#Their the only ones that can really see how much of a little weirdo he is
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kacievvbbbb · 4 months ago
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The Red Hair Pirates Navigator gets sick or something while Mihawk is visiting and Mihawk, who rides around on an overgrown raft and has probably never steered an actual real ship in his life but loves a challenge, volunteers himself as a stand in while acting like they've forced his hand.
So it's just like
Absolutely No one:
Mihawk (sighing) : I guess since you've begged I'll do it 🙄
And Shanks is so excited because Mihawk is actually taking a vested interest in his crew and this is probably the closest he will get at having him as an official rhp and of course watching Mihawk do piratey things he rarely does is very hot.
Everyone else has a couple of......questions
Benn: I've never seen Hawkeyes use a map before, I'm not even sure he own's a log pose.
Shanks (insanely whipped would let Mihawk crash them into the rocks like a sailor to a siren call) : But he get's where he needs to go and that's the important bit.
Mihawk gives directions that the helmsmen has never heard of in his life, never actually opens a map navigates soley on memory, they don't see a single Island for days and he leaves the crew wondering how exactly it is he ever gets anywhere. They still somehow arrive 3 days earlier than expected.
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ataraxiaspainting · 1 month ago
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360-Degree Vision.
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Yan Silas x F Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, non-con, oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, Silas calls himself Mommy because he's a weirdo, and "force feeding".
Word Count: 700.
OC and art pictured above belongs to amazingly talented @meo-eiru!! i really love her art, so be sure to check her out!! <333
*~*~*~*
Silas only allows autumn leaves and snow to fall where your feet don’t touch but your eyes can still see.
It’s an odd sort of shape, the barrier he has around his tree. It reminds him of those little sketches you do he puts by his bedside table. He read from a book that human mothers do that whenever their children give them drawings, though you never gave yours to him per se. More likely than not you were waiting for a more special occasion, but he found them in your toy box whilst he was tidying up from another long day of taking care of you. 
What a unique art style you have – he read in the same book that human children’s little doodles can be nearly unrecognizable from what they are supposed to be most of the time, so he doesn’t question how the circles you drew kept going around and around and leading to nowhere.
A snail’s shell, perhaps? 
The spirals seemed too large and too filled… 
He’ll give you points for creativity. 
Positive reinforcement was key with these kinds of things, or so he’s been told – if you ever ask for a pet snail, he’ll get one for you in little to no time at all.
*~*~*~*
“Baby,” Silas’ smile is smaller because of the concern he has for you right now. “You have to finish your dinner. It’s good for you. When you finish we can go see little mushrooms and squirrels, okay? Only for a little bit though,” His right hand is still above your head, squishing you down when your body seems to want to get up too soon. “Mommy doesn’t want you to get sick again…”
Despite Silas sitting down, he was still more than half your height – your knees sink further into the mattress both of you are on.
They are shivering so much but he doesn’t notice.
No, it’s not that he doesn’t care – he’s too busy flaunting his length and chest to you to pay attention to how you actually feel, wanting you to pick your poison once again; seeing this as necessary to your development.
Last time for yesterday’s meals you chose his cock – the day before that you chose his breasts.
The more you suck from him, the more you’re given treats after. Something resembling those colorful markers you used to get at the local dollar store, containers of blueberry yogurt you hope came from his village’s cows or some similar type of animal, a new dress he had sewn himself or had customized and bought from a nearby elf tailor.
“I’ll even bring some paper and those pencils you like drawing with, hm?” Silas continues as he scoots closer to you – he holds your hair so gently now, but whenever he cries tears of pure happiness the grip will tighten quickly. “Maybe you can see a snail up close for those little spirals you like doing.”
No matter how much you rebel and kick and scream, the elf wouldn’t move back from you – if anything it gives him more of a reason to come closer, so you can have more of his ‘love’. After only a little bit of time, you learned how to let the frustration out in a way that didn’t have Silas doting over you so suffocatingly – drawing spirals. You were told once by a friend they can be therapeutic in times of stress. You most likely will never see her again but you would want to hug her because it works. 
You hid them amongst the dolls and building blocks you were given in times you were alone – staring at them made you feel less lonely, made you feel like you had more of a choice in how you spent your waking hours.
You didn’t expect Silas to find them. He never checks your toy box because you tidy it up so often.
You don’t know how to explain your drawings in a way Silas will understand. Not that he understands a lot of things that come out of your mouth.
You just nod. Maybe drawing a snail’s body below those spirals can help you too.
“Good girl! Listening so well!” His smile widens and you can see his eyes getting watery already.
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pucksandpower · 9 days ago
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Love at First Wink
Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader
Summary: in which Charles can’t wink, you think he might be having a stroke, fans (and media) notice something strange, and your love story is immortalized through Reddit posts
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r/NoStupidQuestions
u/LordPerceval · 16h
How do I learn to wink without looking like a weirdo?
Alright, so I’m 27M, and for some reason I’ve never really figured out how to wink without looking like I’m having some kind of muscle spasm or, I dunno, an awkward twitch. Like, I see people do it in movies or just casually, and it always looks so smooth and effortless. But when I try, either both of my eyes close (which, yeah, not a wink) or I just look like I’m really struggling.
It’s honestly starting to bug me because it would be nice to be able to wink in a fun way, like in a “just playing around” or “gotcha” kind of moment. But instead, I avoid it completely because I’m scared I’ll make things super weird or uncomfortable.
So, how does one go about learning how to wink properly? Is it just a practice thing? A facial muscle thing? Am I overthinking it? Any tips are appreciated, even if they seem basic. Thanks in advance!
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u/SmoothOperator · 15h
Ah, the ol’ wink struggle! Don’t worry, man, you’re not alone. First thing you gotta do is RELAX. If you’re overthinking it, your whole face gets tense and that’s what makes it look awkward. Try it in front of a mirror, and focus on just casually closing one eye without squinting or forcing it too much. It’s more about a light, quick gesture than a full-on eye close.
And yeah, it’s 100% a muscle thing, so if it feels weird, it’s probably because your face isn’t used to it yet. You’ll get there with some practice. Also, remember, winks aren’t meant to be perfect. They’re supposed to be playful and a little subtle. Don’t go for the exaggerated “movie star” wink, just keep it light!
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u/awkwardpenguin · 13h
I totally feel you on this. I’m 24F and still can’t wink without looking like a malfunctioning robot. I found it helped to practice with only one side of my face in the mirror first. Maybe try winking with your left eye only for a while, get that one down, and then see if the right side follows?
Also, don’t overthink it too much! Sometimes a half-bad wink can be charming if it’s done in the right moment. Shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously!
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u/TheRealMaverick · 12h
Dude, it’s just like learning to snap your fingers. Some people just get it, and some people gotta work on it. I couldn’t wink for years without looking like I had something in my eye. My advice: watch yourself in the mirror and do it slowly at first. Get the feel of which muscles you’re using. Start by squinting a bit with both eyes, then try to isolate one. Once you get it down slow, speed it up.
Also, fun fact: some people can only wink with one eye and not the other. So if your right eye’s just not cooperating, maybe you’re a left-eye winker!
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u/CouchPotatoSupreme · 10h
Haha, I went through this same struggle. My trick was to add a little smile to the wink. It somehow makes the whole thing look more natural and less like you’re trying too hard. Plus, smiling relaxes your face, so the wink looks smoother. Try it next time you practice!
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u/theeyeguy · 9h
It’s all about muscle memory, man. The more you do it, the more natural it feels. I recommend winking at random stuff when no one’s around — like your TV, the microwave, whatever. You’ll build up the muscle coordination without feeling weird about it. Eventually, your face will stop fighting you, and you’ll just be able to fire off a wink like a pro.
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u/ActuallySocrates · 7h
Are you maybe closing your eye too slowly? A lot of people mess up winking because they think it’s a slow, exaggerated thing. But the trick is to make it fast and subtle. You want it to be quick, almost like a blink but with only one eye. If you’re dragging it out, you’re probably straining the muscles too much, which makes it look awkward.
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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 6h
Honestly, just own it. I can’t wink either, but I found that the more I tried to force it, the worse it looked. So now, when I attempt to wink and it looks ridiculous, I just laugh it off and it becomes this goofy thing instead of a weird thing. Sometimes confidence is half the battle, even if you’re failing at winking.
Good luck, dude!
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***
r/WouldIBeTheAsshole
u/UnmedicatedStudent · 9h
WIBTA for telling a stranger I think he might be having a stroke?
So, this is a bit weird, but I’m a 24F med student (just started my clinical rotations), and I’m currently studying at this cafe. There’s this guy sitting at a table directly across from me, maybe mid-to-late 20s? And for the last 30 minutes or so, his left eye has been twitching a lot. At first, I thought it was just one of those random muscle twitches that we all get, but it’s been consistent. It’s actually kind of intense, and he keeps rubbing his face like it’s bothering him.
Here’s the thing: as a med student, I know that eye twitches can be totally benign, but I also know they can sometimes be signs of something more serious, like a stroke or some kind of nerve issue. I keep debating whether I should just casually go up to him and be like, “Hey, not to freak you out, but I’ve noticed your eye twitching for a while now. I’m a medical student, and you might want to get it checked out, just in case.”
BUT I’m also aware that I could come off as a complete weirdo. Like, maybe he’s just stressed or tired, and here I am, a random stranger diagnosing him in a public place. I don’t want to embarrass him or make him anxious over nothing, but I also feel like I’d be an AH if I don’t say something and there actually is a problem. What if it’s a mini-stroke or something and I just sit here doing nothing?
So, WIBTA if I go up to him and suggest he sees a doctor?
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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 8h
NTA. I think there’s a way to approach it without making him feel super uncomfortable. Maybe go with something like, “Hey, I’m a med student, and I’ve noticed your eye twitching. It’s probably nothing serious, but I just wanted to mention it because sometimes it can be a sign of something that should be checked out.” If you keep it casual and friendly, most people would probably appreciate the concern rather than be freaked out.
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u/ItsNotABug · 7h
Agreed. NTA. If it were me, I’d rather someone point it out than have it potentially be something serious and not know. It’s all about the way you frame it. I mean, worst-case scenario, he’ll just laugh it off and say he’s been staring at his laptop too long. But best case? You could be catching something early. Definitely worth a try.
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u/ChillZebra · 5h
Soft YTA if you approach it the wrong way. I can see how he might feel embarrassed or weirded out if a stranger suddenly tells him his eye is doing something abnormal, especially in a public setting. I’d probably feel a little awkward. BUT if you go in with tact and don’t sound too alarmist, you could be doing him a huge favor. Just keep the conversation light!
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u/Caffiend · 4h
As someone who deals with chronic eye twitches (thanks, stress and caffeine), I’d probably be more embarrassed than anything if someone approached me about it. That said, I’d still rather know if it could be something serious. Maybe wait until he’s leaving, so you don’t put him on the spot in front of a crowd, but I’d say go for it. You’re NTA.
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u/LizzyBizzy · 2h
NTA! I think people overestimate how much others will be embarrassed by stuff like this. You’re coming from a place of concern, and if you’re polite and kind about it, I doubt he’ll be offended. If he is, that’s more on him than you. You’d probably regret it more if you don’t say anything and keep wondering if you should’ve.
