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pickingupmymercedes · 26 days ago

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Rocket - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Rocket - Beyoncé

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: smut

wordcount: +3k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

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Nothing says vacation quite like a long bath—hot, bubbly, and quiet enough to make me forget just how close I was to a burn out barely 5 days ago.

I sink down a little further into the tub, letting the water glide over my shoulders, and close my eyes, letting myself drift.

And that’s when I hear the door creak open.

“Didn’t mean to distract you” he says, though I can hear in his voice he’s anything but sorry.

I open one eye, and there he is, leaning against the doorframe with his usual easy smile. He’s fresh from the beach, beads of water still clinging to his skin, his trunks hanging low on his hips, as if he planned this pose just to watch me stare him down.

“Well, if it isn’t Sir Hamilton himself” I tease, stretching my arms along the rim of the tub. “Come to see if I’ve fallen asleep in here?”

He grins, taking a step inside and closing the distance. “Didn’t seem right, you here all by yourself.”

“Really considerate of you” I reply, lifting my chin. “Or maybe you just wanted a peek?”

“Can you blame me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he walks closer, setting his hands on the edge of the tub, eyes dropping to take in the curve of my body beneath the bubbles.

And I’m suddenly very aware of how little separates us. He’s watching me with that familiar look, the one that says he’s happy to wait, but he’ll enjoy every second of making me squirm until then.

I could pretend I don’t know what I’m doing as I lean back, letting the bubbles slide down a little, just enough to tease him. “Well,” I murmur, “it’s not a bad view, I guess. If I were in your position, I’d want a closer look too.”

He chuckles, reaching for the bottom of his trunks as if that’s all the invitation he needs. I watch, fully expecting him to pull me out of the tub and straight to the bedroom. But instead, he lets his trunks fall to the floor, slips into the tub, and positions himself right behind me.

He’s got that effect, that way of changing the game in an instant, flipping my plans like they’re nothing.

And it works. His legs brush along mine as he settles in, his hands finding my shoulders, thumbs digging in gently as he starts to massage. It’s slow, almost tender, like he’s savoring every touch.

“So,” he says, his voice low and close to my ear, “what have you been up to today?”

I laugh, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder. “Relaxing. Isn’t that why you dragged me all the way to this island for? No internet, no communication…”

His hands slide down a little, fingers tracing the line of my collarbone before finding their way back to my shoulders. “And here I thought it was so we could spend time together.”

“Mm, maybe both” I say, tilting my head to look up at him. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, smell the salt from the ocean still lingering on him.

There’s a glint in his eyes, that playful, cocky look that gets me every time. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“What about you?” I ask, arching a brow. “How many waves did Miles got pulled under?”

“Let’s not talk about that, love.” His fingers drift lower, thumbs brushing over the tops of my shoulders, lingering just long enough to make my heart race.

“You really think I’m just gonna sit here and let you touch me like that?” I say, shifting a little to get comfortable.

The moment I move, though, I feel it—him, already hard against my back. And it’s my turn to grin, the kind of grin that tells him he’s not getting out of here easily.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” I asks, and there’s that edge of impatience in his breathing that always sends a thrill down my spine.

Although, it does sound more like he’s holding back just enough to see how far I’ll push him.

“Not uncomfortable” her murmurs, shifting just a little more, letting his hand rest casually on my thigh.

I bite my lip, feigning innocence as I let my hand drift upward, fingers brushing his skin in a way that I know drives him crazy.

His grip tightens on my waist, and I can feel his breath hitch, just for a second. That’s all I need to know he’s on the edge of giving in. “You know” he says, his voice a little lower, a little rougher, “I’m a patient man.”

“Sometimes, patience is overrated, though” I reply, smirking as I lean back into him.

His hands roam over my arms, fingers brushing the line of my neck, and I can feel every muscle in my body start to respond. He’s right there, right where I want him, and I know he’s not going to stop until he’s got me exactly how he wants me.

And honestly? I’m not about to stop him. Because I know the game I started, and focusing on feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my back, it’s all I can do not to melt right here.

I glance up and catch his reflection in the mirror across the room. His gaze is focused, darker than before, as if he’s mentally three steps ahead, yet he’s holding himself back—barely.

His fingers hover along my waist, a teasing line that just hints at where he wants to go, but he’s waiting, giving me this bit of power, letting me set the pace.

So, I had to push him.

Slowly, I take his hand and guide it up, trailing over my body until his fingers cup my breast under the warm water. A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips as I feel his breath stutter against the back of my neck.

“I can see you want to touch me” I murmur, pressing his hand to me as if to make it clear there’s no going back now.

His fingers tighten just enough to make my breath catch, and I feel him lean forward, his lips grazing my shoulder. “You’re making it hard to be patient, you know that?”

“Yeah” I purr, my voice deliberately soft. “That’s kind of the point.”

I reach for his other hand, guiding it lower this time, my fingers slipping down to where my own slickness has already gathered, spreading it back to coat his fingers.

I feel his intake of breath, and my pulse quickens, feeling his fingers find the slickness between my folds, slow and testing at first, his movements restrained but eager. The heat pooling in my core starts to simmer, and breathing is all I can do to keep my as he starts to move.

The rhythm he finds is perfect, intense but controlled.

My hand stays over his, feeling the taut muscles in his fingers, the way his palm fits just right, the roughened pads of his fingers exactly where I want them to be.

And every time he circles back to my clit, I can’t help but shiver, threatening to tip over into that blissful chaos he’s so good at bringing out of me.

It’s addictive, the way he works his fingers, the way he feels so attuned to every response I give.

The tension in my body coils tighter, my heart and pussy pounding as he keeps up that relentless pace, like he’s daring me to let go right here, right now.

My grip on his arm tightens as I arch back, the pleasure building, building, building until I manage to stop him.

“Slow it down,” I whisper, turning my head so I can brush my lips against his jaw. “We’ve got time.”

He lets out a quiet groan, his breathing heavy in my ear, but he listens, slowing his movements.

His fingers drag lazily now, tracing circles over my clit, gentle yet maddeningly precise, and it’s almost worse than before.

I let myself melt into him, my hands still resting over his, feeling every movement as he builds me up in slow, patient waves.

My hand keeps holding his in place as he teases, taking his time, and every gentle flick, every carefully controlled stroke sends another shudder of heat through me, each one deeper than the last.

I can feel him shifting slightly, pressing closer, his chest rising and falling against my back. It’s as if he’s pacing himself just to make me squirm, and it’s working.

The ache inside me intensifies, and it’s almost painful, just on the edge, waiting for that last push. But just as I feel myself about to tip over, his fingers stop, hovering right on the brink, leaving me in this impossible, maddening state of suspension.

I let out a breath, almost a whimper, my body tense with the need he’s left lingering. “Lewis…”

But he doesn’t move, not right away. Instead, his mouth grazes my ear, his voice low and rough. “Patience, remember?”

I shift up just a little, feeling his hands steady on my hips as I adjust, fighting for balance in the cramped space. The tub is small enough that our legs are all tangled, with his legs pressing against mine as I climb on his laps, but somehow, it just adds to the anticipation.

When my hand finds his dick under the water, I can feel how hard he already is. It makes me chuckle, a soft sound that escapes before I can stop it.

“What’s funny, love?” His voice is rough, low, almost daring me as his hands sooth the skin on my waist and lower back.

I glance back at him over my shoulder, and with a smirk, I say, “How controlled you’re trying to look” My fingers wrap around his hard dick, guiding him to press against me, feeling his resolve hanging by a thread. “You’re already rock-hard, baby.”

