices, standing in the middle of the living area looking a little lost while you sought out the comfort of your bedroom. The door closed with a click and you hurriedly changed your clothes to something more comfortable, snatching your makeup wipes where they’d fallen on the floor to wipe at your face. Your makeup was smudged, embarrassingly so but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when your heart was racing a mile a minute, thinking of the man on the other side of the door.

There was a moment of panic where you felt that shit, you shouldn’t have invited him in because this apartment was the only place he hadn’t touched, soiled with his fake promises and lies.

The memories of you in his bed came back with full force, thinking of how you’d woken up in the middle of the night with a smile on your face that got wiped as soon as you touched the cold side of his bed. He’d been nowhere to be found, and you’d contemplated staying and hoping that he’d come back in the morning but then you’d found his contract on the kitchen counter and the packed suitcases you’d somehow skimmed over when you were wrapped up in him.

It had felt like a gut punch and it still did as you stared at yourself in the mirror, swallowing against the nausea swirling up from your stomach to your throat. Your eyes welled with tears, and you gave yourself a moment to silently cry before you wiped angrily at your eyes, reaching for your toothbrush.

You thought back on your younger self, how she’d been so happy to have finally caught the eyes of her brother’s best friend. After years of pining and hoping that he’d see her as something more than his sister. How he’d once wiped a thumb under her eye when she’d first started experiencing with makeup in her teenage years, and he’d softly said that you don’t need so much of it. You’re beautiful, nena.

You deserved better, but you didn’t know what better was. Was it in the arms of a man or the bottom of a shot glass? It was a terrifying revelation, to realise how fucked up your life had become and it was all your fault.

Closure. That was what you needed, wasn’t it? But you didn’t want to move on from him, because despite it all, you still loved him.

Carlos had his back to you when you came out of your room, staring hard at the frames on the wall and you briefly wondered if he noticed how you’d deliberately left out the pictures with him.

“I remember this day.” He said quietly without looking at you. His finger pointed at a framed picture of you and your best friend, at an animal sanctuary with your hands stretched out, feeding a giraffe. “You were so happy to finally see giraffes, no one could pull you away from them.”

You wanted to smile at the memory, but it was hard when emotion was still clogging up your throat. You embraced yourself and sat down on your sofa, making a small hum of acknowledgement instead. Carlos turned around at that, sweeping his eyes across the small area before settling on you.

“Things change.” You said, because they really did.

“Sí.” He sighed, taking a seat in the ottoman. The seat furthest away from you, you noted. “I have that picture in my driver’s room. Not that one, but a similar one where you’re by yourself.”

You knew what picture he was referring to and it made you frown. Why would he confess to that?

“Why?” You asked, because that was the question, wasn’t it? Why, why, why?

Carlos inhaled through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Reminds me of how simple life used to be.” He said, like it answered the million questions in your head.

You didn’t ask him to elaborate, because you didn’t want to hear it. It must’ve been difficult to lead such a fast paced life, hopping from one country to the other and spending hours on driving cars. You’d imagine that it got a little too much at some point, rendering you homesick and yearning for a simpler life. But it didn’t work like that. Life rarely went the way you wanted it to.

“Why are you really here, Carlos?” You asked, the question so sudden that it cut through the false sense of security the both of you had managed to build.

He stared at you, eyes unmoving and it was so unnerving that you looked down in your lap, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

“I miss you.” He said, and you barely managed to hold in the scoff. Barely. “I miss us.”

“There was no us.” You interjected, spitting the word out like it was venom.

It might as well have been because Carlos hands curled into fists where they stayed in his lap, something he always did to reel his frustration in. Somehow, that angered you. You weren’t the one who walked out. You weren’t the one who left him behind.

“I kno—“

“No, you don’t!” You hissed, fury finally unfurling in your chest. “El problema es usted no sabe mi dolor o mi vacío. You just walk back into my life like I’m supposed to welcome you with open arms.”

Your breathing was picking up, chest heaving with the lack of air you were heaving in and it did nothing to stop the pricks of tears in your eyes as you raised your head to glare at him. Carlos looked taken aback, hands slack from the previous fists and his eyes looked… Sad. Regretful. It was so pitiful that you couldn’t help but laugh wetly and humourlessly, bringing a sleeved hand to wipe at your nose.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admitted after a painful silence.

You looked away, sniffling as tears started falling traitorously, tracking your cheeks and you hated yourself for it. The last thing you wanted to do in front of Carlos was cry, but it seemed like your heart disagreed.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” You said, quietly. “You’ve already had me and it wasn’t enough.”

“It was enough.” His voice was more forceful than you expected, making your stomach drop. “It is enough. The fault was never with you, it was me.”

“Cállate.” You shook your head. “Don’t do the it’s not you, it’s me bullshit.”

Carlos sucked his teeth in exasperation.

“You know I’ve always loved you, nena.” He said and it made you look up.

Love? For a moment, your heart stopped beating in your chest as hope flared in every crevice of your body. But you reeled it in just as quick, because if he called fucking and dumping love, then you were better off. You might’ve been damaged but you still recognised that you deserved better.

“I don’t know.” You set your jaw. “You have a funny way of showing it, if you do.”

He sat up in the ottoman, ignoring the groan of protest it gave under his weight. The both of you stared at each other for a second and it felt like the longest hour of your life.

“That night…” He began, trailing off like he wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. “Nena, I didn’t do anything that I regretted, and I still don’t. The only thing I regret is leaving you the way I did because you deserve so much better.”

Something wet touched your throat and you hurried to wipe at it, realising that tears were still rolling down your face. It irked you.

Carlos sighed heavily, like the conversation was too much to bear and you agreed with that sentiment, for once.

“Then why did you? Leave?” Your voice was quiet, broken and you hated the sound of it.

Carlos pulled a small face like it pained him to hear you so broken down, and it sent a small zip of satisfaction through you. You wanted him to hurt like you’d hurt.

“Because I was scared.” He confessed. “I was scared about everything. Your brother, this new life that I got pushed into. It was too much and I was panicking that night. I just wanted to feel normal again.”

“So… you slept with me and left?” You laughed bitterly.

Carlos cut you a stern look that still, to this day, shut you right up. He’d always had the face for it, the round and wide dark eyes and the bushy eyebrows. He could look intimidating when he wanted to, not that he ever scared you but you knew when to shut up.

“No. I sought you out because you were the only person who feels safe, who feels like home.”

He said feels. Not felt. So did that mean you still felt like home to him? You weren’t sure what to think or believe, feeling nauseous and lost all of a sudden.

“I realise that I went about it completely wrong.” He continued when you still hadn’t spoken. “I have a lot of regrets in my life, nena. But leaving you in my bed is the biggest of them all.”

The confession felt heavy, riddled with underlying emotions and confessions that you weren’t really ready to confront nor unpack. It was exhausting, all this new information invading your every sense and Carlos must’ve sensed how overwhelmed you’d suddenly become, because he palmed the tops of his thighs and sucked his teeth.

“Do you wanna get out for a bit?” He asked and you raised your eyebrows in slight bewilderment.

“It’s two in the morning.” You replied slowly and that prompted a smile from Carlos.

The sight of it was so unexpected and beautiful that it felt like a sucker punch, making you look away before you started staring.

“That never stopped you before.”

Before. Before when you’d sneak out of the house with your girlfriends to meet up with other friends and go to the most obscure parties. And Carlos would always be the one to catch you in the act, whenever he stayed over the house. He’d never berate or rat you out, just smirk and tell you to stay safe. To call if you ever needed him.

“Fine.” You relented, standing up and making your way over to the hallway. “Do you have a car?”

“Yeah, I parked it not too far from here.” He regarded you silently when you reached for your shoes, slipping them on. “Are you going to go out like that?”

It didn’t sound judgemental, only curious and that’s why you shot him an amused stare instead of picking up a fight out of annoyance.

“Yes.” You said, short and sweet.

He gave you a long stare before nodding, and that was that.

Fifteen minutes later and you were sitting in the passenger seat of a Ferrari, speeding down the deserted highway. There was no clear destination in either of your minds, but you cracked open the window and let the wind whip your hair, closing your eyes for a moment.

The radio was playing quietly in the background, almost drowned out by the roar of the engine, but it was comforting all the same.

Carlos hadn’t said a word since he started the car, only hitting you with a do you want seat warmers on? to which you’d shook your head. But he was good company, silent and comforting, just like he used to be.

“I love this song.” You said softly when the voices on the radio drifted off, the familiar tunes of Lovers Rock filling the relative silence.

Carlos didn’t say anything, just reached a hand out to turn the sound up a few bars, shooting you a glance that you felt in your core. It was amazing how he still made you feel like that, like someone had reached down your throat and fisted your heart violently. It was a sickening feeling, one that was so addicting and dangerous but you still yearned for it.