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u/AllergicToYourDrama · 1h
Honestly? YTA. Look, I get it, you’re a med student, and you’re probably hyper-aware of stuff like this. But coming up to a stranger and telling them their eye twitch might be a medical emergency is a good way to freak someone out. He’s probably just tired or stressed. I’m not saying you should ignore it, but there’s a fine line between concern and overstepping boundaries.
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u/UnmedicatedStudent (OP) · 52m
I was worried someone might say this 😅 I don’t want to seem like I’m stepping into “know-it-all med student” territory, but yeah, it’s hard to shut off that part of my brain sometimes. I know I could be totally overreacting, and it’s probably nothing … but part of me would feel guilty if I didn’t at least mention it. Thanks for the input!
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u/PeachyKeen · 59m
NTA. I think the key is to not come across like you’re diagnosing him. Just be casual about it, like, “Hey, I’ve noticed this, and it’s probably nothing, but just in case, I thought I’d mention it.” If I were in his shoes, I’d appreciate someone saying something, especially if it’s coming from a med student who might know more than me about what to look out for.
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u/TheRealDeal · 49m
NTA. He’s probably just had too much caffeine or is stressed, but it’s nice that you’re concerned. Worst case, he thinks you’re a little awkward, but hey, that’s better than potentially missing a serious medical issue. You can’t control how he’ll react, but you’re not an AH for caring.
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u/DefinitelyNotASurgeon · 43m
NTA, but definitely approach with caution. Maybe frame it as more of a “Hey, this might be nothing, but I’m a med student, so I tend to notice stuff like this …” That way, you’re not jumping straight to “I think you’re having a stroke” but still letting him know it might be worth getting checked out.
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u/ItsNotThatDeep · 39m
YTA for even thinking it’s a stroke, lol. Just kidding! Seriously though, NTA if you do it politely.
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***
r/NoStupidQuestions
u/LordPerceval · 8h
[UPDATE] Tried learning to wink — got mistaken for having a stroke. But hey, I got a date!
So, a few days ago, I made a post here asking for tips on how to wink without looking like a malfunctioning robot. Well, I took all your advice, and I’ve been practicing … a lot. Maybe too much.
Fast forward to today: I’m at a cafe, sitting alone, just trying to sneak in some subtle winks at my reflection in the window (you know, totally normal behavior). I’m really focusing on trying to get one eye to close without the rest of my face getting involved. After what must’ve been 20 minutes of this, I notice this woman a few tables over, kind of looking at me, but I figured she was just judging my weird wink practice session.
Next thing I know, she walks over, says, “Hey, I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m a med student, and I’ve been watching your eye twitch for a while … I think you might want to see a doctor in case you’re having a stroke.” 😳
I nearly died from embarrassment right there. I had to explain that I wasn’t having a stroke, I was just trying to learn how to wink. She laughed (thankfully) and admitted it was an honest mistake, given how badly my face was contorting.
But here’s the plot twist: she’s actually gorgeous and super funny. After a bit more chatting, she gave me her number, and we’ve got a date this weekend. So, while I still can’t wink without looking like I’m in serious medical distress, I somehow managed to score a date out of it. Silver linings, right?
Thanks to everyone who gave me advice! I may not have mastered the wink, but I think things worked out anyway 😂
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u/SmoothOperator · 7h
Dude, this is the best possible outcome from this situation. Not only did you not have a stroke, but you actually got a date from it? That’s a win. Don’t even bother learning how to wink anymore — you’ve already peaked.
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u/awkwardpenguin · 7h
I AM DYING. This is hilarious. Honestly, I think this proves that failing spectacularly can sometimes be the most charming thing in the world. Good luck on the date, and please don’t try winking at her during dinner 😅
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u/theeyeguy · 6h
LMAO. As someone who’s been mistaken for having a stroke because of stress-related eye twitching, I feel this deeply. But I’ve never gotten a date out of it. Well played, my man. Well played.
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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 5h
This might be the best “I tried to wink and failed” story I’ve ever heard. Seriously though, props to her for actually coming up and saying something. It could’ve been worse — imagine if she just stared, unsure if you were in the middle of a medical emergency.
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u/TheRealMaverick · 5h
The wink failed, but your awkward charm succeeded! Honestly, I think you should lean into this. Go to the date, don’t even bother trying to wink, and just tell her the story again. If she was into it the first time, she’s probably going to love it even more when it’s an inside joke between you two.
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u/CouchPotatoSupreme · 4h
Okay, but can we just take a moment to appreciate that she approached you because she was genuinely concerned? That’s the kind of girl you want in your corner. Also, now you have the perfect “how we met” story. Future wedding speech material, just saying 😉
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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 3h
I have secondhand embarrassment but also secondhand joy for you. Sometimes life is better than any awkward wink could ever be. Good luck on the date, and hey, maybe you don’t even need to master winking anymore if you’ve already won her over.
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u/WinkFailSurvivor · 2h
This whole thing is perfect. I, too, have struggled with the dreaded “failed wink,” but I never thought it would lead to a date. I think you’re onto something here … maybe awkward winking is the new dating strategy?
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u/ActuallySocrates · 2h
Wait … so, your face-twitching efforts actually led to a potential relationship? This might be the greatest accidental rom-com moment ever. Well done. Keep us updated on how the date goes, but for the love of all that is good, don’t wink at her again unless you’ve somehow mastered it in the meantime.
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u/MedStudentCrush · 1h
As a fellow med student, I know she was probably embarrassed too after realizing you weren’t having a medical crisis. But the fact that she still gave you her number means your sense of humor (or tragic winking) really worked. You’re NAILING it, man.
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***
r/WouldIBeTheAsshole
u/UnmedicatedStudent · 7h
[UPDATE] WIBTA for telling a stranger I thought he was having a stroke because of an eye twitch? Well, now we’re going on a date.
Hey everyone! So, a few days ago I made a post asking if I would be the AH for telling a guy I thought he was having a stroke because I saw his eye twitching for like half an hour at a cafe. I’m a med student and my brain just could not ignore it. I was really worried that I might embarrass him or make things awkward if it turned out to be nothing.
Well … update time.
I actually went up to him and casually asked if he was feeling okay because I noticed the twitching. Turns out, he wasn’t having a stroke (thank god), but what he was doing was practicing winking. I’ll let that sink in. He was practicing winking at his reflection. In a cafe. For half an hour 😂
We both started laughing, and honestly, I was super relieved it wasn’t a medical emergency because I was prepared to call an ambulance or something. He explained that he’d been trying to learn how to wink for a while but couldn’t get it down, and I guess I just caught him mid-“training session.”
Here’s the fun part: after we laughed it off, we ended up chatting for a while. He’s actually really sweet and has this kind of goofy charm. I gave him my number, and now we have a date lined up for this weekend 😳
So, not only did I not make him panic about his health, but I also apparently picked the right guy to (wrongly) diagnose. I’ll keep you all posted if it leads to anything, but for now, we’re both just laughing about the most awkward way to meet someone.
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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 7h
I AM DEAD 😂 You’re telling me you went over to check on a potential medical emergency, and it turned into a rom-com meet-cute? This is the best outcome possible. Can’t wait to hear how the date goes!
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u/SmoothOperator · 6h
As the guy who gave him advice on winking in his original post, I just want to say: I feel partly responsible for this love story. I’m so glad his tragic winking attempts paid off in the end, even if it wasn’t in the way he intended.
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u/awkwardpenguin · 6h
THIS IS AMAZING. I read both your posts and now I feel like I’m watching the awkward wink romance saga unfold in real-time. You’re officially in the running for the best “how we met” story of all time 😆 Good luck on the date, and please let us know if he tries winking at you (but maybe tell him to hold off for now, lol).
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u/LizzyBizzy · 5h
Honestly, this just proves that the best way to get a date is to pretend you’re having a medical emergency 😜 But seriously, I love how this turned out. Sounds like he’s a good sport, and you’re a hero for not freaking out. Hope the date goes well!
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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 4h
Okay, I’m following this story like a serialized drama. I just read his update about you thinking he was having a stroke, and this is all too perfect. You both sound like such good sports about the whole thing, and I’m crossing my fingers that this ends up being a great first date! I’d pay to watch this rom-com, tbh.
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u/ItsNotThatDeep · 4h
So you’re telling me this guy tried to learn how to wink, failed so hard at it that it almost got him medically evaluated, and then still managed to get a date out of it? This man is living on another level of charm 😂
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u/ActuallySocrates · 3h
If you two get married, the wedding speeches are going to be incredible. “I thought he was having a stroke, turns out he was just practicing winking.” I can’t stop laughing at how absurdly perfect this situation is. You might as well stop looking, you’ve found the one.
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u/DefinitelyNotASurgeon · 3h
This might be the greatest series of posts I’ve ever seen on Reddit. First, the guy’s terrible winking attempts, now your heroic intervention that turns into a date? I’m invested in this. Please, please update us after the date. I need closure on this modern love story.
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u/CaffeineAndAnxiety · 2h
I feel like this is a public service announcement for all med students: don’t assume every eye twitch is a stroke, sometimes the guy’s just trying to wink 😂 But seriously, this is adorable and you handled it perfectly. Hope your date goes well!
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u/NoGuyNoProblem · 1h
This is amazing. The fact that you were so ready to step in and save the day, only for it to turn into this hilarious and kind of romantic story, is just too good. I really hope he doesn’t try to wink at you during the date though — that might be a dealbreaker.
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u/ChronicFailSurvivor · 1h
OMG, I just read both your post and his, and this is now my favorite Reddit love story. Please let us know how the date goes. I kind of want to see him attempt another wink, just to see how bad it still is 😆
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r/formula1
u/tifositruther · 14h
Why does Charles Leclerc’s eye always twitch when he hugs his girlfriend after a podium finish?
Okay, this has been bugging me for a while, and I’m hoping someone here can explain it because I haven’t seen anyone talk about it (or I’ve just missed it).
Whenever Charles finishes in the top 3 and goes to hug his girlfriend along the barriers where the team stands, I’ve noticed that his eye does this weird twitching thing? It’s super subtle, but it’s like a half-blink or something with one eye. It’s definitely not him just being emotional or sweaty, because it happens EVERY time. At first, I thought it was just a one-off, but now I can’t unsee it.
Is it just me, or does anyone else see this too? Is it like a weird superstition or just some involuntary thing? I’m genuinely curious, and it’s getting harder to watch his post-race celebrations without focusing on his twitchy eye.
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u/FerrariBoi · 13h
Dude, I’ve noticed this too! I always thought it was just him being super emotional or tired after a race, but now that you mention it, it really is every time he goes to hug his girlfriend. Now I can’t stop wondering what’s up with it either 😅
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u/SmoothOperator55 · 12h
I’m not 100% sure, but I think it might be some kind of superstition or inside joke between him and his girlfriend? Charles is a pretty sentimental guy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if this is some sort of cute thing they do. Or maybe he’s trying to wink and it’s just … not working?
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u/FerrariFaithful · 10h
I can’t believe I’m reading this post because I thought I was the only one who noticed that! It’s like a half-wink, half-blink, and I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s just nerves. Now I’m convinced there’s some weird Leclerc tradition we’re missing out on.
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u/NeedMoreDownforce · 9h
Honestly, I bet it’s just some post-race exhaustion thing. These guys are going flat out for nearly two hours, so I wouldn’t be surprised if his muscles just spasm a little bit after all that. But if it is some superstition, I want to know more because that would be hilarious.