He groans, deep and guttural, his fingers digging into my skin just a little harder. And before I know it, his hips surge up, just enough to press the head of him against me, not quite inside but enough to make me feel that first, tantalizing stretch.

I fall silent, my breath catching in my throat, the heat of him poised right there. It’s maddening, almost torturous, the way he stops right there, leaving me on edge and hungry for more.

“Now you’re quiet,” he murmurs against my shoulder, lips brushing my skin, and the teasing edge in his voice is unmistakable.

But then he eases his hips back down, his hands shifting from my hips to my waist, and I can feel his grip firm as he starts to guide me down over him, inch by slow, delicious inch.

My breath hitches as I feel him filling me, stretching me, for real this time.

I can barely keep my thoughts straight. He’s deliberate with every movement, steady but unrelenting, and I can’t hold back the soft moan that slips out, echoing around the tiled walls of the bathroom.

The air feels thick, charged with heat and moist, and each second feels like forever as he continues to press me down, his grip grounding me while his dick fills me completely.

My core pulses as he finally bottoms out, his hips flush against mine. I rest there, feeling my muscles tighten and adjust around him, breathless and a little overwhelmed.

And when I can hear over my own heartbeat and the water on the tub, I hear him—a quiet, breathy whimper, one that tells me everything.

He’s just as undone as I am, his fingers pressing into my skin with a reverence that makes my heart start pounding again.

He leans forward, his mouth finding my shoulder, leaving soft, lingering kisses against my damp skin as every movement feels electric, each slow rise and fall of my hips dragging waves of pleasure.

I keep the rhythm as steady as I can, alternating between rolling my hips and sinking back down on him, savoring the way his breaths grow heavier, matching mine. His hands grip my waist, grounding me, and I let myself indulge in each controlled, teasing motion.

But the need thrumming in my core is impossible to ignore, and I can’t resist reaching back to guide him deeper, pressing my shoulders back against his chest to feel him fully.

The new angle pulls a long, unrestrained moan from me, one that fills the room. I’m not quiet; I don’t even try to be at this point.

I feel his lips curl into a smirk against my shoulder as he holds me close, his fingers brushing my skin with just enough pressure to make my body tighten where it feels like he’s imprinting his digits.

He groans, taking in the way my back arches for him, accommodating his every inch. “Love seeing you like this,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “All mine.”

I lean my head back onto his shoulder, giving him a knowing smile as I let my hips move slowly, every stroke drawing out longer than the last, savoring his restraint. “Enjoying the view?”

“More than you know” he murmurs, but his hands leave my waist, slipping up to my collarbone, and he pulls me back until I’m flush against his chest, completely open to him.

The shift presses him deeper again, and I gasp, my body trembling as he pokes just at the right spot, the one that has my toes curling.

My hands find his, and I guide one of them up to rest against my neck, fingers tracing along the side of my throat.

He’s amused, and I can feel the chuckle rumbling through him as he tightens his grip just slightly, his thumb brushing the sensitive skin below my jaw. “Full of kinks today, are we?”

I just smile, knowing that’s all the invitation he needs. His hand tightens a little more, just enough to cut off my breath, leaving me lightheaded and buzzing, every nerve heightened.

I can’t help how my body responds instantly, hips rolling back to meet his with, and he doesn’t hold back.

His other arm snakes around my waist, and he starts thrusting up, each movement harder and deeper, our combined rhythm spilling water over the tub’s edge in splashes we’re both ignoring.

“Can you feel how badly I want you?” he murmurs, his voice hot against my ear. His thrusts are relentless now, each one dragging its own moan from me.

My body arches into him, completely surrendering, and I meet him with equal force, the need coiling tight and ready to snap. He laughs low in my ear, thrusting harder. “Let me feel you, love. Let go.”

And I let him take over, his pace quickening as he moves inside me with a precision that has me clutching onto his forearms for balance.

The pressure around my neck heightens every sensation, my senses flooded by him, his touch, his voice, the steady, unyielding rhythm he’s set. And then, as I lose myself in the pleasure, the edge finally comes closer drawing me deeper until I’m lost to him, wrapped up in his hands, his heat, his control.

His hand slips from my throat, settling against my collarbone with a gentle brush, his thumb tracing soothing circles, grounding me as my body clenches around him.

His other hand moves down to my clit, flicking and teasing, coaxing wave after wave of sensation that has me moaning, helplessly leaning into his touch.

My body becomes numb to anything but him, balanced between his hands and the edge of my own undoing.

When my eyes finally meet his, I see the flicker of triumph there, and before I can fully settle back, he lifts me up, rising effortlessly with me. He turns me to face him, and I just follow his lead, still hazy from the high.

He presses me sited on the edge of the tub, my back resting against the wall, and leans in, capturing my lips in a deep, unhurried kiss that leaves me breathless. I feel his still rock-hard boner brush against me, teasing my swollen clit and my entrance, and it’s almost too much, too soon.

Then his hand slips down, lifting my leg up and pulling it around his waist, holding me open as he kisses me deeply. His mouth is warm, his tongue grazing mine as he holds me steady, and I’m sure he’s going to push into me again, finally, and give me more of the fullness I’m always craving.

But instead, he breaks the kiss, looking at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes, one that promises more than I can prepare for.

And I can even react. He’s kneeling down, his fingers gripping my hips, and then he’s right there, his mouth on me, his tongue dragging along my folds with a leisurely savor.

I gasp, one hand flying to his head, clutching his damp curls as my body jerks from the oversensitivity. “Lewis, you’re– I–” My words are jumbled, barely coherent, but he just chuckles, a dark, knowing sound that vibrates against my skin.

I’m trying to pull away, but his grip on my hips is unyielding, keeping me locked in place as he devours me like I’m some forbidden treat.

His tongue flicks and swirls over my clit, leaving me trembling against his hands. He works me over with an infuriating slowness, each lick and gentle suck deliberate and unrushed.

“Too much” I manage, voice cracking as he chuckles again, ignoring my plea.

He lifts his gaze, eyes bright with a kind of wicked satisfaction, before finally pressing a kiss to my thigh and rising to meet me again.

His mouth finds mine, capturing me in a searing kiss that makes me forget every other thought but him. The taste of myself on his lips is intoxicating, and when he finally pushes into me again, I’m a mess of tangled limbs and sharp breaths, overcome by him in every way.

His hands keep my legs open as he thrusts slowly, purposefully, drawing every sensation to the surface, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmurs, “Tell me you feel how much I need you”

Each word fans the flames of my oversensitivity, and I can’t help the quiet whimpers that escape. I’m lost in him, my hands clinging to his shoulders, my entire body surrendering to his touch, every word and movement building a maddening pace.

It’s like the world outside the two of us has completely faded. Each thrust, each deep groan that slips past his lips, is as sharp and electric as the first. The way he fills me, the way he knows exactly where to press, makes me wonder if I’ll ever catch my breath again, if I can even tell where he ends and I begin.

Time slips away, but I’m vaguely aware that the sun has dipped lower, casting a warm, golden glow that filters through the bathroom, wrapping us in its embrace.

It feels like we’ve only been here for moments, but my body knows better, knows by the way my muscles burn, by the way he’s starting to lose control, his breathing heavier, his moans deepening, rough and unrestrained.

His breath is warm and ragged on my neck, his hands gripping me like he can’t hold back any longer.

And he manages to pull out just in time, spilling over my stomach, his forehead coming to rest against my shoulder as his breathing slows, each breath matched with the last flickers of sensation that hum through me.

I slide my fingers up, raking lightly through the roots of his curls as he recovers, just barely catching his breath.