You were still mad at him, but you could also see a clearer picture now that he’d given you his side of the story and apologised. It wasn’t that you forgave him - that would take time - but you weren’t holding a grudge as strong like before.

It was hard though, to not acknowledge how he still made you feel like the wide eyed teenage girl who’d once saw the stars and moon in his dark eyes, who’d feel sick with love and admiration for him.

Because love can burn like a cigarette,

and leave you alone with nothing.

There was an irony to the lyrics, one that seemed to fit your current life like a glove. Carlos cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, breaking the silence.

Your stomach still felt unsettled from the drinks you’d had and from him showing up and upending your life, so you shook your head in the negative and turned your head to look at him.

“No, thank you.” You whispered.

Carlos didn’t take his eyes off the road and you took the chance to look at him, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and his strong nose. His hair was longer than last time you saw him, floppy and soft without any product in it and it should’ve annoyed you how beautiful he looked. Like something straight out of a romance movie.

There were a slight shadow under his eyes though, looking a lot like a person who carried the weight of the world on their shoulders and you fisted your hands in your lap to avoid reaching out to swipe a thumb over the bags of his eyes. You’d been so swept up in your anger that you’d failed to realise that Carlos was probably hurting just as much, he just couldn’t show it or self-destruct.

“Estás mirando, nena.” His voice, paired with the pull of his mouth made you look away.

Warmth spread all over your body when you realised that you’d been caught staring, for far too long to play it off.

“Where are we going?” You asked, in desperate need to change the subject and Carlos noticed it, because his nose flared as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth; Like he was trying to hold his smile off.

“La playa.” He said.

The air had chilled considerably when you stepped out of the car, the wind whipping your bare legs and you pulled your sweater over your hands to find some comforting warmth as you gazed out over the beach.

It was dark, completely deserted even by the boardwalk and it was perfect for you, not in the mood to run into anyone who might know the man who was currently walking a few steps behind you.

The sand found its way into your shoes but you paid it little to no mind as you hurried your steps to the shoreline, far enough that the water wouldn't reach you, but close enough to hear the ominuous sounds of crashing waves.

"It's cold." Carlos said and you turned around, taking in the scrunch of his nose as he glanced around.

"Es perfecto." You said, waiting until Carlos looked over at you to give him a tentative smile. There was something in his face that changed at the sight of your open and vulnerable expression, but you didn't stop to think too hard on it.

Instead, you reached for your oversized sweater and pulled it clean off your head, ignoring Carlos' sounds of mortified and confused protest. His voice climbed in octaves when you kicked your shorts off, toeing your shoes away before you began walking backwards toward the ocean.

"Ay, what are you doing?" He asked, taking a step forward like he wanted to stop you. "You're gonna get sick!"

You ignored him, only breaking eye contact when the current carried up the shore, frothy water licking your calves and it was so cold that you felt it in your entire being. A sharp gasp left your lips, but you were determined to get a dip in just to clear your head.

It had been a long night, and getting sick was the last thing on your mind as water enveloped you.

Carlos watched silently, though his heart was pounding against his ribcage whenever he lost sight of you for a mere second. You'd always emerge from the water, smiling like you were in your own world and that's probably what stopped him from stalking right over and yank you out of the bed of water.

You looked so free, the complete opposite of how you'd looked the entire night and he selfishly didn't want that look on your face to diminish. Granted, you weren't smiling out of joy nor were you directing it at him, but the burden on your shoulders looked a little lighter when you finally started walking out of the water.

He tried hard not to stare at your body, the skimpy lingerie doing absolutely nothing to hide the most private parts of you. Carlos didn't know if he was just imagining things, but you'd truly grown into yourself since he last saw you.

You were shivering when you reached him, arms embracing your upper body like they were going to provide the warmth you needed to not send yourself into shock. He shrugged his jacket off without thinking when you hurriedly redressed in your sweater, water still dripping down your hair and body.

Carlos was ever the worrier, sitting you down on the sand and draping his jacket around your shoulder. You didn't protest, happily accepting it with a stuttered thank you that had his chest squeezing.

"You've always been good at surprising me." Carlos said when a few minutes had passed. He smiled when you gazed at him, trying not to react when you shifted and accidentally bumped your thigh against his.

You pulled away slightly, looking out into the darkness.

"How long are you staying?" You asked, quietly and slowly like you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

You knew realistically that he couldn't stay, he wouldn't. Carlos had a whole other life to live and a job to tend to, but you'd foolishly believed that maybe he'd stick around.

Carlos had a crease between his eyebrows that told you otherwise though, and you knew what was coming out of his mouth before he even said the words.

"Two days." He replied quietly, the sound almost getting swallowed up by the rushing waves in the distance. "I'm supposed to be in Italy by now but I wanted to see you."

You smiled despite yourself, a small graze of the lips that had Carlos inhale through his nose.

"I'm glad you came." You confessed out loud, the very same words you'd been scared to utter for the past hour.

Now they were out in the open, and Carlos was staring at the side of your head like he'd maybe heard wrong.

"Me too." He said softly, watching you shift as a breeze blew by.

Your thigh grazed his and this time, you didn't move away, letting the warmth of your flesh seep through his jeans.

"I'm sorry for everything." Carlos pulled a leg up to rest his cheek on the knee, head turned towards you. "I wish I could take it all back."

"I know." You said quietly.

You looked at each other in silence and you took in the slope of his nose and the tanned skin. The apples of his cheeks were a little sunburnt, lips dry but oh so full and inviting. You stared at them, thinking back to how they'd tasted that one fateful night.

Carlos cheeks went a little pink at your scrutiny and you quickly looked away, feeling yourself flush warmth all over at being caught staring so obviously.

"Come with me." He said and you blinked, confusion marring your face when you turned back to look at him. "To Italy. Just to get away for a bit. You can meet my friends and watch me race."

You hesitated, feeling lost all of a sudden because you weren't sure if you were ready for it yet. But a small part of you wanted to go with him, to let go of this life of destruction you'd managed to envelop yourself in.

Carlos hesitantly touched your hand that you had in your lap, fingertips against the palm of your hand and that one small touch was so electrifying that you filled your belly with air, holding your breath until it hurt your chest before exhaling.

"Charles has a girlfriend who I think you'd get along with well. She’s very much like you." He continued, sounding an awful lot like a salesman and it made you smile. “You’d love her, I think.”

You didn't know who Charles was, but the name rang a bell and you took a shot in the dark that it was his teammate.

"I probably would." You replied slowly and Carlos pinched eyebrows relaxed a tad bit when you finally broke your silence, like your silence had built some anxiety. "Can I think on it? I just —"

"Yes." He interrupted you, like he completely understood. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'll be around for two more days so you can take your time."

You thought about your brother, wondering if he knew what had spiralled that night before Carlos left to start his career. Did he have a hunch or did Carlos tell him? All you really knew was that your brother had flown out plenty of times to attend races, so you knew that they were still in contact, and by the looks of it, good friends. He’d invited you along the first few times, only stopping when your polite no’s had turned into snapping.

“What are you thinking about?” Carlos voice brought you out of your thoughts and you realised he’d been looking at your face the entire time, trying to read your thoughts when your eyebrows furrowed.

“Does he know?” You asked and Carlos looked confused for exactly two seconds before his eyebrows smoothed out, a humourless smile twitching his lip as he gazed out at the ocean in front of you.

He pulled up both legs, resting his forearms on his knees and clutching his hands together.

“Yes.” He said and your stomach dropped a little. “He came to a race in Miami a year ago and I felt… guilty. He was talking about how you should come to a race sometime and how concerned he was for you.”

Your eyebrows jumped. Your brother knew. How much did he know? He hadn’t even brought it up with you, not once.

“I told him.” He let out a laugh with no real joy behind it. “He punched me, called me a motherfucker and left.”

Your mouth gaped open as you took in the new information, eyebrows raised so high that you were scared they’d get stuck in your hairline but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax.

You had never really been that close to your brother, close enough to spend some time in the same circle of friends whenever it was called for but you weren’t sit down and talk about your feelings close. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he hadn’t reached out to you and spoke to you about how you’d fucked his best friend, but he hadn’t treated you any different the past year. He still called and texted to check on you, expressing his worry whenever you gave him the old I’m fine reply. Now you knew why he’d been so gentle with you.

“I deserved it.” Carlos said after a stretch of silence, looking at you.

It made you sad for him then, and a little ashamed of yourself that you’d never stopped to consider how Carlos had felt in all of this. You’d always thought that he ran because he couldn’t deal with turning you down gently, but looking at him now? He was clearly struggling as well.

“You didn’t.” You said and Carlos pulled a face like he didn’t believe you. “I’m just a little horrified that my brother knows I slept with his best friend.”

The both of you smiled at each other.

“It’s not his business, anyway.” Carlos said, leaning his weight to one side so he could bump his shoulder against yours. “Just you and me, ¿verdad?”