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u/Charles4Prez · 6h
Oh man, I totally know what you’re talking about. I’ve noticed it every time he’s on the podium and it’s always when he hugs his girlfriend! If this is just him being tired, that would make sense, but it low-key feels like it’s some sort of wink. Either way, it’s oddly charming 😂
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u/GP2EnginePlease · 5h
LMAO, I’ve seen this too! I figured he was trying to wink but failing miserably at it because his face is always red and sweaty from the race. But if this is some kind of secret “thing” between him and his girlfriend, I’m here for it. F1 drivers and their quirks, man.
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u/Turn13Messiah · 4h
If this is a wink attempt, then Charles needs to work on his technique ASAP. But honestly, it’s probably some goofy little tradition they’ve got. Maybe he does it to signal something only they know, and we’re all just sitting here clueless 😂
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u/BoxBox · 3h
I actually love that this is a thing people are noticing. The man’s got the whole F1 world watching, but he’s still trying to pull off a wink at his girlfriend like a regular guy. If it’s a superstition, I fully support it. Leclerc always seems like the type to have little rituals.
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u/ZoomingAlong · 1h
I’ve never noticed this before, but now I need to go back and rewatch some podiums to see it for myself 😂 If it’s a wink, it’s not very good, but knowing Charles, it’s probably something personal and cute between them. Wouldn’t surprise me if it’s intentional!
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u/YellowFlagged · 53m
It has to be some sort of in-joke between him and his girlfriend. F1 drivers are superstitious, and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen drivers have quirky little habits. Maybe it’s his way of “winking” after a good race, but he’s just too drained to pull it off properly.
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u/MegaDRS · 46m
Guys, I just went back and watched some old races, and yep, it’s there 😂 I never noticed it before, but now I’m convinced this is an awkward wink. Charles probably thinks he’s being smooth, but we’re all seeing that twitch. I’m officially obsessed with this now.
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u/ILoveMonaco · 32m
Can someone please just ask him in an interview at this point? I need answers. If it’s some cute tradition between him and his girlfriend, I’ll be even more of a Charles fan than I already am.
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***
“Charles, did you know you’re going viral on social media?”
The question hits him in the middle of media day. Charles Leclerc blinks once, twice, and tilts his head. He’s sitting in the usual F1 press conference setup — microphones lined up, lights a little too bright, cameras flashing constantly —but this question isn’t the usual stuff about strategy or the upcoming race.
He shifts in his seat, the corners of his lips tugging into an uncertain smile. “No, I … I didn’t know that.” He furrows his brows, clearly puzzled. “Why? What did I do this time?”
The reporter grins, clearly enjoying Charles’ confusion. “It’s not something you did during the race. It’s what happens after.”
Charles’ smile falters slightly, but his curiosity grows. “After? What do you mean?”
The reporter leans forward, resting his hands on his lap. “It’s your eye. You’ve been going viral for this thing your eye does after you finish on the podium. People are calling it ‘the Charles Leclerc twitch.’”
Charles’ face drops for a split second before he laughs, the sound awkward, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve seen some things about it.”
“You have?” The reporter raises an eyebrow, surprised. “People are saying it’s because you’re tired or emotional after races.”
Charles scratches his head, feeling the blush creep up his neck. “No, no … it’s not that.”
“What is it then? Do you even know you’re doing it?”
Charles is biting his lip now, looking down at the mic in front of him like it might save him. He doesn’t want to explain this, not here, not now, but the entire press room is silent, waiting for his response. He glances up and spots you standing at the back of the room, arms crossed, a small smile playing on your lips. You’ve definitely overheard the whole thing.
With a sigh, he finally says, “Okay, well … it’s not really a twitch. I’m actually, uh …” He rubs his palms on his thighs nervously. “I’m trying to wink.”
Laughter ripples through the room, but the reporter’s face lights up, not letting this go. “Wink? At who?”
Charles’ blush deepens, and he chuckles, glancing down again before meeting the reporter’s eyes. “At my girlfriend. After I finish on the podium.”
There’s a collective murmur of interest now, and Charles is laughing, embarrassed. He shifts his weight in the chair, clearly flustered.
“Wait, you’re winking at your girlfriend?” Another reporter chimes in, curious but amused. “Why after the podium?”
Charles glances back at you standing at the rear of the room. You smile at him, and he seems to relax, even though his ears are definitely burning red. He lets out another small laugh. “Okay, so this is kind of … a long story.”
The room leans in.
“It started a few months ago,” Charles begins, exhaling as if trying to gather the words. “I was sitting in a cafe, practicing how to wink-”
“Practicing?” The first reporter cuts in, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, practicing. I’ve never been good at it.” He laughs, but it’s clear he’s a little embarrassed about admitting this in front of a full room. “And while I was doing it, she-” he nods toward you, “comes up to me and asks if I’m okay. She’s a medical student, and apparently, my attempt at winking looked so bad that she thought I was having a stroke.”
The room bursts into laughter, and even Charles can’t help but crack up at the absurdity of the story. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at you again, his eyes softening. “Yeah, so she came over, all serious, genuinely concerned about me.”
You can’t help but laugh along with the reporters. You catch Charles’ eye, and he gives you a small, sheepish smile. The reporters are now fully invested, waiting for him to continue.
“So, I had to explain to her that I was just trying to figure out how to wink,” Charles continues, the redness in his face only deepening. “It was embarrassing, but we ended up talking for a while after that. And, uh … long story short, I got her number, and now we’re together.”
“That’s … actually adorable,” one of the female reporters says, and Charles chuckles again.
“But the winking thing — it became kind of our little tradition,” he explains, sitting forward slightly. “After every podium, I try to wink at her when I go to hug her at the barriers. It’s a way for me to say, like, ’we made it’ or something. It’s just this thing we’ve kept going.”
The room is silent for a moment, absorbing the story, before the questions start coming in again.
“So wait,” one of the reporters asks, his grin wide, “you’re telling me that this whole viral thing is because you’re trying to wink at your girlfriend after every race?”
Charles nods, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, but apparently I’m still really bad at it.”
“You don’t say,” someone mutters, and more laughter breaks out.
“And she knows this is a thing?” Another asks, glancing toward you.
Charles’ eyes are on you again. “Yeah, she knows. She tries not to laugh every time I do it. But, you know, we’ve kept it going. It’s like a small inside joke between us.”
The first reporter raises his hand again. “Do you think you’ll ever actually learn how to wink properly?”
Charles grins, shaking his head. “Probably not. I mean, I’ve had months to practice, and this is the best I’ve got.”
The press room breaks into chuckles, and Charles sits back, clearly more relaxed now that the story is out in the open. He takes a sip of water and glances up at the cameras.
“You got the girl,” the reporter adds with a grin.
“Yeah,” Charles agrees, looking at you with a warmth that softens his voice. “I got the girl.”
The room starts buzzing again, the other reporters already moving on to different questions about the upcoming race weekend, but Charles steals one last glance at you. You’re still smiling, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he shoots you a quick wink — or well, tries to.
And of course, his eye twitches awkwardly, but this time, he doesn’t mind.
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DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.
Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.
And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:
Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.
Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.
Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.
Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…
~~~~~
Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.
~~~~
Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…
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halfgirl-halfdolll · 7 days ago
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Extremely self-indulgent. For the neurodivergent girlies. English isn't my first language, so my apologies for any mistake. I also have no idea how to write a Scottish accent 🧘🏻‍♀️ bear with me
You knocked on the dark hardwood door as you've had done plenty of times before.
It has been almost six months since you've signed that contract. That one, the one where you forfeited 4 years of your life in exchange for stable wages and proper housing.
For someone with no life, no family and no friends (besides the online weirdos you'd talk to from time to time), that was kinda good, if you could say so yourself.
You had stability, even though it came with the cost of being tied down to a military base chock-full of people who didn't really understand you.
That was fine though. THAT, you were used to. It comes with the neurodivergence: the side eyes, the whispers and the isolation.
What you weren't used to, however, was how your heart would race like a rabbit on a run for its life whenever you knocked on that one door. And you had to knock on it quite a lot of times.
You rapped your knuckles against the hardwood once more when you got no reply, cracking the door open just a little bit to peek inside.
"Cap?" You said, voice almost a whisper. After a few seconds, you heard an answer.
"Come in, love. Didn't know it was you." A strong, booming voice came from inside and you swallowed the lump on your throat that always formed whenever you had to go to Price's office.
Not because you were afraid of him, no. On the contrary. Maybe Price and the rest of the task force were the only ones who didn't treat you like an aberration – probably because they were aberrations of their own merit.
Maybe it was stupid of you to get giddy over being treated well by some of your coworkers, but when the bare minimum was so rare, you latched onto it like a dog with a bone.
And in spite of yourself, you couldn't control your own heart. It would be racing like a schoolgirl with a crush whenever you went to visit any of the men from the task force. You gave up on trying to tame it.
"Hi Cap" you said, with a small smile, approaching his desk. On the corner of your eyes, you saw the other three burly men that made up 141 and waved.
"Hey, lass, good ta see ya!" Soap hollered, voice loud as ever. You could probably feel it vibrating inside your bones if he spoke for a little longer and you loved it; as much as you envied it. What wouldn't you do to be just a little bit outgoing like that? Maybe things would be just a tad easier.
"How can I help my favorite secretary?" Price asked, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, crow's feet getting a lot more pronounced in a way you probably thought of more than you should.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
"I'm your only secretary."
"Doesn't make my statement any less true."
You shook your head and placed a manila folder in front of him.
"I need your autograph, Cap."
"What for?"
"Because I'm your biggest fan and I wanna put it on my refrigerator...?" You answered humorously, and Price raised an eyebrow. You sighed. "We need to authorize the training of a few new recruits and they need your approval. So I need you to sign it."
Price huffed out a low chuckle and began leafing through the needlessly thick document. You poked your finger into the folder, fishing out the last pages, and walked towards the other men sitting on the other side of the office.
"I like today's dress, love." Gaz was manspreading on one of Price's armchairs, head resting on his palm as he gave you an once over. If it were anyone else, you'd probably hate the way you were being perceived – it usually made you feel like a bug being watched through a magnifying glass. But under his gaze, you just felt like a doll being admired.
"Do you, now? It's one of my favorites." You bowed dramatically while holding the hem of the dress. It was just another one of the black frilly dresses that you wore like a signature. It flew around you as you spun on your feet to show the black ribbon on the back.
"Adorable as always. If I wasn't selfish, I would say it's wasted inside this base, but I like to have you around way too much." His eyes gleamed with mirth and, in any other situation, you'd think he was secretly mocking you – but not Kyle. Not any one of them. You knew the compliments were genuine, even if they didn't understand why you insisted on sticking out like a sore thumb when it brought you so many problems.
You knew they would never really understand how masking could hurt you, but you were grateful they still defended your decision on just being yourself.
"Look at tha' key on yer neck." Soap pointed at your necklace. "I ken what's tha' for. It's the key to my heart, aye?" He said with an exaggerated wink and a smile that could blind you.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." You rolled your eyes, smiling, and pushed a paper into his hand and did the same with Gaz and Ghost.
"I need your autographs as well. You heard my explanation already."
" 'm not built for a life of fame, love." Simon grunted, shifting on his seat right beside Soap.
"Too late, the spotlight already found you. Now you gotta give me your autograph or I'm gonna cancel you on social media."
He huffed.