The weight of him, warm and spent, against me is something I’ll never tire of. He’s still leaning on me, a little dazed, when I break the silence with a teasing, “How much you need me, huh?”

He just chuckles, low and soft, and raises his head to look at me, that familiar sparkle back in his eyes. “Don’t remember you being this sassy minutes ago”

I grin, pulling him closer, letting my lips brush against his. “Well” I murmur between us, voice still a little breathless “If it means anything, I could never get enough of you”

His lips capture mine again, slow and tender this time, the kind of kiss that feels as unhurried as the sunset outside. A reminder, as if we needed one, that no matter how many times we’ve lost ourselves in each other, it’ll never be enough.

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itsvelyria · 9 months ago

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"types of smiles the f1 boys would love from their s/o"

happy show-your-loved-ones-you-love-them day!! 🤍🤎

Charles Leclerc

the shy smile: he fell in love with you when he saw that smile for the first time. he always knew you were too good, too nice to this cruel world and despite all the hardships you’d faced, you somehow still retained that innocence from childhood. that shy smile, all gentle and modest — he liked to think you reserved it solely for him, made his heart flutter like a schoolboy with their first crush all over again. your lowered eyes, radiating a certain charm he could never put to words. it was like he was cleansed from all the negativity that accompanied his line of work. maybe it would be better to say he was your devoted follower, begging his goddess for just a glimpse of her smile every so often.

Carlos Sainz

the loving smile: it wasn’t like Carlos had never had a crush before, hell he’s been in a long-term relationship before. but never has he felt the pull to you so strong before, even as you are right across him, laughing at something his sister said. his mind can only focus on the way your eyes sparkle at dinner with his family, mapping the crinkles beside them. and as the gaze he is dying to have land on him does, the bright smile shifts, edges softening into fondness, the slight raise of your eyebrows asking what he needed. he reaches across the table, greedily needing to feel your warmth too, wanting this moment to last forever.

Danny Ricciardo

the smirk: he can see it taunting him even from a few feet away, in the neon pink glow of the club. you were teasing him, challenging him after a casual remark about how you had no game. the glances you send up at the second level where he hung by the railing shoots sparks of green fury in him. he should have known better; you were nothing if not confident and it was evident in the guy you had been grinding against for the past 15 minutes. he hated everything about this, his skin felt like it was on literal fire, and he had half a mind to go down to the floor to drag you away. perhaps Max had a point, maybe he needed to face the reality that he had feelings for you.

George Russell

the warm smile: miles away from your hometown, new cities every week, away from everything and everyone he'd ever known, you were his anchor. your presence grounded him when it felt like the world was spiralling away and he had absolutely no control over anything. he waited as you spoke to a member of the team, the warm smile on your face taking the tension out of the new girl. it was the same smile you brought to restaurants and parties, making the people around feel at home. it was the same smile you gave him in his moments of uncertainty. you bounded over happily, saying something about the same school, with the new girl trailing behind and as he smiled at his colleague, something in his brain told him that things may change and ebb away but your smile could never.

Lando Norris

the proud smile: his whole life, he’s been working to be the best – to stand on the topmost step of the podium and hold that trophy up, to have people acknowledge him as a great driver, the best in the world. and he’s one step closer, the first race win of his career, a step towards greater things. he could feel the elation emitting from his entire team, but the pats on his back and cheers from his team couldn’t compare with that beam on your face. even all the way up on the podium, the only thing he was focused on was your face and how it resembled a mother hen looking on her chick. he pumps the trophy higher, the sense of pride bursting in his chest and all he could think about was how he was going to be a better driver, a better man, for you.

Lewis Hamilton

the comforting smile: it was the slightest tilt of your lips, the light from his nightstand outlining the soft frame of your body. the smile in your voice was easy to detect even as he laid his head on your tummy, exhausted from a long day of endless meetings and emails. sometimes, he wonders why he works so hard. his life has already amounted to so much and he had accumulated enough life experience to know the most important thing was family and his sweetheart. and then its nights like this, when the world beyond your sanctuary is dead asleep and everything fades away, leaving only what mattered: the gentle vibration under his head and your sweet lullaby and smile telling him nothing was more important than this moment right now.

Max Verstappen

the smiling eyes: the Internet had never been a nice place to him. sneers and belittling comments deterring him from ever going on there if he had a choice. but as a 3-time World Champion, his social media obligations were more important than before. when you two started dating, he wanted to keep it private. everything bad in the world, in his opinion, had no chance of ever hurting you as long as he was around. which is also why he never brought you to races. the fewer the interactions between you, the less there was for the media to scrutinize. but it was moments like this, as the camera pans to you in the garage. your face is hidden but your eyes are bright and admiring him in his element, your name broadcasted with his beneath, told to whoever was watching, that he bookmarks the image in his mind.

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shaarlslec · 2 years ago

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me and the devil

words: 2769

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

warnings/notes: charles leclerc x reader, none for now; i've been gone but now i am back and i am trying to get back into writing, this is only an introduction to help me get back on track;

inspired by: Soap&Skin - Me And The Devil, The Neighborhood - Afraid, The Academic - Why Can’t We Be Friends?, lovelytheband - i like the way, The Wombats - Turn , Wallows - Pleaser

masterlist

You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him.

Two championships in the bag since the 2024 season, Charles Leclerc was now fighting for the third one. Flued by the mistakes and wrongdoings of his team and his alone, Charles changed the game, and he was not planning to stop anytime soon. He had to win, he had to be the best that there ever was – and winning two championships represented the beginning of his legacy.

Charles had realized three seasons ago that the good old ways of listening and submitting to his team’s orders was not working anymore for him and his goals. Trusting them with his whole heart that they have a plan for him somewhere soon in the future neither.

First season since the attitude adjustment brought him the second place in the Championship miles away from third place, and the other two the winning title bringing the Italian team back on top, instituting dominance back on the grid. How that managed to happen, everybody wondered when the answer was rather smile – Charles Leclerc was done being nice, obedient, and sweet.

The Monegasque flicked a switch, decided not to follow Xavi’s words all the time over the radio and stopped the hope tap, instead Charles began staying up late every single evening after a race with the engineers and strategists to plan the best way to fetch the next win, not letting them move a finger without him knowing. The entirety of Charles’ life outside and inside the track was Formula 1, not even bothering to afford leisure time anymore, hours and hours of training, testing, and manhandling.

Starving for the win every time when he passed Max or Lewis, never switching positions with his teammate if asked too and sarcastically apologizing for any accident he had provoked due to his now very risky driving – no matter the drivers who were involved. That is what Charles had to do to put his team back on top, and to stop the laughs coming from his haters. Failures can make a man turn bad, and it has turned Charles Leclerc for good.

Ferrari minded at first, but after seeing how a good guy turned bad can win them races, can win them points, can cash for them, and put them back at top, the comments towards him from the team had stopped. No matter how harsh Charles replied to interviewers and no matter how much fuss he was making over the radio – they let him rule.

You were bothered by that to an extend that those sleepless nights that Leclerc had in the garage were your own too – figuring a way to beat him at his own game as his teammate. Yes, the truth was that Charles Leclerc could have not done it without you, without his sweet lieutenant: the one who agreed on being Ferrari’s second driver and forever little helper for Charles Leclerc to shine.

You took Ferrari’s seat two years ago, and the timing could have not been more unfortunate for you to take your shot at one of the bigger teams after rookie years of switching seats in between midfield ones. You were proud to be one of their drivers as everyone dreaming of racing could have been, and it was meaningless to say that part of the excitement of sharing spots with Charles was highly impacted by your undying little crush on him since you were just a junior.