“Sí.” You smiled like the words he was saying didn’t turn your stomach inside out.

Carlos looked straight ahead, and you scooted closer to him with a shiver, still cold and wet. He didn’t even hesitate to put his arm around you when your sides pressed together, leaning your head against his shoulder and basking in his warmth when a breeze blew by.

Your stomach was doing somersaults, twisting with nerves and a sense of giddiness and you really hoped that he couldn’t hear the harsh pound of your heart against your rib cage when he turned his head to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Te amo, nena.” He whispered, faint and intimate but it still felt like he’d reached into your bones and rattled them with a violent shake.

Hearing the quiet love confession come from his mouth stunned you, hope blooming in your chest as you picked your head up to take a look at his face. He was close, so close, and the inviting pout of his lips made it all the more difficult to resist pressing your lips against them.

Carlos inhaled sharply through his nose when you grazed your lips against his, a whisper of a touch that electrified you to the core. The arm around you tightened, pressing you closer as your noses brushed.

“Kiss me.” You whispered and Carlos did exactly that.

The press of his lips made you warm all over, hands coming up to clutch his hoodie when he pried your lips open; the touch of tongues making you push harder. It felt a lot like coming home, like universe had aligned itself, and you basked in the feeling of it all.

“Nena.” Carlos murmured when the kiss reached its end, lips touching yours as he spoke. He pushed his forehead to yours, eyelashes laying so pretty on the tops of his cheeks as he closed his eyelids. “I want you, I’ve wanted you for years. But maybe we should take things slow.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t resist stealing another kiss that he was all too eager to respond to. A groan rumbled in his chest when you placed both hands on his wide shoulders, letting him guide you to lay down on the sand.

It wasn’t as dark as it had been when you first arrived, but the faint light cast an almost beautiful shadow to his face as he hovered above you. His eyes were dark pools, staring into yours while his hand brushed wet strands of hair from your face. He crooked them behind your ear, cupping your cheek to bring you up for another kiss that had you whimpering for more.

Take things slow. Wasn’t two years enough? How much longer were you supposed to wait?

Carlos must’ve shared that sentiment, trailing his lips down your jaw to your throat in sucking kisses. He licked your skin, tongue warm against your flesh as he tasted the saltwater and you squirmed at the touch.

“Need you, Carlos.” You murmured when he pulled away.

He laughed breathlessly like he couldn’t believe the words you were saying, a hand travelling down your body with his eyes fastened on yours. You didn’t even dare to blink, staring at him until his hand found its way into your shorts and underwear, brushing his finger against your clit. Your eyelids fluttered shut, mouth going slack when he swiped his fingers through the mess of wet, bringing them back to circle your clit.

You grabbed him with terse hands, gasping and moaning while he brought you to a quick climax. It was sudden and fast, absolutely earth shattering when you climbed up to the edge and toppled right over. Carlos silenced your moans with his mouth, not kissing, just slotted over yours as he stole your breath and sounds.

“You sound beautiful, nena.” He murmured, fingertip nudging your sensitive clit just to see the way your mouth dropped open in a shivered gasp. “Missed that look on your face.”

“Carlos.” Your voice sounded pleading, hand sliding to the back of his head to bury your fingers in his hair. “Want you right now. Please.”

He let out a shuddered breath, pulling his hand out of your shorts to unbutton his jeans and zip them down far enough to fish himself out. You struggled to not stare down between the two of you as you kicked your shorts and panties off, marvelling in the sounds he made as he spit in his hand and jacked himself off; slicking himself up generously.

There was a moment where you looked at each other, unblinking and silent. His cock slid against you, slicking himself up further before his head caught where you were clenching in anticipation. It was stupid and reckless, to not use protection and to even do it so publicly but you needed him.

You couldn’t wait for another hour, and neither could he, judging by the way he slid inside with a gasped breath. Your eyes clenched shut as the intrusion locked your body up, finding comfort in his hands as he brushed your face and pressed kisses to it. You relaxed, feeling the girth of him stretching you out the further he pushed inside.

It had been a while since someone had stretched you to your limits like he currently was, but you were eager to feel every inch of him and you made it clear by wrapping your arms around him, spreading your legs further like an invitation.

Carlos let out a breathless laugh, pushing his lips against yours in a loving kiss and you lost yourself in it as he began thrusting. He hit you deep, kissed your spot with the head of his cock and the coarse hair of his groin rubbed deliciously against your clit.

It wasn’t romantic, not something you’d see in movies, but it was intimate and perfect for you. He conveyed so much in the movement of his hips, eyes stuck on you like he didn’t dare to look away in fear of missing every twitch and movement of your face.

You got a hand between the two of you, moaning and gasping when your second orgasm crept up on you. It made your head spin, how fast you’d been brought to the edge yet again and you clenched around him, screaming out your climax. Carlos wasn’t far behind, all kinds of curses streaming from his lips as he pulled out and came on your lower abdomen.

The stark contrast of his warmth against your cool skin made you shiver, still struggling to come down from your high. Carlos let out a drawn out groan that screamed of sudden exhaustion, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the come off your skin before he dropped down; Half on top of you and half on the sand.

“Where are you staying?” You asked, voice a little raspy from how dry your throat was.

“My parents house.” He replied, eyes taking in the slope of your nose and the pout of your bitten raw lips.

You turned your head to smile at him, eyes fluttering as he pushed forward to kiss your mouth.

“You can stay with me.” Your voice was timid, a little shy and it made Carlos smile.

“Bueno.”

Carlos’ hand found your collarbone, stroking the pads of his fingers against the raised bone. His eyes caught on the glimmering necklace around your throat, heart stopping for a split second when the pendant caught the light and he realised what he was looking at.

The number 55 was staring up at him, so small but so glaringly obvious that he wondered how he’d failed to notice it.

You must’ve sensed his body language shift, eyes flicking over his face where it remained unmoving.

“I wanted to keep you close to my heart.” You whispered and it was like gospel to Carlos’ ears. “I never stopped loving you.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, face softening even more.

“Neither did I.”

He thought of the years he’d lived through without you, thinking of the missed time and opportunity he could’ve had with you if he had just picked up the phone. But it didn’t matter now.

Carlos gazed at your face, at the stars reflected in your eyes, and made a vow to himself to never let you slip away again.

[ltbarnes]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley:

Having a giggle/chuckle fest almost every time you are intimate. It first happened at the beginning of your relationship when you would giggle every time you two kissed. It opened the floodgates, had let that nervous energy out, and Simon was right there chuckling with you. ("Heh—aw, fuck me.")

Swearing up and down that you're gonna fuck each other's brains out but as soon as you hit the bed, you and Simon are out like a light. The last time this happened, he was supposed to go down on you, but the next thing you know, you woke up to him fast asleep with his head on your stomach.

Kissing the bridge of his crooked nose and Simon turning into putty every time. Hell, kissing any and every dent, bruise, and scar, and making your man melt.

A nice round of horizontal tango turning into a cuddle session after you comforted Simon through a charley horse. Poor baby.

Initially making the telly watch you two make sex but turns out whatever you're watching was pretty decent after all so you guys are back to watching the telly again.

Getting hot and heavy one time but you were so intrigued with the mole you discovered on Simon's inner thigh that you spent the next half-hour or so trying to find other moles on his body.

Telling Simon that you "always wanted to do this" and when you get him hot, bothered, and hard, it turns out what you always wanted to do was measure him. His disappointment was immeasurable... even if he was interested to know the number.

Twinning in some way, shape, or fashion whenever you're out together.

Talking mad shit about his snoring but let him tell it, he doesn't say shit when you take up about 80% of the bed, covers, and sleep under him.

Speaking of talking shit, having disagreements like every couple does and when you go to bed, you're angrily cuddling each other. And yes, Simon still wants your kisses in the morning, even if you two are still mad at each other. Simon doesn't give a shit, you're still gonna love on him, dammit. And him on you.

Being mad with Simon when he arrived too late to get the creepy crawler that was harassing you. Harassing you by doing what it does best: be a creepy crawler. Simon tells you you'll have to conquer your fear one day. You tell him to conquer the couch tonight lmao.

Agreeing to disagree about the superior ice cream flavor in the house. It's too bad there's not any of his favorite ice cream in the freezer. There's some of yours, though. Why? You didn't get any because it was so superior that you wouldn't "dare sully it with your hands". Cue the judgemental stare and him eating YOUR ice cream afterward. Rude.

Scaring the ever-living shit out of Simon on the rare occasions he gets to sleep in. He woke up to you sitting up in bed with his mask and paint on. Oh, and he calls bullshit. He did not nearly fall out the bed. Nor did he jump. Okay, Simon.

Chilling and drinking with Simon. Finding out he gets hot and sweaty pretty easily and off comes his clothes. Waking up hungover the next morning and you're the big spoon to a naked and equally hungover Simon. Choosing to do fuck all but sleep it off that day.