"Don't ya think I should have been canceled a long time ago?"
"Probably." You shrugged, and handed him a pen. "I like my favorites problematic, what can I say."
Soap barked out a laugh, mindlessly scanning the document and Ghost merely shook his head.
"Do I gotta sign this? Don't really feel like training new runts." The masked man muttered and you shrugged.
"Don't shoot the messenger. I don't really want new young men around me either." You walked back towards Price's desk after collecting the documents and placed them neatly inside the folder after he was done surveying every single fine print.
"What do you guys want for lunch?" You asked as you tucked the documents under your arm. Price clicked his tongue.
"You don't have to keep bothering with making food for us, love. We can all eat at the canteen like everyone else." The older man leaned back on his chair, folding his arms.
You looked to the side, with a small pout on your lips.
"But if I make you guys' lunch, then I can emotionally blackmail you into eating with me at the kitchen." You mumbled, avoiding any and all eye contact.
"So it was all a ploy to keep us nearby? I thought you were doing that because you liked us. I'm so hurt, dear." Kyle spoke up from his seat, a dramatic hand over his chest as he leaned his head back. You put a hand over your mouth, hiding your grin.
"Maybe I'm just learning a thing or two from hanging around tacticians?"
"Aw, Captain, come on. How can we leave the poor doll hangin'? And we get ta eat actually good food, not that canteen slop! Come on!"
Price sighed, shaking his head in defeat.
"Anything you make will be great, love."
"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Ghost added from his seat and you snickered. He had already seen you eating your comfort foods before and, needless to say, he didn't approve of them.
"As long as it has proteins and carbs." Price repeated, with a nod.
"Proteins and carbs, okay, got it." You said with a fierce nod, walking back towards the door to the older man's office. "Meet you guys at the kitchen?"
"1200, sharp." Price said, with eyes as soft as the smile under his moustache. You gave him a small salute on your way out.
"Yessir."
This will probably be a little anthology of scenes I think of, involving poly!141 x neurodivergent reader who works for them as a secretary. They might not have much continuity but I'm using this as a self-healing, self-indulgent blog, separated from my main. Expect mostly fluff and angst from me.
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timkontheunsure · 7 months ago
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Queer secondary adolescence and Stolas
(I keep forgetting to put this up here)
Ok, so Stolas being teen dad is one of the reasons I get annoyed when people say he's too horny with Blitz. Or that his relationship is too dramatic and teenager-y.
He's a queer guy who never got to be a teenager, didn't get to have a first boyfriend, or explore who he was. Or do any of the normal stuff most straight teenagers get to do.
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His family stuffed him in the closet, forced him to have child, and gave him an abusive wife as jailer.
(He around 36, with a 17 year old daughter. 36−17=19 when Octavia was born. Likely married at 18).
He's got some chatting up to do.
Up till now his whole life's been about Via, and mitigating Stella's abuse to hid it from Via.
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That's left him barely hanging on, taking an increasing amount of antidepressants; and singing lullabies about not being sure he'll make it till Via's grown up.... 🙁
youtube
There's this thing called second adolescence that alot of queer people experience, when they come out later in life.
It happens when they're weren't allowed to do normal teenage things at the right age. So things like having crushes, go on first dates, have extremely anxious dramatic relationships. As well just be a normal horny teenager.
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Stolas got to do none of that. So he's doing it now.
He's also pretty obviously an autistic guy (separate post ), who didn't get well socialized as a child.
Blitz appears to have been his first and only really friend.
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Stolas is not great at social cues. (He's so happy to be able to help with his special interest, but does realise his tone is upsetting Ozzie).
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Even with Via he struggles to understand her. She needs to tell her dad flat out what she needs.
When she tries to be subtle, and snark he assumes it's just her being a moody teen. And that she'll enjoy loo loo land when she loosen up a bit.
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Because of this lack Stolas mostly fills in gaps in his social experience with masking.
Such copying Gabriel hairstyle from helluva novella to get ready for his first ever date.
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Following Blitz's lead of what to do in an uncomfortable situation.
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And trying to match the energy of how Blitz first came on to him.
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(He's definitely getting better at it from Blitz reaction).
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There's also an idea in CBT called reparenting your inner child. Which about giving yourself some the support, and experiences you missed out on because of abuse.
Stolas needs to go through his secondary adolescence as part of his recovery from his abuse.
So let Stolas be a little horny weirdo. 😛
PS this one will brake you heart. Stolas is standing fully in both these pictures.
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You can see how much he's grown by her light switch.
Kid hasn't even reached his full adult height yet when he had to have a kid.
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queenie-the-court-jester · 9 months ago
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Just a silly question but how will cotton react when he saw or knew that y/n REALLY love to eat rabbits and have a weird obsession for eating them? Like. Is he gonna be terrified or he gonna be like "stay away from my child but I still love U tho"
-(I wanna be the 🦖 anon please and yes the ask earlier where I quack was me too )
Cotton x carnivore!darling
Tw: minor body horror, cannibalism, reader can be another hybrid or human, cotton being cotton, blood mentioned. Not proofread 🌺
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🔪he knew there was something wrong with you. From the moment you took him in and nursed him to health. To the way your hands glided over his abdomen and raked down his thighs. Your eyes staring hungrily at his throat. He saw the red flags, but he ignored them, because you made him feel something he thought he hated. Fear. Adrenaline.
🔪when you reluctantly let him go, he begged to stay. He knew he wasn't much of a meal but won't you give him a chance? He'll gladly let you tear open his chest and claw out his intestines. How would you eat him? Raw and fresh? Or cooked and seasoned? The thought excited him beyond belief!
🔪when you had your first litter of children, he quite literally had to pry them from your hold. He loved you but he couldn't risk you eating your newborns. So for the first few months he raised them himself from a distance. The only way he'd let you near them would be if he was close by and had a sedative in hand.
🔪 while quickly becoming a prisoner in your own home, Your shorter than average husband was constantly breathing down your neck, his gaze never leaving your form. And with the help of your offspring, life got even more suffocating. You loved your children, you really did. But you could never really get rid of that little itch in your mouth begging to sink into some meat. When was the last time you had it? You were starving.. you didn't want to eat vegetables anymore..
🔪one night you went missing. How the hell did you break out of the chains he found. He felt his heart stop and scrambled out of your bed. Ears moving around to try and catch any noise. Quickly rushing to the children's rooms, he relaxed in seeing them all safe and sound. Until he heard something from outside. Grabbing the dart gun from his bedside, he stepped out slowly. Following the smell of blood and cracking of what sounded like bones. Going Deeper into the forest...
🔪and there you were. Crouched over the bodies of what seemed like a deer hybrid family. You didn't seem to notice him, happily chewing and tearing at the flesh underneath you. Blood spewing out onto the dirt floor, he swore he could see a little twitch from the mother's hand. Their bones bent in unnatural places and the gashes on their bodies lethal. He slowly approached, standing over you
"there you are.. where have you gone..? you had me so worried honey..."
🔪 you simply stared up at him, licking your bloody lips and dropping the arm you were chewing on. He could feel himself get hard at the sight. Weirdo. Ignoring the corpses next to him, he set down his gun and kissed you softly. Wiping the rest of the blood off you with his shirt. He learns quickly that once you've eaten meat, you don't need to eat it for a good while. Expect him to hunt down his fellow hybrids for you in the near future. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he kept neglecting your needs?
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youreverydayfangirl · 20 days ago
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You Are In Love
pairing: lando norris x fretwell! reader
summary: y/n y/ln has finally moved on from lando norris, or in which lando tries everything he can do to get his girl back
warning: angsty tbh, but has fluff in the end
a/n: after agessss!!! its all set in 2024
part 1 is here
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"You know what I'm so done with you. Of course you want me now, I'm trying to get over you Lando, I need to get over you." She said, her voice breaking a little. He wanted to grab her, hold her, apologise.
"What if I don't want you to." He said.
She completely stepped back, tears in her eyes.
"Fuck you Lando Norris."
Y/n didn't know how it happened, how quickly love could turn into indifference. Hate was one thing. Indifference was another thing completely. It meant that hearing his name wouldn't spark a reaction from her, seeing his face didn't make her heart skip a beat. She had loved Lando since she was fifteen, but at some point you have to give up, say goodbye. Because she'd rather feel nothing that still love him.
--------------------------
2024, February
yourusername has posted
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liked by landonorris, maxfretwell and 2, 395, 039 others
yourusername GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS
tagged: yourbsfusername
yourbsfusername WE LOOK SO GOOD
-> yourusername yeah we do don't we
lilymhe GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS
→ yourusername GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS
francisca.cgomes Y/N WORLD TAKEOVER
-> yourusername ofc
maxfretwell EW ITS YOU
-> yourusername get out of my comments weirdo
user1 lando in the likes again
-> user2 be so real when is he not snooping
user3 she looks so much healthier
-> user4 right this y/n era>>>
---------------
Y/n groaned at the insistent ringing of her phone, pulling her from a very nice nap. "What do you want idiot?" She snapped at her brother, whose face had popped up on her phone.
"Good morning to you sleeping beauty." He said, laughing at his younger sister.
"Is there a reason you're calling me at-" Y/n squinted at the time on her screen, "-3 in the afternoon?" She rubbed her eyes, not yet fully awake.
Her brother laughed on the other end. "I needed to remind you of our plans tonight. Or did you forget already?"
Y/n huffed, pushing herself up against the pillows. "Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting a wake up call," she grumbled.
"Right, right. Well, don’t fall asleep again; we’re leaving in an hour," he teased.
As soon as he hung up Y/n groaned and shoved her head back into the comfort of her soft pillows.
She met Max at a small restaurant tucked away on a quiet street, where he was waiting at a corner booth, already nursing a beer. "Hey, stranger," he greeted her with a warm hug.
"Hey yourself," she laughed, sliding in across from him. "This place is cute."
“Only the best for my very picky little sister.” Max smirked, but his expression softened as he looked at her. “So, how’s everything going? Really.”
Y/n shrugged, giving a small smile. “Pretty good. Busy, you know. I've just been focusing on working on myself and staying sober, Bsf has helped out alot with that."
Max nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “And are you… happy?”
The question caught her off guard, and she hesitated, glancing away before looking back at him. “I mean… yeah. Things have been pretty good recently”
Max studied her for a moment, his gaze knowing. “But?”
“But…” she paused, pushing the menu away and sighing. “I don’t know, Max. Sometimes it feels like… like there’s something missing. You know? Like something’s still holding me back.”
Max leaned back, watching her carefully. “Lando?”
She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “I thought I was done with that. After everything last year, I told myself I couldn’t keep holding onto him. He never even tried to reach out after everything that happened like come on. I've moved on now."
“Maybe he just thought you didn’t want him to reach out,” Max suggested gently. “You left pretty quickly.”
She stared down at her hands, fiddling with the edge of a napkin. “Yeah, but I couldn’t stay. After hearing him say… all that, after everything we went through, I didn’t know what else to do but leave.”
Max nodded, thinking for a moment before he spoke. “Look, I’m not saying you should do anything you’re not ready for, but I’ve known Lando for a long time. He’s got his faults, but I think he’s just as messed up over you as you are over him. I think he’s been struggling with it since the day you left.”
She felt a pang in her chest, memories of Lando flashing through her mind. “I don’t know, Max. It’s been a year, and I’ve tried so hard to let go.”