Those feelings of admiration, marvel and curiosity swiftly turned into resentment throughout the two years. Oh, what complications your feelings for Charles were. In the same fashion, what complications you joining the team was for Charles. He knew you, and no in the way the others knew you – but in the way of him being your mentor throughout the years. He had always been talented, and you caught his drift from earlier on watching him climb the ladder as you followed in his steps.

You followed him around when you could, being five years younger than him and not attending the same tracks and leagues as him made it complicated to do so – and yet, you managed. Charles saw something in you too, although you two were not exactly from the same generation – he took his time before F1 races to watch you drive in your F2 ones and watch closely if you were taking his advice. He liked to think about you as somewhat an investment, but what do you do when you start to find your investment as something so much more?

The little protégé turned into the protector, having Charles’ back anytime he needed, changing positions with him every single time when asked, putting him ahead of you all the time for the sake of the team for two whole years. Your mentor-mentee relationship changed since you two were now teammates, and when you were not faking it for the sake of PR and Ferrari’s imagine – you were playing catching mouse most of the time. You obeyed for the first two years, and yet you were the first one to be feed up about Charles Leclerc’s villainous attitude that got him winning championships in the first place. Therefore, you were becoming a threat now although people in the time were already talking about your shift – Charles Leclerc was the first one to feel it.

“I am pretty sure I am faster than him.” You spoke quite calmly to your race engineer hitting the DTS zone while being 0.782 seconds behind P1 that Leclerc hardly managed to keep due to his tire degradation, “I am not waiting for your approval, I am passing him.” You declared, fingers almost crushing on the steering wheel.

“No, no, Y/N. Do not pass him, I repeat – do not pass Charles.”

If you could have rolled your eyes at the engineer, you would have done it in the most annoyed ways he had ever seen a woman disgusted by his words ever in his life. Instead, you keep your calm and speeded. Leclerc was not the only driver that was not listening to his team, you were not either – he thought you that through his actions, right? Well, Charles taught you most things you know about how to race for Ferrari.

It was never easy to pass Leclerc, especially this season since Ferrari managed their best to produce a car according to his driving style (jokes were on him in that matter, since you have been mimicking his driving style since you were fourteen). And yet, through the ten races this season had so far you quite enjoyed every single battle on track with your teammate. Full concentration on, you battled Charles for almost one full lap teasing him enough for his tires to almost fail completely and for your entire body to ache at every single taking of a risky turn wheel to wheel with him.

Fans were in awe; Fred and the whole team were at the edge of their seats with hands clasped praying you two will not crash like you did during the season’s last race (causing your car to be retracted), and as you passed Charles and maintained the ten last laps ahead of your teammate with a teensy half of a second gap or even less you knew that everyone was going to talk about how you stole P1 from Leclerc for the third time this season. Also, you knew how Leclerc’s reaction was going to look like in front of the others. Calm, restricted and with a congratulatory smile all over his pretty damn face. Fuck, it would have been easier for everyone (especially for you) if Charles were not to have such a pretty damn face.

“You needed to be stubborn, weren’t you?” Charles spoke as soon as your helmets were off and you were waiting your turn to hop on the podium after Max claimed the third spot, making sure that you two were the only ones hearing his words.

“You need to stop acting like a prick, don’t you?” You returned the comment making him room to pass you, “Go on now Leclerc, claim your second.” You dared to mock even further, blood boiling inside Charles’ insides as his dreadful glare pierced you with the additional shake of head and a corny smirk sprung on his face.

That was usually how many of your conversations with Charles went lately, sarcastic comments and calling each other on your surnames, faking the coldness of what was a made-up reality in between the two of you. In that type of a reality – you two hated each other when, in fact – you were drowning until the pits of hell together not in heathered but in a form of lustful longing and yearning Dante wrote about.

It was useless to say that your relationship was a twisted complicated one. You have been friends before being teammates, each developing what seemed to be crushes on the other during that time. Then, you helped him achieving what he had always craved the most by playing the good cop of the game – and now you were turning on him. Oh, more than acquaintances, less than friends and under many circumstances craving to be lovers.

The evening after the race called for a huge party thrown into your honor and the 1-2 finish for the team, and the timing could not have been more perfect as that was the last race before the summer break. You needed this, you deserved the win – and you were going to celebrate with everyone who wanted to do so. All the drivers were invited, Charles Leclerc included. Most of you knew that he will not came. Charles had missed most of the parties in the past two years, even though most of them were thrown for him.

“He is going too far with his World Champion vibe.” Norris spoke as the group you were with at the bar were talking about the bet that has been placed at the beginning of every party in the last year or so: will the champ come?

You slightly sighed, your bid for tonight was “no” no matter how much you would have wanted him to truly celebrate with you your win. You took one of the shots that were placed across the bar and drowned it whole. That’s it Y/N, you have to abandon the idea that he still finds you likeable.

Shaking your head due to the high percentage of alcohol you found burning your mouth, you turned to Norris and gave him frowned look, “You always choose the most grotesque shots to start the night with.” You added, napkin now glued to your lips.

Norris’ eyebrows cockily twitched up, “Wait until you see the other that I have plan—” Norris begun to speak but shut his mouth tersely as his eyes went behind your shoulders fixing them on whatever he saw that made him grunt, “Oh fuck – losing all my money again just because of him.” Norris muttered, eyes rolling as well.

Your heart sunk the moment Norris’ finished, Charles was right behind you. You could have caught that judging by what Norris just said, and yet what gave it away was the scent of that one Prada perfume you knew too well. Looking over your shoulder, your glare fixed Leclerc who was already looking right back at you. Besides sarcastic and bitter comments, excruciating long enduring stares was one of your things too. Perhaps they meant something more than just seeing who is winning at the game of asserting dominance, something in between the lines of “I want to touch you, and yet I am afraid I might get burned.”

“Don’t give her too many shots – she gets drunk easy.” He commented, and of course the very first thing your teammate said in a mass of people was about you.

“I don’t.” You childishly replied without breaking the eye-contact, knowing very well yourself that your alcohol tolerance was not something you could show off like you do with your driving skills.

Leclerc let a short amused chuckled escape from between his lips, “Let’s agree to disagree.” He then added, taking a shot as well after quitting in fixing your glare with his – you won this time too.

“That is all you two have been doing since the beginning of the season, aren’t you bored yet?” Russell interviewed with a swift move inside the party, patting your shoulder and gently taking you into a warm embrace, “Congrats darling, awesome drive today!” He then added, joining Leclerc for shots but not before he metaphorically turned the knife inside his friend, “I wish I could say the same about you too, Charles.”

You mimicked an embarrassed smile watching Leclerc giving George a side-eye, “Thank you, George.” You added, not missing on the chance of mocking Charles together with him, “You did your best, don’t mind George.” You bittersweetly spoke, Leclerc placing the empty shot glass back on the bar and giving you one of his signatures shake of disapproval accompanied by a short silence before a scornful comment.

“Since when does George Russell call you darling?” Leclerc then asked, watching George and Norris make their duty in finding homes for the remining shots made of the other drivers’ hands.

Your shoulders shrugged, “I guess it is a British thing.” You shortly laughed, “And since when do you care how other drivers call me?” You wondered, catching yourself too comfortable to really laugh in presence of Leclerc without the laughs being results of sarcastic comments exchanged in between the two of you.

Leclerc’s eyes widened for a short while as he found himself a contented position next to you, who were sitting on a high-bar chair making yourself stood a little taller to Charles’s side, with his elbow pressing the bar’s surface and his chin sustained in his palm, forearm fully into your sight now as well as his peering eyes on yours again. To add to this whole thing, Charles’ other hand wrapped its fingers on the edges of the chair you stood in.