Playfully calling or referring to him as the Missus, especially in front of your co-workers. When they finally meet Simon and ask him who he is, he replies in pure deadpan Ghost fashion: "The Missus".

[ltbarnes]

The Neighbor

Hello friends I fucked off for a month but I’m back and I bring Price smut as an apology for my absence. @sky-is-the-limit’s “Im here to do what your boyfriend cant” prompt has lived in my brain rent free ecer since I read it and while I didn’t follow it verbatim, I did keep in spirit with the theme :)

Also womp I was gone for the Price challenge by @glitterypirateduck but this actually checks off a couple of the prompt options (first time being intimate, a confession/secret is discovered/revealed) so I’m submitting it.

There are a lot of tags. Make sure you read them.

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 4.8k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Accidental voyuerism by virtue of living in an apartment, the reader has a dogshit boyfriend at the beginning of the fic (there is no cheating), slut shaming (from the dogshit boyfriend), these two idiots are down bad for each other, sex toys, oral (F!receiving), unprotected PiV, gratuitous squirting because I’m me, not really heavy on BDSM elements but mentions of the following: bondage/restraints (John uses his hands, nothing crazy), something akin to subspace from how good the nut is, aftercare, John is a prick to the now-ex, very brief angst due to a quick misunderstanding, very vaguely implied somnophilia, rampant abuse of italics. Lemme know if I missed anything.

His neighbor is clearly used to Price being deployed.

She’s a sweet thing, really, and on the whole isn’t that disagreeable of a neighbor.

He just has one problem with her (not even her, really) that is a thorn in his fucking side- her boyfriend.

The boyfriend was not an issue when they first met- wasn’t in the picture at all.

And no John most assuredly hasn’t had it out for the guy since Day 1. The fact that John had gathered himself up to ask his pretty neighbor out when he came back from his latest mission, only to find out about the new boyfriend, does not color his impression of the other man. He’s grown and this is not the first time his advances have been turned away for whatever reason.

But there are, to his knowledge, no true redeeming qualities about the man and he is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

He catches bits and pieces through the walls. The boyfriend is not attentive, caring, or sweet to her. She is treated as a guest in her own home, and twice he’s heard bellowing shouts that had Price at the door with his fist banging against it- both to shut him up and make it exceptionally well known that if the boyfriend thinks intimidating a woman is going to fly, that Price will not hesitate to kick the door in.

The most appalling part of it all is that John has a front row seat to just how atrocious he is in bed.

For the life of him John does not understand. It’s not even like the lad’s a good lay.

He’s heard many stories of women tolerating absolutely atrocious behavior from the muppets they were with because he knew how to make them see stars.

That is exceptionally not the case here. And John is rapidly finding his patience wearing thin at continually being subjugated to his pathetic performance.

So what the hell is it about the boyfriend that keeps his neighbor so enamored with him?

John stares at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan turn as he tries to tune out the thumping of the headboard against the wall.

He thinks that if the man was just a bad lay and completely incapable of getting her anywhere, that would be one thing and John would continue to be frustrated but ultimately understand. But it’s the way he seems to actively ruin it anytime she has the audacity to enjoy having sex with him that truly grates on John’s nerves.

It’s not often, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then. The thumping of the headboard is accompanied by her sweet voice moaning lowly in short staccato notes as the boyfriend appears to finally be doing something right.

The thumping comes to a halt, and John groans in frustration.

“Why’d you stop?” He can hear his pretty neighbor lament through the thin walls.

“Why the fuck are you being so loud? Trying to give the neighbor a show?”

John squints his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. The fucking muppet can’t do anything right.

If the neighbor was his, John wouldn’t give a fuck who heard. Let all the neighbors know that he could fuck the sense clear out of her pretty little head. John could show the muppet what loud is.

“No! I’m not trying to do anything- it just felt good,” she defends herself.

“Well, be quieter about it, no one needs to hear that. You sound like a whore,” the muppet snaps at her irritably, and John is nearly at his fucking limit when the god damn headboard starts to thump against the wall again.

“Get out.”

Oh.

John is impressed- pleasure and pride coursing through him as his sweet neighbor stands up for herself rather than letting that ungrateful swine continue to berate her.

Good fucking girl.

“What did you just say?” The thumping stops.

“You don’t get to call me names. Get off of me and get out.”

For all his sins, it seems even the muppet has a line he’s not willing to cross.

There’s a shifting as he presumably pulls out and gets off the bed- the words are muffled but the tone is clear. The muppet isn’t above laying into her verbally though consent is (smartly) a line he won’t toe.

And good thinking on his part- John would probably tear through the drywall and turn him into a chew toy had that conversation gone in any other direction.

The door slams loudly, announcing the boyfriend’s departure.

John can’t help but keep his attention on his neighbor to see what her reaction is going to be. It is taking every ounce of self control he has to not follow the boyfriend and wring his neck in the parking lot.

There’s no conventional guide for how to address this situation with your neighbor. ‘Hello, I’ve fancied you for quite some time and that ungrateful prick somehow swept you up before I got the nerve to ask you out. I've had to hear you have the most lackluster sex ever for the past several months, and equal parts want to check in on how you’re doing emotionally after his latest stunt, and also want to bend you over and pin you to the mattress until you’re squealing. May I come in?’

He can’t say he is too surprised to hear things slamming about in the apartment- his pretty neighbor sounding more pissed off than upset, catching snippets of “Who the fuck does he think he is, talking to me like that” and “Motherfucker couldn’t find my clit with a map and a headlamp but can find the audacity to call me names-”

Okay, John has to fight back the urge to laugh at that last one lest she hear him. She’s quite the viper when (finally) provoked, and it just endears her more to him.

She doesn’t appear particularly distraught, the slamming and huffing and muttering concluding with her tossing herself on the bed.

It’s a very common occurrence that after the neighbor’s rendezvous with her lazy boyfriend, John is treated to a show where she finishes herself off with her toys.

The boyfriend, like many inadequate men, is threatened by them and John has heard the snide remarks.

Hilarious, he finds it, that a man incapable of getting her off is so adamant that she gets rid of them.

She hasn’t listened, clearly, as the low sound of her vibrator can be heard through the wall.

John is soon graced with the sound of her panting moans. His cock stiffens in interest at her voice, which is a frequent occurrence. She makes such pretty noises, mewling and whimpering as she works herself up.

Tonight is a whirlwind of emotions for his pretty neighbor, and at the end of the day her no-good boyfriend left her high and dry.

John will gladly enjoy the consequences of the boyfriend’s actions, one hand wrapping around his cock and beginning to stroke in time with her whines.

What he wouldn’t give for a chance to make her see stars. He’d be so good to her.

The reality of his job makes dating a logistical nightmare, part of what stayed his hand for so long.

He’s not blind. His neighbor is kind and sweet with a killer smile and wandering eyes. He’s caught her more than once ogling him when he’s returned home in uniform, or more nondescript tactical clothing.

Feeling her gaze on him always makes him puff up with pride, enjoying holding her attention no matter how fleeting. If he takes his time after a run and makes a point to pull the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his brow where she can see it, that’s his business.

So John thinks he’s dreaming when he hears that lovely voice whimper his name from the other side of the wall.

He stiffens, quietly waiting to see if he hears it again.

“John- Oh, fuck- please,” is all he needs to hear before he’s well and truly lost any semblance of patience.

Only having the presence of mind to dress himself enough to not warrant any errant looks from the other neighbors, he is at her door in a second.

It’s only after he knocks that he realizes he may well have killed whatever momentum she’s built for herself- given her muttering as she approaches the door- but he fully intends to make up for the stolen release.

She opens the door without looking through the peephole, obviously expecting it to be the ex based on the vitriol poised to spill at John’s chest, approximately eye level with where the (hopefully ex) boyfriend would be.

Once again he has to stifle a laugh, finding her a comical vision when the anger on her face melts away as her eyes flick up to his face with the realization that it is him at the door and not the object of her ire.

“What are you doing here, John?” Christ, he’s always been a sucker for pretty doe eyes. If he held even an ounce less of restraint he’d be mounting her right here for everyone to see.

“I’m here to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

Even as he reaches out to pull her in for a kiss, he’s watching her body language- gauging if she stiffens or shifts away.

She doesn’t.

In fact, her arms loop behind him and pull him closer, tugging on his hair and his shirt.

John’s not wasting any more time than he already has, walking her backwards into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before reaching back to lock it- he’s got no desire for any interruptions from wayward former boyfriends.

They separate for a moment as she paws at the hem of his shirt, clearly wanting it off of him. John is all too happy to oblige, preening under her attention. He’s always had the stockier build of a man who’s fitness came from utility in the field, opposed to the hard defined abs of someone who spends most of their time in the gym.