Max reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And maybe you have. But maybe… maybe there’s a part of you that needs to hear him out before you can really move forward.”
She gave him a small, grateful smile, though her heart felt heavy. “I’ll think about it, Max. I really will. But for now… let’s just have a good night, okay?”
Later, when she got home, she found herself replaying Max’s words.
What if I don’t want you to?
Lando’s voice from that night echoed painfully in her mind. She’d loved him once, but now… she didn’t know what she felt.
--------------------
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yourusername the city that keeps the roof blazing
tagged: alexandrasaintmleux
francisca.cgomes i need you at more plssss
-> yourusername i'll see how i can manage
lilymhe i missed your cute face
→ yourusername I MISSED YOURS
maxfretwell since when were you here?
-> yourusername idk 🤷
alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍
-> yourusername LEO WAS SO CUTE
user1 Y/NLANDO CONTENT PLEASE 🙏
user2 OMG SHES AT A GPPPPPP
user3 grabbing at scraps atp
user4 LANDO WIN?
-> user5 i mean shes his lucky charm so..
---------------------------
The atmosphere was electric as Y/n made her way across the paddock. It had been so long yet felt as though no time had past since her last race. She kept her head low, hidden under one of Landos old caps he had given her as she found Max and stood next to him. The pair watching the chaos of the grid unfold in silence. Y/n couldn't help but have her eyes drawn to where Lando was standing, he looked good. Max cleared his throat and she diverted her gaze quickly.
Then, as if he could sense her presence, Lando turned around eyes darting until they locked onto her figure. His eyes soften, full of many emotions and it seemed as though all the tension that was built up in him disappeared.
"Lando." Someone calls and then the moment ends, as quickly as it had started. As he made his way over to his car, Y/n forced her gaze away, a feeling of longing and heartache in her chest.
Y/ns heart swells with pride as she watches Lando claim victory. A bright smile appears on her face and she claps her hands together, before stopping herself. As the team rushes to greet Lando, she watches him bask in the glory of his win, a grin stretching across his face as he’s showered in cheers and applause.
When he steps off the podium, champagne soaked and still radiant with exhilaration, their eyes met across the crowd once again. This time, theres an unspoken acknowledgment, a silent thank you really, for being there, even if it is in the background.
As she turned to leave, Y/ns head was reeling, feeling both pride and bittersweetness. Today wasn't just a victory for him, but a quiet triumph for Y/n too.
----------------
yourusername
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yourusername gala tonight
francisca.cgomes HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT
-> yourusernameI LOVE YOU
maxfretwell you look like shit
-> yourusername i hate you so much
alexandrasaintmleux YOUR GORGEOUS MY LOV
-> yourusername AHHHHHHHHHHH
landonorris you look great
user1 LANDO COMMENTED OMFGGG
user2 MOOD: FREAKING OUT
user3 EATING UP ALL THE CRUMBS
-------------
The room glittered under the chandelier, polite chatter filling the room. Y/n smoothed down the fabric of her gown, trying to focus on anything but the pair of familiar blue eyes watching her from across the room. Lando looked devastatingly handsome in his tailored black tuxedo, his tie slightly loosened as if he’d already grown restless.
She spent the night avoiding him, moving between conversations and photos, but she could still feel his gaze heavy on her. Y/n found herself lost in thought as she took a sip from her champagne.
“May I have this dance?” His voice startled her, smooth and familiar as he appeared at her side.
Y/n hesitated, her champagne flute trembling slightly in her hand. “Lando…”
“Please, Y/n,” he whispered, his tone softer now, begging almost. “Just one dance.”
Against her better judgment, she nodded. He led her to the dance floor, his hand warm and firm against the small of her back. The music was slow, Y/n smiled at the familiar sound of Taylor Swift and found herself relaxing a little bit.
“Why are you here?” she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the music.
“Because you are,” Lando replied, his eyes locked on hers. “And because I can’t keep pretending I don’t care anymore.”
Her breath caught, and for a moment, all the noise and chaos of the gala faded away. They were just Y/n and Lando, two people who had shared too much history to be strangers but too much heartbreak to find their footing again.
“I—” she started, but her words were lost as Lando’s hand tightened slightly on her waist, pulling her closer.
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it,” he murmured, his forehead nearly brushing hers.
Y/n swallowed hard. She felt it, of course she did, the way her heart raced, the way his touch ignited every nerve in her body. But it was complicated. It was always complicated.
As the song swelled, his lips hovered dangerously close to hers. She tilted her head slightly, her body betraying her better judgment, and for one reckless, fleeting moment, she thought she might give in.
“Y/n! Lando!” A sharp voice cut through the haze, and they jerked apart as Pierre's familiar face appeared.
Y/n stepped back abruptly, the spell broken. “I...I can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice trembling as she turned on her heel and walked away.
Lando stood frozen on the dance floor, watching her retreat into the crowd, his heart sinking as he realized she wasn’t ready to let him in. Not yet.
---------------------
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yourusername paris ✅ where to next?
alexandrasaintmleux monaco?
-> yourusername i think we can figure something out
maxfretwell come home?
-> yourusername aww you miss me???
-> maxfretwell no i miss your cooking
landonorris was it fun??
-> user1 HELP NORIZZ STRIKES AGAIN
-> user2 hes so awkward HELP
--------------
The buzz of her phone jolted Y/n from her daze. She reached for it, her fingers trembling ever so lightly when she saw the name flashing on the screen.
Lando Norris.
She hesitated. It had been months since the gala in Miami, and wounds from the past were still fresh. Yet, she was compelled to swipe and answer, whether it was out of curiosity or something deeper.
“Hello?”
“Y/n.” His voice was softer than she expected, tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. “Hey.”
“Lando,” she said cautiously. “What’s going on?”
There was a beat of silence before he exhaled sharply. “I...uh, I had a rough race today,” he admitted, his vulnerability catching her off guard. “And I just… I don’t know. I thought of you.”
Her heart twisted at his honesty, but she forced herself to keep her tone steady. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly, though the strain in his voice betrayed him. “It’s just… you always knew how to make things feel less heavy, you know? I miss that.”
Y/n swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. The conversation teetered on dangerous ground, pulling at memories she wasn’t ready to confront.
“Look,” he continued, breaking the silence. “I know things between us are… complicated. But the British Grand Prix is next weekend, and it’s a big deal for me. I’d really like it if you came.”
Her breath hitched. “Lando…”
“No pressure,” he added quickly, sensing her hesitation. “I just thought… maybe it could be a step. A chance to figure things out. Or even just to see each other without… everything else in the way.”
Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling in her chest. She wanted to say no, to protect herself from the whirlwind he always seemed to bring into her life. But a part of her - a small, stubborn part - wanted to see him again, to believe that maybe this time could be different.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
The relief in his voice was palpable. “Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot. Really.”
------------------
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yourusername a quick pit stop in silverstone
francisca.cgomes WIFEY IN THE PADDOCK
-> yourusername you know it
alexandrasaintmleux papaya has always been your colour
-> yourusername 🧡🧡
landonorris it was nice to see you today y/n.
-> yourusername great to see you too Lando!!!
-> charlesleclerc WHATTTTT
-> user1 bros as flabbergasted as the rest of us
user2 maybe he's not lando norizz afterall
--------------
Once again, Y/n found herself walking through the paddock, unconsciously smiling at the familiarity of it all.
She found him leaning against the McLaren hospitality building, his race suit tied around his waist, his hair disheveled from the helmet. He looked like the Lando she used to know—soft, nervous, and so heartbreakingly familiar.
“Hey,” he said, straightening when he saw her.
“Hey,” she replied, her voice careful, guarded.
“Can we talk?” he asked, motioning toward a quieter area behind the building. She hesitated, but nodded, following him.
They stopped near a secluded spot overlooking the track, the distant roar of engines filling the silence between them. Lando turned to her, his eyes searching hers for some semblance of forgiveness.
“I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “For years, I’ve been an idiot. I didn’t know what I had with you until I lost it.”
Y/n crossed her arms, trying to keep her composure. “Lando…”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his tone desperate. “I was scared. I thought if I kept things as they were, I wouldn’t mess it up. But I messed it up anyway. I pushed you away, and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/n. For everything.”
She looked at him, her walls slowly crumbling as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You really hurt me, Lando. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I wasn’t worth fighting for.”
He stepped closer, his voice trembling. “You were always worth fighting for. I just didn’t realize how much until it was too late. I don’t want it to be too late anymore.”
Y/n felt tears prick at her eyes. She hated how much she still cared, how much she wanted to believe him. “Why now? Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you,” he said simply. “Every race, every win, every moment, I think about you. I want you in my life, Y/n. However you’ll let me.”
Silence stretched between them as she looked away, her emotions warring within her. Finally, she let out a shaky breath. “Lando… I don’t know if it’s that easy. There’s so much history between us, so much pain.”
“I know,” he said softly. “But maybe we can start over. Take things slow. Just… let me prove to you that I’m serious this time.”
Y/n hesitated, then nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Okay. But I need time.”
Lando’s face lit up with a cautious, hopeful smile. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
--------
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yourusername some flics from summer
tagged: francisca.c.gomes
francisca.cgomes OMG STUNNER
-> yourusername SAYSS YOUUUUU
alexandrasaintmleux gorgg gorgg gorggg
-> yourusername try looking in a mirror
yourbsf my fav girll
-> yourusername love love love youuuuu
user1 THE SOFT LAUNCH
user2 no lando comment i fear we're doomed
user3 landoy/n truthers how are we feeling
-> user4 NOT GREAT.....
---------
Y/n wasn't sure how it had really begun, but after Silverstone her and Lando found themselves spending more and more time together, their friendship quickly turning to more.
One Saturday afternoon they found themselves walking down to the beach. Once they reached the destination, the pair collapsed, out of breath from running around like total idiots.
Lando nudged her with his shoulder. “Remember when we used to do this when we were younger? You were always faster than me, but I swear I was the better strategist.”
Y/n laughed softly, leaning into him. “You’re right, you did always find a way to cheat your way to victory.”
Lando pretended to look offended. “Cheat? I was simply using my superior intellect to my advantage.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Sure, Lan. Keep telling yourself that.”
One evening, they decided to take a road trip up the coast. They didn't make any exact plans, just wanted to drive. The windows were down, the cool air rushing in as their music played through the car speakers. The pair decided to stop to watch the sunset, Lando using his camera to take photos of the sunset. Y/n stood next to him, watching the colours change across the sky.
"The view is amazing." Y/n said, smiling softly as she watched the sun disappear further and further into the water.
"It really is." Lando murmured, taking in the way Y/ns face was illuminated by the sunset, making her look angelic. Y/n turned to see him already staring and couldn't help but feel herself blush under hist intense gaze.
“Thank you for this,” Y/n said softly, her voice carrying the weight of all the unspoken words. “For showing up when I needed you most.”
Lando lowered the camera, his hand gently brushing against hers. “I’m not going anywhere this time, Y/n. I’m here for as long as you’ll let me be.”
-----------------
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yourusername back in Spa
tagged: francisca.cgomes
francisca.cgomes its honestly unfair for you to be that gorgeous
-> yourusername STAWP IT
maxfretwell nothing just you staking me
-> yourusername stalking is WILD
user1 no lando like or anything :(
user2 in the trenches right now
-----------------
Y/n had always loved Spa, it was the first grand prix she ever attended, but today, something felt off. Whatever it was, it was making her anxious, causing her to pull back from Lando more than she would have liked.