Inches away from each other while the others were taking their seats at the woodened table at your left next to the bar waiting for the food, you two felt like you were alone in the whole entire restaurant – just as you feel when your cars are creeps away on the track.

“I don’t.” Charles replied, fingers gripping on the chair even tighter – sign that Leclerc actually did care on whatever appellatives others used for you when you two only permitted surnames in between the two of you, “We need to talk about today.” He then voiced and you could feel your heart sinking right into your stomach.

“We don’t.” You added, getting down from your seat with a hasty move that meant being trapped in between the chair and Leclerc for a brief second before he took two steps back, almost as if he was careful of your bodies not to accidentally collide, “I have nothing to say to you – I was faster and I passed.” You smiled right back at him, “Sucks to be the second driver at Ferrari for the day, right?” You spoke looking over your shoulder as you made your way to the table next to the others.

You left Charles hanging in there with no chance to reply. He breathed slowly, and after selfishly taking another shot from the bar, your teammate followed your steps towards the table but made sure to sit across from you.

Hours passed, food was served and finished, drinks were aligned and tasted. You enjoyed celebrating your win, and you would have wished for the one standing across the table from you peering with those beautiful damn eyes catching yours from time to time analyzing them back, to celebrate it with you too. Yet, that was unheard off – Charles Leclerc was not celebrating other drivers’ wins anymore.

You liked sweet Charles better than villain Leclerc, and you caught yourself thinking about this while Charles was exchanging shots with Pierre at the bar that evening laughing about unknown whispers coming from the French driver right at Charles’ ears.

In all loudness, Charles’ laughs echoed the most in your head and you would have been able to give up all your wins for him only if that guaranteed you that Charles that you knew back into your mentorship years could come back – that is how complicated being teammates with Charles Leclerc was for the moment, and how much more complicated it will become now that you were turning into the devil you were so afraid of walking with.

#he is so boyfriend coded is not fair #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fandom #f1 fiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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dpr-stay · 1 year ago

Text

Through the years | D.K

Doh Kyungsoo x f1driver!Reader

Warnings: Swears, a lot of crack

WC: 9.1k (ik, kill me now)

Howdy Cowpeople! This one is... hefty. This wasn’t supposed to be as long as it was but when I get in a groove... I think I made it obvious but I just wanted it to be over L O L. This one is pretty niche, but hopefully it can be enjoyed by both sides as it is a driver!reader.

(I didn't edit this, whoops)

2015

“Can you explain this picture?” The reporter asks, hovering in front of you with a phone in hand. The crappy quality is amplified as they have zoomed into the point where the picture is unrecognizable. You squint your eyes to see it and can’t make out quite what they’re trying to show.

“Sorry, w-what is that?” You ask, drawing back and squinting your eyes, resisting the urge to close them from exhaustion. Whoever decided it would be a good idea to do interviews after nearly 100 continuous laps in some barely held together race car with no break was a sadist. No other explanation.

“Oh! It’s a picture of you in a car with a guy.” The reporter said eagerly and shoved the phone your way. You briefly looked at the camera, an unimpressed look on your face, before turning back to the phone and squinting again.

You paused for a minute and drew back, your face still scrunched up, and exhaled.

“Nahhhhhh.” The drew out word left your mouth.

The reporter’s head tilted and they frowned.

“But it is! It’s you in Seoul after the Japanese Grand Prix!” He continued, looking very determined. You plastered a confused expression on your face.

“I’ve never been to Seoul before.” His face dropped and he turned back to his phone, as though trying to rationalize what he was hearing.

“Have you just taken a picture of… two random people in a car? To me it honestly doesn’t even look like anything cause it’s so zoomed in but to each their own.” You finished your words with a shrug.

“No, my source told me that that was 100% you! They said they saw you get in the car at the airport.” He continued on, undeterred by your flat disregard.

“I hate to say it, your contact’s wrong. I’ve never even set foot in the country.” You shrugged before turning to your PR manager who was gesturing for you to leave, with rather forceful movements. That was to clue you in that you were in trouble. With her personally or with the boss man, you didn’t know.

“Lovely to see you again, though.” You smiled and held your hand over. The interviewer tentatively took it and you exchanged good-byes before you turned around and left to go onto more interviews. The glance you exchanged with your PR manager told you that you were lucky you had not been caught out on your multiple lies and you heaved a sigh of relief to yourself.

Being the only female driver in a heavily male dominated sport was incredibly stressful. Add to that the eyes of reporters trying to find you doing anything remotely weird to spin it into a scandal and you had a lot of things to worry about. Especially since you had just started a relationship with a highly coveted Kpop singer which you were determined to keep under wraps.

You both had a bet running with each other. The first person to reveal the relationship would lose. There was no consequence but your pride, something which both of you had a bit too much of.

And so, a game was born. It simultaneously made you more careful of revealing your relationship while also making it a fun game.

This also meant that you had to start constantly lying to reporters to get out of tricky situations. Surely nothing bad could ever come from this.

2016:

“How does it feel to be a key contender for the championship?” Asked a reporter, directing it to, of course, Lewis Hamilton, who was sat beside Daniel in a panel of drivers. You were sat on the other side of Daniel, the small desk in front of you reaching for miles on either side.

As Lewis gave the carbon copy response that he had given to every interviewer so far, Daniel leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“I’m surprised they haven’t called him out on that yet.” He then reached for his plastic water bottle and took a sip. You considered this for a second before leaning to his side and answered, not turning your face from the crowd of reporters.

“I’m surprised they haven’t called you out on your disgusting trim.” He jolted forward at this unprompted attack on his hair and the choking sound he emanated drew attention from all in the room, all watching him with curious eyes as he tried to regain his breath.

“You alright mate?” Lewis asked, one of his eyebrows arching.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” Daniel replied, waving his hand, eager to have attention off of his spluttering. It took a while but eventually all the cameras were aimed back at Lewis, so Daniel took the opportunity to elbow you hard in the side, your reaction being to topple off your chair dramatically. Usually one for the dramatics, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Daniel want the cameras off him so much.

Hidden behind a small desk, you could only hear the questioning tones calling out your name and see Daniel’s slightly panicked face urging you to get up and back on your chair. With one single hand, you reached for the desk and slowly pulled yourself up.

You released a deep breath as you hauled yourself into your seat and turned to face the crowd of reporters who were looking at you. With a grand hand gesture, you motioned for them to continue with their interviews and turned slightly to Daniel with a smile. He shot you back an exasperated glance before your name was called from the crowd of reporters. You looked towards the reporter and he began speaking.

“So, as you’re the only female on the grid I feel the need to ask, if you could date any of the drivers, who would it be?” The eager face he had contrasted with your entirely unimpressed face. You could hear Daniel begin to start speaking and you could feel the defensive energy emanating from the rest of the drivers on the panel, but before any of them could interrupt with scathing criticism about the misogyny that permeated the question, you replied to the reporter.

“Literally none of them, I’d rather die.” Your response was met with general silence before Daniel started laughing as usual.

“Really? You wouldn’t fancy any of them?” The reporter asked, almost in disbelief.

“No!” You said almost equally in disbelief.

“I’m fine with what I have at home!” You added on after a second.

“Are you saying you’re in a relationship???” The reporter was on the edge of his seat, others shoving their microphones and cameras trying to get a good shot. You dramatically pondered that for a second before replying.

“I wouldn’t say that, I just have other things at home.” You said that and then leaned back, shrugged, and didn’t say anything else into the mic even at the reporters continual uproar as they took in the implications of that statement.