It’s cute, the way she has to pry her eyes up to his face- clearly liking what she sees and flustered by the fact that John can see her staring.

“I broke up with him,” she clarifies.

“Good,” is his simplistic response, although if John’s being honest with himself he doesn’t really care about the finer details. The little prick never deserved to have her and John finally has his chance to prove himself worthy.

“The bedroom’s this way,” she prompts between kisses.

Their clothes are peeled off in turns as they stumble towards the room. The layout is inverted to John’s own flat nextdoor, so despite having never stepped foot inside before he guides her to keep her from crashing into something behind her.

By the time they are collapsing against her bed, they’re stripped of everything except a scant thong on her and his own boxers.

She’s just so delightfully soft in his grip, John can’t keep his hands or his mouth off of her.

The feeling is reciprocated as she pushes up off the bed to grind against him. As much as he’s relishing in them dry humping and making out like teenagers, he’s wanted her for so long and now that she’s finally willing and pliant underneath him, he’s itching for a taste of her.

Kissing his way down her body- starting at her jaw, the column of her neck, across her collar bone, down her sternum; latching onto each nipple and teasing them to hardened peaks before continuing his path down.

He’s compelled by the urge to turn her into a chew toy as he reaches her belly, although he stifles that urge and keeps his teeth to himself.

He can’t quite resist giving a small nip as she squirms, clearly excited by the implication of where he’s heading.

There’s a damp spot on her underwear already as he kisses along the waistband while his hands tease with the elastic on either side of her hips.

The sound of her breath hitching in anticipation makes him smirk, attention drifting further south.

The fabric is in his way as he presses a kiss against her clothed cunt, gripping handfuls of her hips to keep her still as she bucks in his grasp.

“Easy, sweetheart- we’ve got all night,” he soothes before moving his attention up one thigh to the backside of her knee.

Those sweet thighs are splayed open for him, giving John unfettered access as he continues to tease.

“When’s this sweet cunt been eaten last, hm?”

He knows he’s heard her give that undeserving muppet head, but can’t recall any reciprocation occuring. There’s not much that can shock John at this point in his life, and he’s willing to roll the dice by dragging up her now-ex because he knows this poor thing hasn’t been eaten until she’s begging him off in ages.

“I couldn’t even begin to tell you,” she answers breathlessly, anticipating having her thighs twitching in his hold.

Out of the corner of his eye, John spies a torn condom wrapper that didn’t quite make it into the bin. Well that keeps him from having to ask two questions, then. Smart girl.

“What a shame,” he tsks lightly, peppering kisses back up and down her thigh.

Deciding that she’s waited long enough and he’s had his fun being a tease, John is quick to remove the scant lace and pull it off of her legs before tossing it to who-knows-where.

The sounds she makes as he makes a meal out of her is music to his ears. Each hitched moan and breathy whimper makes him stiffen in interest.

His attention shifts to focus on her clit, tongue circling the sensitive nub as his hands hold her hips in place.

As focused as he is on what’s right in front of him, it takes a moment for John to realize that she’s stifling her noises. One hand is fisting the sheets beneath her while the other is clamped across her lips.

Well. That simply won’t do.

The ex may have trained and shamed her into silence, but John didn’t make it as a military captain without learning how to break someone else’s bad habits.

He ignores her whimper of protest as he stops, one hand abandoning the softness of her hip in favor of grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth.

“None of that,” he admonishes gently, pressing a kiss to one thigh. “Let me hear you.”

“I-I’m too loud,” she protests and for a split second John sees red.

To his credit, he does not leave her wet and leaking on the bed to go bludgeon her ex to death with a blunt object.

“No such thing, sweetheart,” he soothes before having a thought to tease her. “Who are you worried is going to hear you?” He asks kindly, a shit eating grin as he speaks again, “the neighbor?”

Her wide eyed expression is thoroughly scandalized and John can’t fight the chuckle that escapes him.

He hasn’t released her wrist yet, deciding that it’s time to get back to his meal. If she abandons gripping the sheet with her free hand to cover her mouth again, he simply plans to hold both of her wrists.

It’s tentative at first, still not entirely trusting John at his word that he wants to hear her.

But John is all for positive reinforcement as a motivator, crooking his fingers to stroke that one spot that makes her see stars to encourage more from her.

She’s a quick study, although when she releases the sheet John is watching her like a hawk.

Rather than clasping over her mouth again, John is pleased when her fingers end up burying in his hair.

More than happy to let her guide him, John takes his cues from how she pulls at his hair. The feel of her thighs twitching as she breathes in staccato breaths is all the reward he needs.

“You’re getting close,” he says against her cunt, pointing out the obvious before getting back to work. She’s anxious, he thinks, the closer she gets to her climax. Poor girl doesn’t know what to do with herself with an orgasm she hasn’t had to put all the work into.

“D-don’t stop,” she stammers, rewarded immediately with John redoubling his efforts.

He’s not going to stop. Pretty thing like her deserves nothing less than laying on her back and enjoying getting her cunt eaten out.

“O-oh fuck,” is his only warning before she’s gushing on his face and John is like a kid on Christmas morning.

He doesn’t even know if she realizes she’s squirted, too caught up in the pleasure of her high.

He’s always thought it was hot- now that he knows his pretty neighbor is a squirter he is more than willing to get on his knees and pray to whoever is listening that this isn’t a one time event. He’ll do anything to get her to keep him.

Even as her high fades he doesn’t let up on her, continuing to work his middle and ring finger inside of her. All he wants is to see her cum- wants to see those eyes roll as she squeezes them shut in anticipation.

Despite pulling his face away from her wet pussy, he doesn’t leave her clit unattended for long before his thumb is gently circling in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

Kissing his way back up her body, John can’t help but be pleased as she pulls him in to make out with him. Snatched gasps and bucks of her hips grace his ears as he works her from orgasm to the next, the wet sound of his palm slapping against her.

“John Im gonna cum again,” she whimpers in warning.

He feels like a god with the way she stares up at him reverently, eyes wide and desperate for another climax.

“Come on,” he goads, “Show me- let me see your face when you cum.”

Christ if her leg twitches any harder it’s going to start vibrating, serving to only encourage him.

“O-oh,” she mewls, “God- don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t-“ she’s pleading with him like he wouldn’t sit at her feet if she asked him to.

The bewildered look on her face is darling, and John nearly finishes untouched; he's so wound up it’s not going to take much.

A few choice thoughts keep his own eminent climax at bay and buys him enough breathing room. She bucks and trembles in his hold, a high pitched squeal escaping her as he proves not only can he make her cum twice, but he can make her squirt like a faucet twice.

As soon as she’s starting to come down from her high she’s pulling at him, drawing up her knees to spread her legs in invitation.

“Greedy girl,” he teases as he kisses her- wet fingers abandoning her cunt in favor of manhandling her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he positions himself.

“Please, please, please-“ she begs so prettily for him, pleading for him to do exactly what he’s been fantasizing about for months.

He’s not a small man and mindful of that fact, but she’s well prepped and takes him easily. The desperate whimper that escapes her sears into John’s memory.

The buildup of everything finally gets to him as he wastes no time setting a steady pace.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Let me hear you,” he encourages as she cants her hips in time with his, whines of pleasure escaping her on each thrust.

“John, please,” she begs, eyebrows furrowing in pleasure as she watches where they’re joined.

“Eyes up here,” he instructs and Christ he almost loses it when her gaze flicks from between their bodies up to his face.

His hands find hers, fingers lacing together as he lowers his torso in order to kiss the ethereal creature underneath him.

She whimpers into his mouth, her sounds only encouraging John.

Everything about her is warm and inviting, from her soft skin to her warm cunt and the way she sings for him at every thrust.

Maneuvering them so he can grip both her wrists with one of his hands, the other immediately dives between their bodies to find her clit again.

His pretty neighbor has spent months not having an orgasm she didn’t give herself, and John is determined to prove to her that he can give her as many as she can handle.

“John I can’t cum again,” she pleads even as her thighs shake on either side of him.

“Yes you can,” he assures her. “One more time for me, yeah?”

Now, should she insist she’s done and satisfied then John would leave her clit alone and finish up their fun. As it is, though, she nods in acquiescence before the trembling in her thighs increases.

“Good girl,” he praises, fingers continuing their steady pace around her clit as she creeps closer to the edge.

She’s babbling in his ear as he presses a kiss to her temple and he knows she’s almost there.

“Good girl,” he praises again, a cocksure grin pulling at the corners of his lips at her immediate response.

“My good girl,” he ups the ante, testing her response to John staking a claim on her. And God did it ever work. That last little bit is all it takes to finally tip her over.

She clenches down on him like a vice and John immediately loses it, groaning low as the haze of his orgasm washes over him.

It’s everything he wants- she’s everything he wants as he recovers enough from his climax to finally notice that the bed is an utter mess beneath them.