It started when Lando and her arrived at the track. Lando was excited, practically bouncing with energy and had started rambling excitedly. Y/n however was feeling closed off, distant, something which Lando noticed immediately. He knew how to read Y/n, so he could tell when she wasn't herself. When they walked together toward the paddock, the silence between them grew heavier with every step.
"Y/n, what’s going on?" Lando asked, his voice laced with concern as they stopped by the track’s edge. She hesitated for a moment, looking out at the cars zooming by. Her mind was racing, filled with doubts she didn’t know how to articulate.
“I just… I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This, us, it feels like it’s moving too fast. I’m not sure I can keep up with it anymore.”
Lando’s brows furrowed, and his heart sank. “What do you mean? I thought we were-”
“I don’t know what I thought,” she interrupted, turning away slightly. “It feels like we’re stuck in the same cycle, and every time I think we’ve moved forward, we just fall back into the same old pattern. It’s like… like I’m always waiting for the next mistake.” She rubbed her eyes, feeling the weight of her frustration.
Lando opened his mouth to respond, but Y/n shook her head, cutting him off. "I don’t want to fight, Lando, but I just need some space to figure things out."
His chest tightened as he watched her, her words cutting deeper than he expected. He couldn't say he was completely surprised though, the uncertainty which had haunted them before now seemed to pull them apart all over again.
“Y/n… Please. Don’t shut me out.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, but Y/n could hear the vulnerability in it.
She looked at him, a conflicted expression on her face. She wanted to reach out, wanted to say that everything would be okay, but the doubt swirling inside her made it hard. "I just need some time, Lando," she said quietly. "I need to think."
With that, she turned away, walking towards the paddock, leaving Lando standing there, his heart heavy. He didn’t know what to do or how to fix it. This time, it felt like they were both on the edge of something, and if they didn’t take a step back, they might both fall.
The rest of the weekend was a blur. Y/n kept her distance from Lando, spending most of the time with Alex and Kika and staying away from the constant tension in the air. The moment that should have been about racing and the thrill of competition was now overshadowed by the uncertainty hanging between them.
For Lando, the race itself was a blur. His thoughts kept drifting to Y/n, wondering if he had pushed too hard, said the wrong thing. He knew he had to respect her space, but the silence between them hurt more than he expected.
By the time the race weekend ended, both of them were left feeling raw and uncertain. Y/n was overwhelmed, caught between her fear of falling into the same patterns and her desire to be with him. And Lando? He was left to wonder if it was too late, if the distance between them now was one they couldn’t bridge.
It wasn’t the end, but it sure felt like one, one that left both of them wondering where they went wrong.
---------------
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yourusername its been a good day :)
lilymhe care to explain further??
-> yourusername call and ill tell you gorg girl
-> user1 what i'd give to know what they talk about
maxfretwell nah you're doing too much
-> yourusername can you stop stalking my feed for once
francisca.cgomes motherrrrr
-> yourusername STOPPPP
-> user2 and father?????
user3 i love how none of them have even acknowledged the fact that their is a man there
user4 call me crazy but i feel like that might be lando??
-> user5 i fear youre on your own with that one
----------------
It was late August, and Y/n found her self on vacation in Italy, trying to catch her breath after the whirlwind of the past couple of months. The tension with Lando at Spa still lingered in her mind, making her question everything. She wanted to move forward, but fear kept holding her back. She didn’t know if Lando could truly understand what she needed, or if she could even put it into words.
As Y/n was bed rotting in her hotel, her phone dinged with a message from Lily.
Hey, I need a favor! Can you meet me at the marina? 3 PM sharp. Promise it’ll be worth it.
Y/n hesitated, glancing at the time. She didn’t have much planned for the day and figured a distraction might be good for her. "Alright, why not?" she muttered, grabbing her bag and heading out.
When she arrived, Lily was nowhere to be found. Instead, she was greeted by a deckhand who handed her a note with Lando’s unmistakable scrawl.
Come aboard, love. Let me show you something.
Y/n sighed, suspicion and curiosity warring in her chest. She debated turning around but, against her better judgment, stepped onto the yacht.
The moment she was aboard, the crew set the yacht into motion, gliding smoothly out into the glittering blue waters of the Mediterranean. Y/n frowned, looking around for any sign of Lando.
“Seriously, Lando?” she muttered under her breath.
It wasn’t until the yacht had anchored near a quiet, secluded cove that he appeared, stepping onto the deck with an almost sheepish smile.
“Hey,” he said softly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
“Lando…” she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“Before you say anything, just… let me talk.” He gestured for her to sit, and she reluctantly did, watching as he fidgeted nervously before taking a seat across from her.
“Y/n, I know I’ve messed up. I know I’ve hurt you, more than once. But I also know I don’t want to lose you again. Not now, not ever.” His voice was steady, but she could see the raw emotion in his eyes.
“Lando, it’s not that simple,” she replied, her voice quieter than she expected.
“I know it’s not,” he said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “That’s why I wanted to do this. To show you that I’m serious. That I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”
She glanced around, taking in the serene beauty of the cove, the gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of the yacht, the soft music playing in the background. It was a scene straight out of a dream, but it was also so Lando - grand, romantic, and slightly over the top.
“Lily was in on this, wasn’t she?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Guilty,” he admitted with a small laugh. “I needed backup to make sure you actually showed up.”
Y/n smiled at this, stifling a laugh.
“Look, Y/n, I know I can’t erase the past. But I want to build a future with you - a real one. No games, no misunderstandings, no half measures. Just us, figuring it out together.”
The sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. She wanted to believe him, to trust that this time would be different.
“I don’t know, Lando,” she said after a long pause. “What if we mess it up again?”
“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said without hesitation. “Together. I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”
Y/n stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was determination.
“I can’t promise I won’t get scared,” she admitted.
“Then I’ll remind you why we’re worth it,” he said with a soft smile, reaching out to take her hand.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/n felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could finally get it right. She squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Alright, Norris. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
-------------------
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yourusername wasnt exactly how i thought today would go but im not complaining. lando my bestfriend, i have never been more proud of you than today, congrats on your win and the constructors championship my love xx.
tagged: landonorris
lilymhe YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTEEE
-> yourusername STOP STOP STOP
ybsf yeah friends my ass
-> francisca.cgomes RIGHT????
alexandrasaintmleux FINALLY! do you know how hard its been to keep this secret
-> yourusername IM SORRYYYY
maxfretwell MY EYES??? NEVER GOING TO RECOVER
-> yourusername i thought you were supposed to be older than 5
landonorris never would've been possible without you
-> yourusername im always gonna be by yourside lan xx
-> user1 currently sobbing
user2 when i tell you i SCREAMED
user3 HE WAS THE MYSTERY GUY
user4 i was right and you can all suck it #y/nlandotrutherforlife
-> user5 you were right. i owe you an apology.
-------------
The atmosphere at Yas Marina Circut was electric as Lando crossed the finish line, securing another win and the constructors championship for McLaren. The McLaren garage erupted in cheers at a 1-2 podium, people hugging and cheering.
Y/n stood in the VIP area, her heart pounding with pride and excitement before she made her way out with the rest of team. As he climbed out of the car, arms raised in triumph, she couldn’t help but feel her own emotions bubbling to the surface.
Lando sprinted toward his team, embracing them but he quickly pulled away when he spotted her. He began weaving through the crowd, and before Y/n could fully process what was happening, he was right in front of her.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off her feet as she laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. And then, with the entire paddock watching, Lando kissed her. It wasn’t just any kiss- it was passionate, raw, and full of everything they’d been through to get to this moment.
The crowd around them erupted in cheers, camera flashes capturing the moment as it played out on the big screens around the circuit. Y/n could hear people losing their minds in the background, but none of it mattered. In that moment, it was just them.
When they finally pulled apart, Lando pressed his forehead to hers, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I told you we’d figure it out together,” he whispered, his voice just loud enough for her to hear over the noise.
Y/n chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek. “You did, and I’m so proud of you. You deserve this, Lando.”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “We deserve this,” he corrected, pulling her close again as the crowd around them roared louder.
That night, as the celebrations continued, Y/n and Lando stole away for a quiet moment on the balcony of his hotel room. The city lights twinkled below, and Lando, still wearing his racing suit, wrapped an arm around her waist.
“This feels like a dream,” Y/n said softly, leaning into him.
“It’s not,” Lando replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s just the beginning.”
------------
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yourusername i guess this is a full circle moment
tagged: landonorris, flo_norris_showjumping
landonorris 🧡🧡
-----------------
after literal months pt 2 is finally up. sorry it took so long but i felt like i had to do it justice and give you guys a good pt 2 and not a half assed one. but here it is an i hope you enjoyed it. thanks everyone for all of the support i got :)
@f1fantasys @saachiep81 @tini5 @melrosaeparker @styl1shl1v @ilivbullyingjeongin @saachiep81 @chloeannabelle @sleutherclaw
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gurugirl · 10 months ago
Text
Next Door Neighbors | Part 2
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neighbor!harry x reader
Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.
A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!
Word Count: 5k+
Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff
. . .
Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.
Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.
He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.
But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.
You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.
“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.
“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.
“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.
“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.
Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”
You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.
“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”
“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”
And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.
Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.
Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.
You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.
“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.
“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”
“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”
You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”
Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”
You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”
Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.
“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.
Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”
He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.
Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.
There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”
Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”
You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”
Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”
His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”
His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”
He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”
Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.
“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”
You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.
Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.
“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.
You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”
Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.
“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.
And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?
“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.
“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.
You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”
Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”
You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”
You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”
Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.
You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.
He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.
You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.
“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”
You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.
“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”
Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”
You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”
His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”
Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”
The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”
Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.
He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.
And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.
You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.
Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.
Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”
You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.
He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.
His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.
You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.
You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.
He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”
You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?
He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?
You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.
You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.
A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.
Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.
He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.
A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.
“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.
Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.
His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.
Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.
He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.
You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.
You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.
“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”
You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”
He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”
You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.
“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”
Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”
He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”
You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.
You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.
He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.
You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.
“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”
Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.
“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”
You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.
You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.
You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.
“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.
“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.
You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.
When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”
He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”
You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”
He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”
You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”
Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.
“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.
“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”
You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”
Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”
You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”
“Definitely, yeah.”
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im-sleepdeprived · 5 months ago
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Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️
this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!
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“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.
Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”
You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special. 
He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing. 
You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available  (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store). 
“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.
“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was. 
“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.
Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”
“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him. 
“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”
You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.
“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.
“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered. 
“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed. 
“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”
“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you. 
“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.
“Me and who?” Peter asked. 
“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”
Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”
“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”
Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.
“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”
He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”
“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”
Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger. 
He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly. 
“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.
“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed. 
Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped. 
“Peter!” You yelled. 
“Me or him?”
You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit. 
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thisapplepielife · 5 months ago
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Written for a @astrangersummer.
Tip Your Driver
Week #15 Prompt: Modern AU | Word Count: 4115 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Characters: Steve, Eddie, Wayne, Robin | Relationships: Steddie, Platonic Stobin | CW: Language, Non-Explicit Mentions of Sex | Tags: Modern Setting AU, Delivery Driver Steve, Rock Star Eddie, Meet Cute, Good Uncle Wayne Munson
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Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.
And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.
He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.