You, luckily, were able to avoid the increasingly weird questions by just not answering and smiling. You weren’t as lucky to miss the smirks thrown your way by the other drivers.

2017:

“It doesn’t count!” You said in disbelief, aiming it at the microphone of your phone.

“Mmm I’d say it counts.” Kyungsoo replied back teasingly, his voice echoing into your AirPods.

“You can’t go back on your word!! You said it was fine last year!” You were sitting at a table in your company's hospitality, having a conversation with Kyungsoo on the phone, blissfully unaware of the interviews going on outside the building which had a clear view into the small area.

“Yeah but it’s been two years, one of us has to call it quits soon.” Your face contorted before Kyungsoo quickly amended his statement.

“The bet! The bet! Sorry, that came out the wrong way.”

You just shook your head, a small smile growing on your lips.

“You bastard, you had me a little worried.” He scoffed in response. He had been speaking quietly into the phone as he was hiding in a closet in the SM building, taking a break from practice to talk to you. A true charmer.

“As if.” He replied shortly, a loud scuffling heard on his side.

“One second.” He said, as a banging sound came through into your headphones.

“Come on Hyung! Get off the phone and come back before someone else finds you!” Kai’s voice could be heard through the door. A pause before the banging started again.

“Also tell her I said hello!” You giggled at the younger man’s words and Kyungsoo’s sigh in response.

“I’ll call you after the race, do your best, I love you.” Kyungsoo muttered into his phone before shouting back to Kai something about respect and to shut up. It just made you laugh more.

“I love you too, practice well and I’ll call you soon.” You finally said in response after the yelling died down.

“Bye.” He said before quickly tacking on another “love you” and then he hung up.

After he hung up you just stared at your screen for a second with a smile you would 100% not call radiant on your face. It was quickly wiped off when your PR manager popped up out of nowhere and started talking about interviews, causing you to switch to English as you stood up and followed him.

However, the interview still captured your little moment and the conversation preluding it. You knew this because, when you went back to your phone after the race, Baekhyun had sent you a picture of your smile through the tinted glass with a smirking emoji as well as a picture of Kyungsoo on the floor in the closet in the dark talking to you on the phone, not to mention the hounding you got at the next press conference.

2018:

You knew it was risky to do a live in your own apartment, especially since you were in a completely different country than where you were claiming you were.

But your PR team wanted you to do it, and you couldn’t exactly tell them no, even if you were currently lying to them about your circumstances. You were a bit worried that something unexplainable might happen like the South Korean national anthem suddenly blaring but what you weren’t worried about was the person who you were living with coming back and interrupting your live.

Kyungsoo was at practice and, while you were ok with him skipping it to talk to you on the phone, you didn’t want him to skip it now, as you had been promised a few days without any interruption if he went to every practice. So he was at practice and you were fulfilling all your expected PR duties for the next couple of days, which included the live.

Regardless of your hesitations, you set up your phone on your coffee table facing the entrance to your home and sat on the couch before turning on the live. Immediately people joined, flooding the chat and making your phone vibrate.

“Uhhh hello everyone.” You awkwardly greeted as you tried to think of things to say. Kyungsoo would be fantastic at this, you couldn’t help but think, always having to do live’s with his members.

“How’s everyone’s days been?” You settled on and watched the responses roll into the chat. You noticed a few drivers had joined your live and even a few of the boys from F2 and F3 were watching, which you thought was pretty nice of them considering it was mainly you rambling for around 30 minutes.

Your manager wanted you to do an hour minimum for the live and the time seemed to stretch for years, you continuously making small talk and occasionally replying to comments. You even snuck in a few jokes for the other drivers before, around the 55 minute mark, a sound came from your end.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you wondered where the noise was coming from, looking around the apartment. Quickly standing up, you looked around the apartment, making a lighthearted joke about ghosts as you nervously tried to find the origin of the sound.

You realised that sound was the wrong key being put in the lock as soon as you registered the sound of the correct key being put in.

As Kyungsoo opened the door, you made the biggest leap you think you have ever made. It would’ve had to have been around 4 meters surely. Somehow you had leapt onto the coffee table, knocking your phone down. Kyungsoo was staring at you weirdly as you violently gestured at him to shush. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you ok?” He asked, his deep voice sounding as lovely as ever. You took a second, contemplating your options in this circumstance before coming to a logical conclusion.

You started to scream.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!” Kyungsoo’s face shifted to one of confusion as yours was full of desperation.

“YOU CRAZY PSYCHO! GET OUT!!” You continued to yell in perfect English, a contrast from his peaceful question, and gestured for Kyungsoo to close the door, which he did, albeit very confused.

As soon as he closed the door, you maneuvered yourself so that you weren’t facing him and quickly picked up your phone from underneath you.

“Oh my god, what just happened.” You said, showing the camera your roof. You picked up the phone and started fidgeting with it.

“‘Are you ok?’ Yeah I’m fine, I just gotta figure out how to change the locks. I’ll uh.. I’ll get back to you guys. See you later.” You said absentmindedly, as you ended the live.

You paused for a second, sat back on your heels, and sighed, staring up at the roof. The sound of footfalls reached your ears and you didn’t react when Kyungsoo placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m not losing this bet.” You mumbled, staring at the ground. An incredulous laugh left him at that as he reached his hand further and brought your face to look at him. A smile that there was no other way to describe but goofy was spread across his face.

“You’re still thinking of that?” He asked and you nodded.

“I take our bet very seriously.” You said before he slightly shook his head, gave you a kiss on the forehead, and moved towards the kitchen.

You picked yourself up and moved to the dining table as he started work in the kitchen. And, as he made a delicious dinner that you both enjoyed, you started to field off your PR team asking who was in your house and ignoring the comments wondering why the guy was speaking Korean in the middle of England.

2019:

It was approximately ten minutes before you had to be in the car and ready to go, and you were half-way there. You had your fireproofs and race suit on and you were being herded towards your car by a crowd of engineers. Strategies and specifics were being directed at you and you could only nod and act as though you were absorbing what they were saying.

Even after four years on the job some people felt they just couldn’t rely on you. Honestly, they should just let you do your thing, you knew what you were doing.

No! God, ever since Kyungsoo had joined the military you’d been irritable and quick to anger on the track. Your poor engineers were trying their best to get through to you, likely because they wanted to keep their jobs, but you’d been incredibly closed off since after you got back from the honeymoon.

Oh yeah, you got married. During a break and right before Kyungsoo was scheduled to start his enlistment, you got married down in a small courthouse with only a few people from either side. You had your family, a few close friends, and a few drivers while Kyungsoo had his family, a few close friends, and the whole of EXO.

It was very emotional and intimate, but that was how you’d describe your relationship so you were very happy with it. You were also extremely happy with the week get-away in the middle of nowhere in New Zealand that followed after, a week of people not recognising both you, farmers markets, and sheep. Lot’s of sheep.

But ever since he’d flown off to do his duty to his country (and shaved his head, no one should look that good with a shaved head) and you’d flown to your next race, you’d been incredibly… angry.

You didn’t know if it had to do with not seeing Kyungsoo for the better part of two years or having that split immediately after the wedding, but what you did know was that it was affecting your racing so you had to snap out of it.

Being dragged back to the present you quickly hopped in the car and performed all of your checks on the steering wheel and adjusted things while people flitted around outside the car, adjusting things and making sure the car was in proper state.

After a quick radio check, the call to start up for the formation lap (you were in P11 after a pretty dodgy qualifying) was relayed and all around you could hear car’s engines coming to life. You glanced at your engineers and snapped down your visor at their nod, starting the car.