It’s not his immediate concern however, more interested in soothing her through the come down of her high. She’s shivering underneath him, eyes glossy from the intensity of her last orgasm.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs reassuringly. “Just breathe for me.”

He gathers her up in his arms, listening as her heartbeat relaxes in time with his own.

Eventually when enough time passes she’s more alert and happily snuggling against his chest. After giving her a chance to rest he herds her along to the bathroom so she doesn’t give herself a UTI. She tries to brush him off but her legs are taking their sweet time cooperating again.

Of course, she’s not exactly a recruit taking a piss test so he gives her her privacy and she’s able to return on her own albeit on shaky legs.

John pets at her head idly, attention drifting in post coital bliss as his hand strokes down along her back.

“I can’t believe you’re actually in my bed,” she giggles deliriously after a stretch of quiet.

“Only reason I wasn’t here sooner was because of that muppet,” he assures her. He doesn’t want her thinking that this is a one time thing for him. He’s wanted her for so long he can’t possibly be expected to turn her loose at the end of the night.

“I only dated him because I didn’t think you liked me,” she scoffs at herself.

“Oh, it was nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you. But with my work I kept talking myself out of doing anything,” he tells her. “Kept telling myself you deserve better. And then you brought the muppet home and kept him around,” John grouses good naturedly at her. “Think they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

“I plead temporary insanity,” she jokes, snuggling closer against his chest. “But I got rid of him. And you finally made your move.”

He hums in agreement, sleep pulling at him now that he has her tucked up against his side.

John doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes with a jolt to the sound of pounding on her door.

He’s only been out for an hour or so when he checks the clock on the nightstand, his neighbor sprawled out next to him.

Well, now he knows she snores. The sound is light enough to have never heard it through the wall, but curled up next to him she’s like a cat purring loudly in his ear.

And he’s exceptionally pissed right off at the fact someone has woken him up. Especially considering he has one guess who it is.

He fully debates answering the door buck ass naked to teach the prick a lesson about banging on doors after midnight but settles on tossing his joggers on.

Much like when she opened the door for John, the ex is automatically trained at where her head would be rather than looking at John’s face.

“My eyes are here,” he quips sarcastically. “Why the fuck are you banging on the door this late.”

“Why th-“ the ex starts to parrot back before cutting himself off. “Why the fuck are you in her apartment? Why isn’t she answering?”

“She’s asleep,” John answers simply. There’s no obligation to explain the why and how he ended up in her apartment.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s asleep? How is she asleep after she just dumped me? And why the fuck are you here?”

The boyfriend (the ex boyfriend, he thinks with glee) is either oblivious or…

Well. The ex boyfriend is oblivious. Let’s just keep it at that.

“I’m here because you can’t do your job right. She’s asleep because I can. What part of that is confusing?”

“That stupid slag’s been fucking you behind my back-“

“No.” John is somewhat mindful of not giving a full on “screaming at recruits” bellow, but his voice booms into the corridor outside the apartment anyway. “You watch your fucking mouth. This” John gestures vaguely at his own presence in her flat, “just happened after she dumped you. You don’t get to hurl insults.”

“She hopped off of my cock and straight to yours- what the fuck else is it?”

“You couldn’t get her off,” John hisses in annoyance. “I’ve had front row seats to your shitty little performance more than once. Not 5 minutes after you leave and she’s having to handle it herself.”

“I can’t be expected to compete with a fucking vibrator!”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t need one to get the job done. Poor girl could barely get her legs to work to go to the loo and not give herself a UTI. Your skill issues are what started all of this.”

“You know what? Fucking have her. I don’t need this shit.”

Ah yes, because John needs the ex’s permission to date a newly single woman. Absolutely. That’s entirely how that works.

“Never needed your blessing. Now fuck off. I’m trying to sleep.”

The ex responds with a two finger salute as he spins on his heel and storms off.

John is almost tempted to grab him by the back of his neck and turn him into a chew toy. Given his military career, his patience for muppets giving him attitude is virtually nonexistent.

But the siren call of his pretty neighbor is a stronger pull than the muppet can ever hope to achieve. John’s succeeded in his mission to run the prick off, and he’s going to try to get a few more hours of sleep before seeing if she’s interested in another romp in the morning when she wakes up.

The bedroom is dark and poorly lit but John immediately picks up on the silence.

Rather than being sprawled out and snoring like when he left her, she’s quiet and curled into a ball.

She’s awake.

“Sweetheart?” He calls softly.

She jolts, fabric rustling from the sheets falling off her as she sits up.

“You’re still here,” the surprise in her tone cuts, although he knows she didn’t mean for it to.

She seems to realize how that comes across and clarifies further, “I- I heard the door shut.”

It falls into place for him then- she woke up to the sound of the door and John nowhere to be found. She thought he’d left.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he consoles, making his way back to the bed. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he assures her while gathering her back into his arms.

Sleep comes back readily once the two of them are situated back in the bed.

Come morning, John’s got the patience and the presence of mind to throw a towel on the bed. He finds out for himself that his neighbor makes the prettiest noises with her arse propped up in the air and her face still buried in her pillow.

He can’t help but laugh later when she texts him that one of the neighbors made a noise complaint.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

[ltbarnes]

nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.

that was until your worried voice called for him.

you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.

“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”

“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”

you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.

“who’re you looking for?”

you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”

“ghost?”

you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”

“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”

“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”

you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint –or two– with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.

"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.

"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."

you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.

you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.

you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?

"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.

his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.

"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.

you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.

he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.

"love?" he called you.

still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.

"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.

"ghost?"

he shook his head. "simon, love."

"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.

he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.

you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.

this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.

he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.

[ltbarnes]

marriage of convenience with ghost....... is definitely not for the weak. or, if you think he's still gonna be this grumpy son of a bitch that you know from your high school days.

you need money and good health plan; and he can provide you that, so with trembling hands, you send him a letter; strictly to his unit. not many details, as if someone would read it, you'd be in trouble. just a simple ask if you could meet with him, if he still remembers you because you still remember him.

it's not easy as you'd like to, though - everything has to wait because he's on deployment for the next two months, but you can wait. you struggle, but you wait.

in the meantime, you exchange letters with him, as it's more of a "stationing" deployment rather than a open crossfire; you didn't expect he'd be so much of a talker in them. you learn about him and his "comrades" (because he rarely uses the word friends anymore), what it's like. what he misses, and you learn that he miss you.

you feel kind of bad that you reached out to him for materialistic matter in the first place. you feel even more bad when you see him right in front of you after two months of writing to each other.

he changed. very much so; he's bigger and wider than he was in high school. more nonchalant, nothing like a quiet boy like he was. simon looks like he owns the place, even if the said place is a hill that you used to chill at after school.

you break news to him within ten minutes of the meeting, nervous. there's a lot of monologue from your side, you don't even let him talk until he grips your jaw in his monstrous hand and your lips shut themselves automatically.

"okay."

and then, just like it, it's done. you think it's gonna be easy, an open marriage until you're gonna be stable. he's so much on deployment anyway, he said it himself, so you won't be obliged to do "wife duties".

you thought this way until the wedding night. until he grabbed you and asked how would you like it.

[ltbarnes]

A stray cat wanders into the base and follows Simon around. You overhear him crooning “good girl” to it and you’re instantly reduced to a puddle 🫠🫠 hoping you’ll catch him saying it again. He’ll totally use it against you though if he realises the effect it has on you

Meow bestie!

This is adorable I love it! I got carried away, I sawry 🥹👉👈

Simon has never had pets.

He’s away so often, he couldn’t look after them. Also getting attached to things isn’t really something he wants to engage with.

Things get broken or lost. Animals shuffle off the mortal coil too soon and sometimes people do as well.

So when the scrawniest looking cat wanders up to him one night on base, he ignores it. Inhaling the last of his cigarette and tossing it onto the gravel beneath him.

The cat meows and rubs against his legs, unfazed by his daunting presence, eyeblack or mask.

“I ain’t got any food.” Si tells it sternly.

It gives his knee a soft headbutt. In spite of himself, he bends down and scratches it’s little face.

But as he begins the walk back to his room, his new friend follows happily. Si tries to shut the door on it, but it yowls so loudly outside that he caves in to get some shut eye.

When he wakes up, it’s curled on his bare chest, purring happily.

Several weeks later, ‘Kitty’ the imaginatively named cat, is a permanent fixture on base. She adores Soap and Gaz, sitting in their laps during briefings, but her real affections lie with Simon.

Crossing the canteen early one morning, ready to make coffee, you overhear Si in the kitchen.

“There’s your breakfast. Eat it slowly now yeah?”

Your feet stop in their tracks. Simon Riley is intimidating, Ghost is even more scary. You haven’t had much to do with him so far, other than admiring the way he looks in his tactical gear from a distance.