The house is really nice.
It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.
Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in. 
No, now he's pretty annoyed.
Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash. 
He's skeptical. 
Steve looks back at the house. 
Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.
At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.
Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.
But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.
"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.
Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off. 
Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.
"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him. 
"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."
"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"
Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.
Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.
"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.
"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.
"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.
"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.
Eddie ignores the question from his dad.
"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step. 
Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house. 
Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first. 
Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."
Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."
"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.
He's honestly gorgeous. 
Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.
Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.
Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?" 
"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."
"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.
"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.
That's a lot of beans. 
"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries. 
But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now." 
Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.
"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."
"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.
Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.
"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers. 
"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.
They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."
"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."
Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie. 
"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."
Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"
Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.
They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.
At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside. 
Holy shit. 
That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.
And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two. 
It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.
Now, it's different. 
Robin's gonna shit.
Hot damn.
Thank you, Eddie.
"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter. 
Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day. 
"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs. 
"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction. 
She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles. 
"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.
"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says. 
"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house." 
"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.
Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos." 
"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?" 
He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus. 
He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel." 
She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?" 
No. 
"Him?" 
No. 
"Him?" 
"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of. 
"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks. 
"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says. 
"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."
"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes. 
"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today." 
Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time." 
"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically. 
At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.
Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.
And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.
Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.
He's gonna risk it.
Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.
The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here. 
There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.
"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing. 
He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual. 
Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time. 
Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb. 
Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.
"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."
"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.
"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"
Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."
Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."
"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"
Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.
"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."
"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."
Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.
"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.
The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."
Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.
The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.
Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.
This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.
Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"
Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.
"How's your hip?" Steve asks.
"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.
"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."
Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."
"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.
"Indiana," Wayne says. 
"Hey! For me, too. Small world."
"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"
"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."
Wayne nods.
"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.
"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."
Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."
Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.
"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.
"That's me," Steve confirms.
"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."
Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.
Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.
"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."
Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"
"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."
"Don't we all," Steve says.
"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."
Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None. 
"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."
Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.
Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify. 
He doesn't belong here. 
He takes one last look at Eddie. 
Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.
He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.
And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car. 
"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows. 
"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.
"You're leaving already?"
Steve nods, "Work, you know."
Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."
"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."
Steve turns to keep walking.
"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets. 
He looks nervous.
He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn. 
"Eddie," Steve says.
"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"
Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"
"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."
Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.
Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.
Steve wants to, he really does. 
"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."
"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."
Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.
"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.
"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns. 
"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.
And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.
Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."
"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."
Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."
Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes. 
Well. That's how it goes.
Very, very well.
So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.
"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."
"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.
Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."
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If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!
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applestorms · 3 months ago
Text
L can be such a possessive character at times. he always strikes me as the type of person who is deeply aware of everything that he owns, both in a more literal sense and metaphorically-- like, he knows what money he has and how to use it, what resources are readily available to him and what he has to be sneakier to utilize, the habits and tendencies and emotional states of individuals and world governments both. the DN musical really puts an emphasis on the more computer-y aspects of how his brain functions, which isn't as obvious in the manga/anime but i think still works well as a way to follow his thinking. it's kinda what near does too: everything is a factor to them, every tiny detail a new opening to optimize for the best results, every person and location and object a part of a puzzle waiting to be solved. and as a part of that, L is deeply aware of every and any little thing he may or may not have control over, and exactly to what degree.
his habit of stealing titles as depicted in the LABB murders novel is such a good example of this. ryuzaki, eraldo coil, deneuve. he eats people alive and then takes their names for himself like some kind of fucked up fae or trickster god, creating new masks and personas to hide behind from the remains of the people he's devoured. i have to wonder if he would've used the title of KIRA for himself had he won-- i can hardly imagine what kind of power such a title could hold if held in his hands. of course, he could've just used the defeat of KIRA as a way to build up the L title even further, offering up the body of a dead god like perseus showing off the head of medusa. but L is so emotionally attached to the kira case, i struggle to see him allowing it to fade from existence so thoroughly as near does, even if it is only kept close on a private level...
this is part of why i think it genuinely makes a lot of sense that L's ultimate win state would include capturing light to some degree. even if the memory of KIRA somehow manages to fully disappear from the public consciousness, there is no fucking way L is letting light yagami out of his grasp. honestly, the moment that L truly loses this game is not when he starts investigating misa while still under rem's watch, not when light gets back his memories, not even when he dies, but the moment when he allows light to be freed from the handcuffs. the moment when he allows the other members of the task force to turn off the cameras and keep him from watching light and misa talk in the lobby. the moment when he gives up, lets light yagami go outside of L's personal sphere of control, is the moment when L starts the clock ticking down to the end of his own life.
this is one of the key ways in which i see light as a true equal and parallel to L, as after L's death he, intentionally or no, continues the same tradition and takes L's title for himself, twisting the two sides together into the L-KIRA amalgamation. only, the L title functions a little bit differently than every other persona or title that we see in the series-- because L's true name is L. that's all that he is. on a literal, legal, and emotional level, i don't think that L is anything more than L. he is the world's greatest detective, he's an incredible, weirdo super genius, but he does not afford himself much more than that, barely allows himself personhood or humanity outside of his work. light was the one to ultimately defeat L because he did not just put a stain on his character (as BB attempted), did not just kill him, but stole his very identity and took it for himself.
one of the biggest contradictions of L's character that i think you must accept should you attempt to portray him accurately is that he is both deeply detached from humanity while also having all of his work and effort and life be focused around saving it. it's one of the ways in which he is an exact opposite to light-- where light relies on humanity for external validation, to be Seen, while also looking down on it as dumb and immoral and spineless, L is so separated from it that he barely exists as a person, all the while dedicating almost every action he takes to helping it. remember: for all the emotional turmoil that wammy's house and the legacy of L may put on the kids living there, ultimately it's entire existence is nothing more than L's logical solution to his potential demise. if he dies, the world goes down with him, all of the cases that are yet to happen and he is yet to solve being left in the air. he has the foresight to set up a fail safe, but not to consider the emotional implications of what being that fail safe might feel like, how high the price of your own humanity is if you are not already alienated from it, the inability to have your own name on your gravestone-- though perhaps some of the blame also falls on watari's shoulders in this case, philanthropic old bastard that he is.
imo, playing his game really got it right in presenting L and light as one and the same, synonyms on either side of the mirror. in every action they take they are both so selfishly selfless, playing the game for themselves and their own pleasure but plastering the needs and will of humanity on top of it. L isn't invested in saving humanity for the sake of humanity-- he just likes the thrill of having the stakes raised so high. hard to shit on ryuk for wanting entertainment when the humans he finds are just the same as him.
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solarmorrigan · 1 year ago
Note
For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."
Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3
[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]
Angsty-ish Prompt List
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“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.
“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.
Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.
Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.
The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.
“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”
Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”
“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.
“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.
Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”
“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.
“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.
“No,” Gareth reiterates.
“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.
He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.
Like, one or two, maybe.
“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”
“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.
“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”
“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”
This declaration is met with a moment of silence.
“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.
“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”
“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.
“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.
“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”
“Constantly,” Gareth adds.
Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”
“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.
“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”
Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”
“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”
“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”
“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.
He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.
“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”
“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.
“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”
Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.
“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.
And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.
Easy.
Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.
“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”
The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.
There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.
Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.
“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”
Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.
“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.
He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.
And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.
Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.
“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.
Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”
Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”
“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”
“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”
Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”
“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.
That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.
Steve says nothing.
“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.
Except.
Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.
“Oh, shit.”
Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.
“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.
“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”
“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”
“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”
“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”
Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”
“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.
“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”
And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.
“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”
Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”
I like being with you, too.
Eddie had said that.
He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.
“I– I didn’t mean–”
“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.
Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.
“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”
“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”
Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.
“Steve…”
“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.
After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.
He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.
“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.
“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.
“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.
Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”
The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.
Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.
With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.
And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–
Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.
He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.
His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.
At least he won’t have to wallow for long.
Part 2
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leonsrailway · 7 months ago
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hello my love! been thinking about creepy stalker leon lately <3 maybe vendetta leon! he's damaged mentally and he can't stop himself from being fixated on you. like he corners you somewhere and dubious consent things proceed. IN PUBLIC WOULD BE HOT, but they don't get caught. for a fem! reader
ive been watching you.
AHHHHH first request ate tf up. something about vendetta leon makes me blush. i hope u like!!!
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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW UNDER THE CUT
CW: smut 18+, p in v, fingering, oral (f! receiving), dubcon, semi-public sex, stalking, obsession, masturbation, leon being a creepy perv, age gap (reader is like 22), noncon photography, choking, size kink if u squint and tilt ur head
fem! reader
divider: @leonsdolly
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hes not a weirdo. really! he never meant for it to go this far.
it was a random day last august when he wandered into the restaurant you worked at. but as soon as you came to his table and introduced yourself with that pretty little smile and those big doe eyes, he knew he'd been in trouble. after a short pause, he turned his charm on and started a conversation with you.
then he found himself back the next day. and the next.
he swore the only reason he showed up was for the coffee, which was the laziest excuse he could muster considering the coffee was from K-Cups, but you didnt seem to mind. every time you worked, you found your eyes glancing to his booth hoping to see his dark hair poking over the top of the booth in front of him. he could see the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, he just hoped you didnt notice the way his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.
during your small talk at his table, even after he learned you were half his age, he could only ever think about the way his large, rough hands would feel running all along your body, from your pretty tits, to your waist, to your thighs, to your- oh shit, what were you saying?
"you with me, Mr. Kennedy?" fuck, he loved when he heard his name leave your lips. "uh, yeah, sorry. long night. what were you saying?"
"did you want your regular?" you were smirking, almost mocking how distracted he was.
"yea, add something for yourself pretty lady, come sit with me on your break?"
leon had been a regular of your months. he looked to be in his late 30s-early 40s, and you'd be lying if you said his little nickname didnt make your knees a little weak.
"as much as id love to, Mr. Kennedy, i cant today. but i can definitely get that order in for you" you reluctantly deny his request.
he didnt appreciate that.
-
after a week of discreetly following you home after your shifts, he'd learned your routines. what time you shower in the evening, what time you have dinner, what time you touch yourself when everyone else falls asleep...
leon invested in some binoculars from the local nerd store and even found a little bush he could hide in perfectly angled to show him your bedroom. he even bought himself a new camera so he could take pictures of you when you look your best, oblivious.
when you had gone off to work one day, he snuck in right as you left. he's not sure what possessed him to do this, he used to be such a good guy. he wanted to protect and serve and... now look at him, rummaging in some 20 somethings underwear drawer.
-
you slam the register shut after counting your money for that night, it had been a long one. full of old men, not leon, telling you to "smile for them" or snapping at you for a refill of their sweet teas. everyone else had gone home for the night, and you were just about to lock up. your body ached, you felt like falling on the nearest flat surface and knocking out for the week.
until you heard the bell ding.
"we're close-" you were cut off by yourself when you saw who walked in, "oh, hey Mr. Kennedy."
theres his girl. "hey honey, you alright? you look tired" he approached you from behind.
"its been a long day, but nothing i can't handle. i was actually just about to lock up the restaurant... so.." you trail off, hoping he may get the hint that you just want to go home.
"well good thing i came in, huh?" he laughs, and so do you, but you didnt find it too funny. he was starting to stand a little bit too close to you for your comfort, even though you trusted him.
"i guess" you say, blushing when he gives you a look that made you almost rip off his shirt right then and there. but you cant, thats wrong, what would your parents think?