Before you pressed the throttle something quickly came to mind. You rapidly gestured for one of your engineers to come close to you, incredibly conscious of all the cars revving around you. The poor engineer almost sprinted to you as you started to fiddle with the zip of your racesuit, the gloves you were wearing prohibiting you from unzipping it.

The engineer's face was comically concerned and he slowly reached forwards before you looked up and grabbed his outreached hand. His face immediately went to one of shock as you made his hand grab the zip and unzip the front part of the suit.

Choosing to ignore the cameras capturing this interaction you continued unzipping it till it lay around your collarbones, hoping the cameras don’t catch any of your naked shoulders. The engineer's face then relaxed as he saw the necklace around your neck and he quickly reached in, almost leaning over the car, to move your necklace around your neck till the latch was in front of him.

He cautiously unlatched the necklace before zipping up your race suit. You immediately relaxed as the pressure around your neck was relieved. Before he could retreat back to the crowd of engineers, you grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding your necklace and slapped it appreciatively with your other hand.

He retreated as you powered up the car and started to move it forwards, letting all the cars that needed to go before go before you started to move.

Your team radio started up as you were leaving the pit lane.

“You all had us very confused there.” Your race engineer said as you started your cruise around the track.

“Yeah, sorry I completely forgot about it. But I thought it was better to take it off.” You said, pressing down on the throttle.

“He better not lose that though. I want that back at the end of the race.” You subtly threatened, suddenly thinking of the rings that were attached to the necklace. You hoped that maybe the cameras hadn’t seen your wedding and engagement rings but you knew there was no chance they hadn’t not captured it. Oh well.

“I don’t know if you’ll get it back by the end of the race.” Your engineer said, her tone almost sarcastic.

“What’s that mean?” You asked, letting the car cruise.

“You’ll probably be killed by your PR team first.” She said bluntly. So bluntly it made you laugh.

“I’ve got a race to focus on.” You reminded her, leaving out the part that you had a race to think of an excuse as to why you have two rings attached to a necklace around your neck.

And you did think of an excuse, wearing the necklace proudly during post-race interviews and saying it was a family heirloom that had been passed on to you by your grandma whenever you were questioned about it.

The moment still went viral though, people questioning the relationship between you and the engineer. It went viral enough to that you had to suffer through teasing by Daniel and his accomplice Max Verstappen (you didn’t know how the kid knew you were married but you suspected it had something to do with an annoying Australian) not to mention the shit being talked in the EXO group chat you were in.

I mean seriously, all of those guys are millionaires, does Chen have nothing else to do with his time than bully the wife of his bandmate?

2020: (sorry Alex)

Somehow you got signed to RedBull on a year contract. Not to say you weren’t grateful for the opportunity but you were definitely a bit confused. But anyway, you let bygones be bygones and now you had a 22 year-old dutch nuisance under your wing.

He was a great kid but god, was he traumatized. You were convinced he’d never seen a healthy family dynamic, so you were more than happy to let him see how you and Kyungsoo functioned. Or at least how you functioned when he was not in the military.

You kind of felt like a life coach for the kid, telling him when he was being taken advantage of or when he should continue with something. You’d been woken up plenty of times in the middle of the night by him drunkenly whining into the phone about wanting to go “home”, something neither of you commented on when he woke up on your couch the next day.

So, safe to say, you’d practically adopted a child without the permission of your husband.

This extended to on the track as well, you’d gotten into a few mild disagreements with Jos Verstappen after his cruel comments which often involved you looking at him angrily and him shit-talking you in interviews about you being a woman. You’d often have to refrain from saying that you’d always be more of a man than him, but alas, you didn’t want to get kicked from your seat.

You knew that Max was extremely appreciative of your dynamic, even commenting on it a few times during interviews, saying that he was very happy to have you as a teammate. After that interview you almost felt like you and his lover, Daniel, were able to give him some sort of an idea of what a normal family relationship should look like.

This sentiment was definitely reinforced when a loud knocking on your Monaco apartment door happened in the early afternoon. It was a weekend with no race, so you were soaking in relaxation. You were having a nice bubble bath after having read for the whole morning, so you were hesitant to hop out of the bath.

The knocking persisted however, and with a sigh, you got out of the bath and wrapped a bathrobe around you before loudly yelling you’d be a minute. You tugged on some sweats which weren’t yours and put your hair in a towel before eventually making your way to the door.

You might’ve taken more than a minute, but it didn’t matter when you opened the door and were greeted with the image of Max Verstappen on his knees, face pressed into the expensive hallway carpet. What a sight to see, the prodigy and most highly anticipated driver of his time, lying face-first on the floor.

“What the fuck?” You asked, immediately crouching down to his level after a quick glance to see that none of your neighbors had left their apartments to check on the banging (pretentious, self-concerned people).

You rolled him over, your confusion doubling as you took in the remorseful look etched across the young man's face, almost tripling as you took in the barely concealed tears in his eyes. Your heart ached though and you pulled him up so that he was sitting on his knees.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered as your face contorted in confusion. What had happened? “Come inside Max.” You said quietly, helping him up from his spot on the floor and leading him inside, locking the door after you both. Leading him to the couch, you left him after putting the throw blanket over his shoulders, and went to make both of you a tea.

You noticed your phone constantly vibrating on your kitchen counter and quickly chucked it on do not disturb, not checking the notifications because you were more concerned with your teary teammate.

After grabbing the teas you made your way to the couch, setting them down on coasters on the coffee table, before sitting on the edge of the ‘L’ piece of the couch, so you were facing Max. You grabbed his hand from his lap where he had been nervously picking at his nail beds.

“What’s wrong Max?” You asked calmly, bringing his hand to your lap to stop him from hurting himself. He looked up at you, a few tears having rolled down his cheeks.

Whatever had happened had fucked him up. You didn’t think it was a fight with his dad, he’d sadly become pretty unresponsive to those. You briefly considered him losing his seat but shook that off, he was doing exceptionally well.

Maybe you’d lost your seat and he was sent to deliver the news. That would make more sense, especially as your phone was blowing up. You hadn’t been performing very well, but you didn’t think they’d drop you from your seat midway through the season, especially during a season as turbulent as this one.

It was the only reason that made sense though, so you prepared yourself for the news that you would be unemployed. Maybe you’d go back to F2 or maybe IndyCar? Or you could just move to South Korea and live there permanently, letting Kyungsoo fulfill his passion for acting and singing while you did a few kart races to occasionally quench your thirst for adrenaline.

That actually didn’t sound too bad, though you’d definitely have to discuss it with Kyungsoo when he got back from enlistment, which meant around 5 months of unemployment. But hey, you had the money and so did Kyungsoo.

Max snapped you from your thoughts of the future by clearing his throat.

“You don’t know?” He asked, curiously glancing up at you. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No…” You said, conveying your confusion. “Should I?”

“Have you checked your phone recently?” Yep, you were definitely getting fired. You should probably start packing now. Maybe Daniel could get his seat back? You shook your head in response to his quiet question.

“I’ve just been reading all morning.” Max nodded, a small ‘ah’ leaving his mouth as he stared at the floor. He reached for his tea, his hand leaving your lap. You narrowed your eyes at that, following his movements as he sipped, a gasp immediately leaving his throat as he burnt it.

You immediately cussed and sprung up from your couch to grab a glass of cold water, running back to the couch and giving it to Max, watching as he gulped down the glass. When he finished he turned back to you and thanked you, before pausing for a second and bursting into another round of tears. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re really freaking me out Max. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You asked gently, trying to make him catch your eye.

“Promise you won't hate me?” His small voice asked and you internally crumpled at his vulnerable question. Honestly you never thought you’d end up gentle-parenting a teammate like he was a child of yours, especially since you were only like 5 years older than him, but here you were, caring for him like family.