“Good girl Kitty, you’re such a good girl ain’t ya.” His voice is so soft and the effect it has on you is almost instantaneous.

Cheeks hot, you’re almost panting at the way he’s talking to his bloody cat.

Surreptitiously, you creep round the corner and eye him. Kitty is on the counter of the small kitchen, face covered with cat food, while Simon tickles her ears.

Deciding you’re not brave enough to interrupt the tender scene, you sneak back out of the canteen. But you can’t get Si’s voice out of your head, it plays on repeat all day.

Three mornings in a row, you quietly observe him feeding the cat, dying internally every time he calls her a ‘good girl’.

He says it once when you’re in a meeting with him and Soap, as Kitty jumps into his lap. Honestly you have to suppress a squirm in your chair.

Simon looks at you through his balaclava, eyes narrowing, but doesn’t say anything. You swear you see his mask twitch slightly with humour.

The next morning, as you finish your usual ritual in the canteen, a deep voice stops you in your tracks. You’d been heading for the door, brain full of thoughts about being Si’s good girl.

“Think you’re being fuckin sneaky don’t you.”

You cringe, turning to face him. His broad shoulders are set and he’s crossed both arms over his muscled chest.

Words die on your tongue. Kitty paws at your boot laces.

“Why d’ya keep coming in here and then leaving without sayin anything?” Simon asks, head tilting in a way that makes your stomach clench.

“Don’t want to interrupt you.” You whisper, trying to back away.

Simon chuckles.

“Liar. And if you were interrupting me I’d have told you off already.”

God your eyes are about to pop out of your head, you’re sure of it. He’s so fine, dark eyes burning into yours with interest.

Then his mask twitches again.

“Be a good girl, go and get your coffee. Get me one too ta? Black two sugars.”

You almost get on your knees for him then and there.

Why do I now wanna add Simon and Kitty to my ever expanding WIP list 😩

Also I cannot find the artist to credit on this cute art 😭 please let me know if it’s yours or you have a tag so I can add! (Found on Pinterest)

[ltbarnes]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 27] || [Chapter 29]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff, love confessions! Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: Just a cute little moment

Chapter 28: How in the-

The trip with John was short but sweet. A full weekend together, away from everything…

Followed by 4 whole weeks alone. Not that you minded the extra piece and quiet.

You were normally kept at a distance from the boys and their line of work. Arms length, not because they don’t trust you, but because just like Simon learned to drop Ghost at the door, the rest drop work at the door too.

The closest thing you get to ‘work’ is funny anecdotes that can even make you laugh, OR soft, whispered, retelling of memories as your hands snake over their rough skins, fingers grazing the scars that those memories left behind.

Today was a first. In a lot of ways.

The boys showed up at your flat at 3 A.M. after spending a whole month out of Hereford and in God knows where.

You had opened the door very wearily to the sight of the four of them, not even having changed out of their tactical gear, looking like they had been through hell.

Kyle was walking with a limp and a groan, his back stiff and an inability to properly swivel side to side at the hips.

Johnny had gotten his shoulder shot?? Plus his knee was acting up so he was also limping.

John was, also, limping. His back was also stiff and he murmured something about having pulled a muscle.

And Simon? The man’s eyes were surrounded by circles darker than you’d ever seen them, his shoulders slumped. He moved normally, unlike the others. And that concerned you more than anything.

“Jesus, what happened?”

“Mission mishaps. They happen sometimes, da’lin’.” John told you soothingly as he attempted to press a kiss to the crown of your head, but wincing when he felt the pain shoot up his spine.

“Sounds to me like more than mishaps. There’s no way all four of you are injured and it was just a ‘mishap’.” You scolded them as you carefully helped them off their gear, multiple men groaning and grunting in pain as the heavy weights were shed from their torsos.

“Have you been checked?”

“Yes, we went to medic before coming over-” Kyle told you.

“And they let you leave on foot? You look like you all should be on bed rest!” You scolded them.

“And that’s why we’re here.” Johnny added before letting out a groan when you moved his arm, sending pain barreling down his arm.

“How in the-” You murmured as you noted the patched up bullet wound.

“Don’t ask…” Kyle muttered under his breath, a whimper of a sound that you had never quite heard from him.

They were like lost puppies… Needy for being lulled to sleep by a soft hand caressing them behind the ears after some nasty man kicked them on the street.

So that’s how you ended up with four injured soldiers in your house. Ghost took the living room couch, leaving the bed for John and Kyle and Johnny.

“Don’t get any blood on my bed, Johnny!” You warned him. “If something happens, you call me.” You had added as you made sure they were as comfortable as can be before you slipped out of the room.

Reaching the living room, it was now well past 4 A.M. Simon was lying there, one leg swung over the back of your couch, and eyes locked on the shower. “You okay, Simon?” You checked softly.

“Fine, sweetheart.”

“Don’t look fine to me.” You retorted and sat on the armchair by his head, looking down at him, your hand finding his and caressing it.

He twitched a bit against the pillows, brown eyes fluttering for a moment as he took a deep breath. “Mission went tits up. Strained ourselves trying to finish.”

“You too, then?” You asked him and he nodded. “Where?”

“Everywhere. I’m sore all over… And I think I have a fever.” He admitted.

“Do you wanna try a shower?” You suggested and he shook his head.

“I don’t wanna stand up for that long… I get dizzy.”

“And a bath?” You added.

“…” Simon didn’t answer but he groaned and forced himself to stand up. You helped guide him to the bathroom.

After lowering the stopper and allowing the water to flow into the tub, you looked at Simon. “I’ll be outside, okay? I’ll give you privacy.” You told him softly.

Leaning up, you kissed his pale cheek, and turned away…

Only for him to catch you by the wrist. “Stay.”

“What?” You asked him, unsure you heard him right.

“Stay. Please.” He requested.

“But… you said you didn’t-” You trailed off, the memory of his fear of exposing his body to you (or anyone) clear in your mind.

“I know what I said. Just… Please.” He insisted.

“Okay.” You replied and nodded, stepping forward again. He reached his arms up, painfully slowly, the same way John and Kyle and Johnny had.

You grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and slowly rolled it up, your eyes finding his scar-riddled torso for the first time. Blotchy skin due to chemical burns here and there, big gashes and smaller cuts spread throughout.

Simon was looking away the whole time as you helped him off his cargos and underwear. The injuries continued down his legs, every inch of him nasty and ugly, only due to how brutal his scars were. In reality, it all made no difference to you.

“You okay?” You checked on him. He nodded slowly, his eyes screwed shut.

“Let’s get you into the water, okay? It’ll do you good.” You said as you grabbed him by the bicep and helped get him into a seated position inside the tub.

Then, you knelt by his side just as he was grunting in relief, his muscles relaxing in the water. 

The bathtub that had felt tight with you and Johnny in it months ago, now felt even smaller with Simon Riley in it. 

Grabbing the sponge, you carefully ran it over his torso and shoulders, wetting the part of him that didn’t fit in the bath.

The blond leaned his head back on the wall and opened his eyes, finding you looking at him.

“Thank you.” Simon told you in a whisper.

“For bathing you?”

“For dating me.” He replied, causing you to smile.

“My, Simon, you might be sicker than I expected. Where’s the confidence?” You teased him good-naturely, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Was never here. Just faking it until I made it…” He admitted and shook his head, letting it lull against the tiles.

“I see, well… It worked.” You joked as you kept wetting his body carefully.

“We’re lucky to have you.” He murmured. “You didn’t have to do this. To put up with us.”

“It’s not putting up if I like you.” You told him. “Besides… you take care of me. I take care of you. Mutually beneficial, that’s what a relationship should be.”

“I don’t take care of you because I like you.” Simon whispered, a drowsy look in his tired eyes.

“Then what for?” You asked him. “Because you want to shag me that bad?” You joked again and winked.

“No… because I love you.” Simon muttered, his lips a bit lazy in the way he said it, clearly too relaxed and tired and groggy to really think straight.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped open, your hands going limp and dropping the sponge. “Simon…”

“You don’t have to say it back.” He said as he rolled his head against the tile wall, side to side. “Just wanted you to know.”

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[ltbarnes]

୨ৎ cowgirl

a little bar challenge word count: 1.1k characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price content: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much

"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.

the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.

"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."

you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.

"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."

you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"

"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."

Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.

"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.

"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"

after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 

you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.

eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.

what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.

Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.

Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.

the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.

Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 

"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.

the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 

"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.

your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.

after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.

okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...

[ltbarnes]

johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

-

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

-

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when there's you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

-

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am

[ltbarnes]

Um… König who thinks every woman with large breasts lactates. And you find out when he’s sucking too hard.

getting so many titty related requests y’all know him a lil too well…

this with inexperienced!könig !! you’re riding his thick fingers, trying to get them to hit the spongy spot at the front of your cunt because he keeps forgetting to curl them. he started making out with your tits as soon as you gave him the okay, noticing the way his eyes honed in on them since you lifted your shirt and taking pity on him. it’s not until he starts nipping at your sensitive nipples, the suction of his mouth borderline painful, that you try to pull away.