"you look pretty, angel" leon says, tilting your head up to look up at him. god, he was tall, and his one hand could cover your whole face.
"t-thank you Mr. Ke-"
"Leon. call me Leon"
"thank you, leon" you reply, crossing your arms, tensing up. you knew you shouldn't be feeling this way, it isn't professional.
he couldnt hold himself back anymore. whether it was the way your big pretty eyes looked up at him like a trap, or the way his hand was finally grazing your soft skin, something made him bold enough to kiss you.
"Le- Leon... we can't" you made out between kisses, as much as you were denying him, you were still kissing him back, that kept him going.
"we can't? that's too bad..." he mutters in your ear, breath fanning against your neck as his fingers wandered below your waistband, "because im gonna do it anyway"
you squirmed against him but you couldn't deny the way you mewled in his ear when he grazed your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. he laughed meanly in your ear before putting his free hand around your throat and gently squeezing when he applies the slightest pressure to your clothes clit, making you moan, "i knew you'd like that". he lays you down in a booth in the empty restaurant.
"p-lease... fuck" you tugged at his shirt, shyly asking for more. he laughs at the change in your charcter from only a moment ago, before ultimately complying with your silent request. he rips your clothes off and leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck, to your tits, to your stomach, and finally down to your pussy.
he gazes up at you with the hungriest eyes youve ever seen, glazed over and half lidded yet so focused on you. he makes out with your cunt, his nose bumping into your clit as he slips his tongue in and out of your hole, making lewd, borderline pornographic sounds. you were a wreck, writhing under him and grinding your hips into his face as he moaned incoherent praises into you, the vibrations making you soak his face more than you knew you could.
he eventually sticks two fingers into you as he sucks on your puffy, neglected clit, and once he curls his fingers to the spot that makes you jolt, he keeps on hitting that spot again and again and again until you cum in his mouth. he doesnt stop then, using his tongue to clean up your mess until you're pushing him away, a stupid cocky grin plastered on his wet lips.
you didn't realize you were taking his belt off until his cock was in front of you. he was big, leaking precum from his pretty pink tip and his eyes were piercing yours as he pumped himself a few times before lining himself with your entrance, the two of you gasping in tandem as he bottomed out inside of you.
tears pricked at your eyes as he began to move, the pain and pleasure and overstimulation from your last orgasm all combining and making a cocktail of sensations you've never experienced before. your head lolled to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut while leon rocked you into next year, until he just almost cuts off your airway and forces you to face him and look in his eyes as he drills into you like a jackhammer.
"ah-ah-ah-f-uuuck, Lee!" you moaned into his neck as you scratched pretty red lines down his back, making him grit his teeth to keep from letting out a whine he'd only heard when cumming in the panties he stole from your room
"i know pretty girl, feels good doesn't it?" he lets up on your throat, not that you could catch your breath at the rate he was plowing you. "y-yes- i'm cumming, oh my god im cumming" your eyes roll into the back of your head and you draw blood from biting your lip.
"go ahead princess, im right there with you" he grunts, slightly angling to hit you impossibly deeper, which was your final straw, you let out a string of curses and chants of his name as you cream his cock, he spills his load inside of you. not that you're that angry, his warm cum spilling out of you felt so nice you couldn't dare be angry.
the two of you catch your breath in silence until leon snaps a photo of your leaky cunt, both of your cum spilling onto your thighs.
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pha55ed · 4 months ago
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You and I | F2 (kimi bday celly!)
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type ::fluff tw/cw :: fem!reader for all :( contains :: kimi!, ollie, paul, pepe request :: you and i w kimi ollie paul & pepe plsss (literally my top 4 drivers LOLL im surprised by how many f2 requests there are) link to kimi bday celly!
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Kimi Antonelli | 04
Being one of the only girls in F2 meant that you were basically shipped with everyone on the grid, no matter if you ever talked to them. It was odd, but you expected all the ships to die down eventually, which most did. Except one ship: you and Kimi. It made sense, since you both are teammates after all.
Kimi doesn't know how to react to the shipping. Because on one hand, he knows it's inappropriate since you're teammates but on the other hand, he has a huge crush on you so he doesn't really mind it. So he's stuck in the middle, not sure what to do when asked anything about you.
When people ask him things like, "Have you seen the (Y/N) x Kimi fans?" or "Have you considered dating (Y/N)?" he just awkwardly laughs. Which is the worse option he could have done, since it just fueled the fanbase even more because he wasn't outright denying it.
But, he might have planned that: since he does love seeing all the edits of you two together :)
Ollie Bearman | 87
Since he's one of the most popular F2 drivers, he's already experienced being shipped with other people often. But usually he's shipped with boys, and he's comfortable with his sexuality to not get offended by the shipping since he knows he's not gay. The only issue now with being shipped with you is 1. you're a girl, 2. he does like you.
Whenever he's asked about you, he gets slightly flustered. It's clear to many that he might have a crush on you, but thanks to his delusional fan girls (I'm one of them) they spam Twitter and Instagram stating that you're just platonic soulmates with Ollie.
But Ollie is secretly basking in the ship edits of you and him. He doesn't want to be your platonic soulmate, he just wants to be your soulmate, period. Since he scrolls online so often to keep feeding his crush on you, he accidentally likes one of the ship edits.
This sends twitter into a meltdown, tons of moms and teen girls sobbing over Ollie basically confirming that he likes you. But thankfully, they gaslight themselves into thinking he thought it was a platonic edit. He knew damn well what he liked, but he's not allowed to say anything since it's a risk for PR and contracts - having two drivers date each other can get messy so fast. But he'd be ready to risk it all for you.
Paul Aron | 17
He's surprisingly bashful about the ships of you two, it's cute to watch him turn slightly pink in the ears and cheek at the mention of your ship name. Whenever he's asked about you, he can't help but try and lead the interviewer on - yet never give them a full answer of your relationship.
Your team won't allow you two to date, due to the high stakes and PR damage it would do. Especially since you're both so sought after - Paul being wanted by every girl, and you being wanted by every boy. But Paul didn't care for any girl besides you, you're all he wants and he's determined to get you. Most likely by dating under the table, hiding it from the world.
Whenever interviewers ask him things about his love life, he always hints that he has his eye on someone. Or whenever he's blantanlty asked about you, he can't help but smile a little and give a cheeky shrug, since he can't speak much on the matter.
As your teammate, he does try to flirt with you - but not in a douchebag way. Which is surprisingly, since his Instagram posts and friends scream frat-boy, he's different from them. He tries to take it slow with you, not wanting to scare you away by being seeming like a weirdo or asshole in any way.
Pepe Marti | 21
Being shipped with you made him happy and he's unable to hide that. He's naturally super smiley, so when he hears your name - it's almost as if you can see his tail wag at the mention of you. Just like a puppy, he has major puppy-love for you.
But he tries his best to not feed into the ships due to it going against the contracts and policies in place. His face just can't hide it though, he's grinning ear to ear when asked if he would ever date you. Only for him to reply, "Only if I got the chance to :)"
Basically: he makes your PR team work overtime to ensure the audience that you two are JUST friends. But it's hard to do when Pepe straight up tries to hold your hand in the paddock. Or when he posts on Instagram that you're visiting his family for dinner.
Thankfully, the PR are great at manipulating the public to believe you two are just friends - which you are technically,,, but you both know you're so much more than that.
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hitomisuzuya · 6 months ago
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OMGKOFMGMFOOFMF I LOVE UR WORK SM AND FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS…..
Scummy scara x reader smutty where hes like a weirdo and as usual obsessed with darling and just a sucker for you!!! I LIVE for ur scummy scara so😘😘
Luv u lots stay hydrated and healthy and thank you!!!❤️❤️
Scummy Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scara being obsessive, possessive, and perverted. Masturbation. Dry humping. Cumming on instead of inside. Pre established relationship in the beginning.
Thank you so much🥺🥺 I really love how this request was worded.
Scaramouche couldn't believe his luck one night. Never had he been so glad he took a walk because he couldn't sleep, thoughts of you consuming his mind. He was paused outside your dorm room, hearing the softest, most curious noises coming from behind the door.
His hand hovered over his hardening cock. He knew what you were up to, judging from the soft whimpers and moans. He pressed his ear to your door, closing his eyes.
He could just see you naked with your legs spread, your fingers working over your pussy as you writhed restlessly on your bed. Your back would arch as you grinded into your fingers. Shaky moans and sighs you were trying to muffle sounded from you, your fingers pinching and rubbing your clit.
Scaramouche bit his lip, having to swallow his own moans as his cock hardened and strained in his jeans. He wanted so badly to take his cock out and jack off to the sounds of your noises while he pictured you.
He couldn't help but palm his cock. He wanted to be the one making you make those noises. He heard your moans tinged with whimpers as you fingered yourself. He could picture you struggling, your hips bucking as you fucked yourself onto your fingers.
You poor thing. Your fingers were so small, they couldn't reach the places his fingers could. He really wished that your door was open a little, so he could actually see you fingering your pussy into a sopping mess trying desperately to get yourself off.
He almost lost it hearing you whimper softly about how you wanted to cum. He had reluctantly retreat back to his own dorm, not being able to ignore the ache in his cock anymore. With the aid of a pair of your panties he'd stolen from your room while you were out, he fisted his cock thinking of the all the ways he'd love to ruin you, and get you off.
Scaramouche would always make you cum, even discover that could squirt with his fingers alone.
Being that he is a trust fund baby, whatever Scaramouche wanted, Scaramouche got. It was only a matter of time before he sank his claws into you, and made you his. You came so willingly and obediently, the good girl that he could corrupt and ruin, reduce to a cock slut for him. It made him wonder if you'd been thinking about him that night.
"Everyone has to know," Scaramouche growled, pinning your wrists together above your head. He groaned, grinding his cock against your clothed cunt. "Everyone has to know you fucking belong to me, slut," He pulled your hair, forcing your head to the side so he could suck and bite on your neck.
He quivered feeling your body react to him. Your body twitched into his touches as you moved your head to the side, exposing your throat submissively to him. Your hips moved in time with his, his cock creating friction on your clit through your panties. He could feel your skin heating from embarrassment at how wet you were getting.
Your clit throbbed as your panties clung to it, the stimulation making you grind more needily against him. It always sent him reeling how fast he could make you needy for him. Even the way you squirm told him you enjoyed having your hands trapped above your head.
"Fuck, I can feel you soaking through my jeans," Scaramouche moaned next to your ear, his teeth biting and sucking greedily next to your throat. He knew you would never hide his deep bruises of possession.
Childe especially needed to see them.
Scaramouche reached down unbutton his jeans. He hissed softly in relief once he took it out. He hastily moved your panties aside. "How about if I cum on this pretty pussy, hm?" He rubbed his cock against your bare clit, tearing louder moans from your throat.
You mewled in pleasure as he delivers a wet flick to your clit, pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes as your hips jerked up to grind your pussy on his cock. His hand tightened on your wrists, groaning as his cock pulsed between your folds.
He let out an aroused, shaky laugh at how quickly your pussy was soaking his entire cock. He purposely pushed the head of his cock into your pussy, purely just to tease you and work you up more.
The more cock drunk you are for him, the more he could corrupt you.
Your moan of bliss as his cum spurted onto your cunt was the sweetest he'd heard.
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