“ow! what are you doing?”

his eyes are almost completely black when he looks up, mouth shiny with his own spit. it matches the glossy sheen on your breasts, all swollen and red from his efforts. “trying to… get the milk…” he heaves, ready to dive back in.

you hold him back to inform him that lactation usually only happens when a woman is pregnant, and he gets all pouty and confused, reaching up with his free hand to inspect your boobs. “but they’re so heavy… and fat?” he tries to squeeze your nipple to make sure.

he’ll genuinely think the solution is to just get you pregnant so he can taste your milk. all you can do is sigh. you’re not sure what you got yourself into…

[ltbarnes]

himbo!konig who desperately seeks your approval. you squeeze his biceps one day, marveling at how strong he is and after that he jumps at any opportunity to prove his strength as if he just found out about it himself. oh your heels are hurting your feet? he’s carrying you wherever you need to go, shushing your protests like you’re a petulant child the whole time. you want to see how many pushups he can do with you on his back? no? doesn’t matter — hop on, he’s showing you anyway. it’s only a coincidence that he keeps injuring the arms of the guys you mention that you find attractive, they shouldn’t have agreed to arm wrestle someone that’s clearly much bigger than them. ://

its overwhelmingly obvious how big he is, but it’s hot how desperate he is to impress you, so you let him show off anyway. he’s just a big meathead that only has room in his brain for you. :3

[ltbarnes]

MORE KÖNIG HEADCANONS

his full name is Freidrich 'Fritz' Leichenberg.

Leichenberg means 'Pile of corpses'. It got him picked on in school and feared in the military. It sort of helped him shape his persona while on the battlefield.

He loves horror movies, particularly movies where the horror centers on nature (ie The Descent, The Ritual, Annihilation)

He's completely normal under the mask. Not a 10/10 handsome but not hard to look at either. It's his personality that makes him cuter or uglier to people who know him.

Dude has an APPETITE. Being massive in height and in muscle means he's just always fucking hungry.

He used to be chubby as a kid. that also got him picked on. He started playing sports around 14 years old and it got him into shape- and he was the star of the basketball team.

He doesn't let anyone see him at the gym. He works out in private.

People assume someone of his size isn't fast. He's fast as FUCK.

Being on friendly terms with him is difficult because he's not considered very pleasant. He's pushy, arrogant, and cares more about performance than intent. He WILL point out mistakes and insist that they be used as learning opportunities. "Do not fuck up like that twice."

But once he's decided he likes someone, he's out for their approval. He wants the person he respects to respect him in return.

Someone please take this poor nerd on a date that doesn't involve a lot of conversation, he doesn't know how to carry one until he's comfortable with someone.

[ltbarnes]

This video but with Simon lmao

Aka… ex-boyfriend Ghost showing you how fast he could get in helping you get back into your apartment that you accidentally locked yourself out of. Mostly inspired by it (reader also got a bit of a spicy temper in this one 👹)

“So… I accidentally locked myself out of my apartment…” You trailed off, holding your phone close to your ear, tapping your foot on the ground.

It was a simple mistake, you swore to it. Not that it would change Simon’s mind on the matter, at all. “You locked yourself out? You left without a key?” He responded, trying to get wind of the situation, aside from a hint of disbelief.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It was a fucking accident. I forgot my key!” You retorted with a layer of sharpness to your voice.

You were met with a moment of silence from Simon’s end. You couldn’t blame him, though, it had been a hot minute since the two of you last spoke. But he did say to call him if you ever needed anything. You supposed you could consider him a friend, of sorts—regardless if the remnants of your past relationship was still in the air, as one and off as it was.

He sighed, grumbling something to himself before abruptly hanging up on you. It wasn’t exactly a direct answer, but you knew him well enough to know exactly what he was saying. Stay put, I’ll be there soon.

So you ‘did as told’, leaning right by the door of your flat. It was getting dark, and these weren’t exactly the best areas that Britain had to offer. Not that you weren’t confident you couldn’t defend yourself, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. And you were certain your guard was up to its fullest extent, your eyes casting glances here and there around the old corridors. Your ears perking up at the slightest bits of sound, your hand keeping a firm grip on your phone.

But nonetheless, your mind had started to wander. It had been so long since you had last seen Simon in person, months, actually. Almost a year, you estimated. You could say you somewhat missed him, just not the fighting every other day or the way he closed himself off to you. Though to be fair, you were a little pushy or confrontational in some ways, it might’ve done you some good to be a bit more patient with him.

“Love,” A deep, grumble of a voice reverberated just inches from your ear.

You practically jumped out of your skin, your reflexes instinctively kicking in as you forced your body to turn around in a matter of milliseconds. Your hands raised, just inches above your waistline, half-thrown into fists. Your eyes instantly met a wall of a man, the black fabric of his hoodie almost brushing against you.

Oh. Never-mind.

“Simon?” You practically growled out, your breathing hitched as you lifted your head up to meet his judging gaze. You groaned, crossing your arms in discontent. So much for being on high alert, damn soldier. For as big as he was, he was as quiet as a pea-sized mouse, which is something that you unfortunately never fully got used to.

Your ex-boyfriend simply stared at you, his hand hovering just an inch off the small of your back. His breathing was steady, a soft hum rumbling through his chest at the very sight of your face, regardless of the displeasure shown in your expression. “You know how easy it would’ve been for me to snatch you up?” His expression remained firm, though there was a hint of softness in his demeanor, if you squinted hard enough.

You could only roll your eyes. The man just got here, practically scared the absolute shit of you, and now he’s berating you? For what? Well, for not paying attention, of course, for leaving yourself vulnerable, for as many times as he had scolded you on that matter. The absolute nerve of this guy… “Oh, piss off,” You scoffed, your head held high.

Simon stepped out from behind you, moving the hand that basked in the warmth radiating off of your lower back to the cold abyss of his hoodie’s pocket. He paid no mind to your words, only huffing in response. It was a bluff, that he already knew—you wouldn’t have even said a damn thing to him if you didn’t need him here.

“And what do you plan on doing?” You asked him, your gaze turning to scan the lock on your door, and then back at your ex-boyfriend, “I’ve tried everything I could think of.” You shrugged, uncrossing your arms.

For a minute, he didn’t even bother to look at you, his eyes fixated on the cheap door that kept out everyone else but you. “Everything? Picking at the lock?” He questioned, his head turning to look at you, his expression remained unwavering for the most part. “Kicking in the door?”

“Yes, everything,” You responded, a hint of irritation in your voice, “Well, I didn’t kick at it, I don’t want to pay for damages.” You took a deep breath in and out, looking back at the damned door that kept you from getting into your flat, “Listen, if you can’t get at it, I’ll just call a–”

Boom!

The sound traveled through one ear and out the other, your breathing picked up in pace. Your eyes instinctively closed shut at the gust of wind that brushed against you. You stood still for a moment, hesitantly opening your eyes back up after a half second.

Simon’s foot gently re-planted itself back onto the ground, his head held high at the sight of your door creaking back and forth, clinging to the rusted hinges that held it up. He straightened his posture, chest puffing out, studying the small bits of your apartment’s interior that was newly visible. “Easy fix,” he casually said, his eyes moving to study the expression on your face.

You peaked inside, at least relieved you were no longer locked out, “Seriously, Simon?” You asked, looking back up at him.

He didn’t respond, instead gesturing to your apartment, waiting patiently. Are you going side or not? You could only shake your head, humming lowly. And with your head hanging low, you stepped inside, stopping the moment you reached the middle of the living room. You glanced around. Home sweet home, you supposed.

“My door,” You raised your brows and turned around, placing a hand on your hip, the other gesturing to your door that was still swinging back and forth.

The beast of a man stepped up to the doorway of your flat, placing his hands on the creaking wood, inspecting whatever damage he may of done. He rattled the door knob and lifted the door to scan its hinges, humming as he made his judgement. “Hinges are a bit loose, nothing I can’t take care of,” he finally responded, stepping through the doorway. You could swear his gaze softened at the sight of you standing so confidently in front of him.

You stayed silent for but a minute, turning to look at your kitchen, and then back at Simon. So what if he helped you get back into your apartment, and so what if he was so kindly offering to fix your door for you. And so what if he was your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t spoken to in months before this…

You sighed, scratching the back of your neck before bringing your arms to your sides, “What do you want for dinner?” It was the least you could do in return, you reasoned.

Disclaimer: I am NOT idolizing this sort of behavior as shown in the video and we all know Simon would never seriously do something like this (unless you were in danger I’d imagine)! Just thought it was a silly writing idea 😂