“Yes, I won’t hate you Max.” You repeated as he finally caught your eye. He took a deep breath before starting to speak.

“I was doing an interview for the press and they started asking questions about other drivers and my relationship to them. They then asked about you and I said that I’m really close to you and etcetera.” Ok, seems pretty normal so far. At least you weren’t getting fired, hopefully.

“And they asked if I see you more as a mother figure or a romantic interest.” He said before quickly turning his eyes away. This confused you before you clued in.

“Oh Max.” You said quietly and he turned back to you. “I’m flattered you feel that way but I am married and I am loyal-”

“No, no, no!” He said, louder than he’d ever spoken in the time since he was on the floor. His cheeks had turned bright red as he looked in your eyes.

“No, I didn’t say that I saw you romantically!” He quickly amended and you breathed a sigh of relief, smiling.

“Ok, that’s good! I didn’t want our friendship to be awkward.” You said, looking at him for a response. He just grimaced and averted his gaze. You gestured for him to go on confusedly and he began speaking again.

“And I said more like a mother-figure.” A statement which made you feel positive things you don’t want to address. “Then I may have accidentally said that, even though I haven’t met him, I see your husband as more of a father-figure as well.” He quickly rushed the last part out and you sat, stunned.

The room went silent while you processed what he told you. Fuuuuckkk. How much trouble were you going to be in? I mean the team knew, but this wasn’t something you could pass off as your grandmother's rings. This was undeniable proof that you had a husband. God press days were going to suck after this unless you could somehow make an excuse.

As time went on he seemed to collapse in on himself, the energy quickly switching to something you didn’t like.

“To be honest I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost my seat.” You said and Max’s head snapped up. “What?” He asked, disbelieving.

“Yeah I know, crazy.” You laughed, dragging out the last word, trying to establish a more relaxed aura in the room.

“No, why haven’t you kicked me out yet?” It was at times like this you really wanted to punch Jos Verstappen in the face. You made an over exaggerated confused face, hoping the fact that that had never gone through your mind was on display in your face.

“Max, why would I do that?” You asked, your voice very quickly becoming soothing.

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You’ve spent years hiding this! You should be yelling at me!” He said, standing up. You tried, in vain, to get him to sit down by gently calling him, but he started pacing.

“I’ve just ruined your chances at revealing this yourself, at ever having another peaceful day in your marriage, and all you can do is make a joke?!” He almost started yelling, clenching his fists. You got fed-up and yelled his name, calling his attention to you.

“You’re in my house as my guest. You will not tell me what to do or how to handle situations. Sit your ass down.” You yelled, your voice incredibly commanding. He followed your instructions and sat smally in front of you.

“Max. It was eventually going to come out. I don’t mind. I’d much rather it come off handedly from you than maliciously leaked by a random instagram page.” You said and he looked up, almost looking close to tears. You frowned before bringing the boy up into a hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you had to ask a question.

“You didn’t reveal who he was though, no?” You asked, still in the hug. You felt Max shake his head and you silently fistpumped behind his back. It wasn’t your fault, so it technically didn’t count and you hadn’t lost the bet.

You were right, by the way, press days were soon filled with questions about your mystery husband instead of your racing. But it was fine, you were somehow able to twist it as though you’d made a joke about having a husband and Max took it seriously.

Phew.

2021: (sorry latifi)

“And so today you will be reacting to fan edits of yourselves!” The lady behind the camera finished, prompting you and George to look at eachother. It was early in the season and, even though you’d raced together for a few years, you weren’t exactly close, being that before pre-season meetings, you hadn’t ever talked. At all.

This meant he didn’t know much about your personal life or the whole ‘husband’ thing. Which was fine, you’d tell him in your own time, when you felt your friendship was strong enough. He seemed to be a great kid, though you were determined to not adopt another grown child, especially after the look you got from Kyungsoo when you mentioned the fact you may have ‘accidentally’ had Christmas with Max Verstappen.

But hey, they had finally met during February and it was almost like a Dad saying that his daughter can’t adopt a cat while simultaneously cuddling with the cat. Kyungsoo, against his better judgment, had instantly attached to Max and now you were battling for the position of being his favourite driver. Which you were totally not bitter about (you said your favourite EXO member was Sehun in retaliation and he changed your mind very quickly).

Back to the present, the people behind the camera placed a tablet on the table in front of you. It was open on the photo gallery and you could already see some very flattering videos saved to the device.

“You wanna go first?” You asked, and George nodded before picking up the tablet and scrolling through the photo library. He closed his eyes and landed on one. Loud music immediately began playing from the device, you think ‘London Boy’ by Taylor Swift, and you both watched in varying states of horror as photos and clips of him flashed on the screen.

As the video ended you both accidentally made eye-contact. Now, as an almost 28 year old woman, the simple gesture of looking into your teammate's stricken eyes should not have made burst out laughing as hard as you did. But, god, George’s eyes were expressive. In fairness he also did laugh, though he probably was confused as to why you were laughing so much.

After you caught your breath you could only utter out,

“Your face...” Before peeling back into giggles again. He started laughing again as well before putting the tablet down. In doing so, he accidentally swiped the tablet and the Backstreet Boys started playing, an edit of the 2019 rookies playing as the video.

This chain event caused you to start gasping, the sheer ridiculousness of the videos catching up to you. George only took one look at the tears forming in your eyes before he was also wheezing out harsh breaths from laughing.

It took around 2 minutes for you to look at each other without laughing and, for you both to be able to pick up the tablet without giggling, it took another minute or so. You eventually began scrolling through the tablet, laughing at some and ‘aww’-ing at some of the sad ones.

Eventually a video came up with the background music to ‘Give it to me’ by Sistar, an edit of you that was hot but had you gasping at the lyrics.

“What?” George looked over to you, curious as to why there was another noise that came out of your mouth than laughing or a strained ‘why?’.

“The audacity!” You said, as the music continued playing.

“What..?” George asked, more confused than previously.

“Do you want to know the lyrics they’ve just edited me to?” You asked, looking over at him, your voice pretending to be offended.

“What?” He said, his tone changing again to have a sort of goading lilt.

“Will I even get married before I turn thirty.” You said with an air of finality, turning to glare at the camera, your jaw dramatically hung open. George gasped mockingly.

“How dare they!” He said sarcastically and you nodded eagerly.

“I know right!” You responded beginning a stereotypical mean girl impression. “How dare they!” After that little fiasco, you both kept scrolling and laughing (a notable example of this being when an edit of George crying came up, him pushing your shoulders as you continued to laugh).

Eventually the video was being wrapped up and George was preparing to do a sort of sign off when he paused and turned to you.

“I know we aren’t incredibly close…” He started and you prepared for a multitude of questions. You didn’t know him well enough to predict what he might say, so you went over your predisposed answers to questions in your head.

You knew he wouldn’t ask anything uncomfortable, like about your relationship status, or anything really weird, like how many socks do you wash at once. But that left a gaping probability for mildly-weird or mildly-uncomfortable questions. You hoped he wouldn’t ask that, but you were still prepared to be asked if you threw out your receipts or kept them.

“But I didn’t know you knew Korean. How did you learn?”

Oh. Fuck.

You did not have an answer for that. How the fuck did you not have an answer for that? You definitely should have had an answer for that. Oh wait, you didn’t have an answer because you promised yourself not to tell anyone that you could speak Korean so that you didn’t get that question!

The real, close-friends answer was that Kyungsoo had taught you over a range of years and that you’d taken courses so that you’d be able to talk to his friends and family. However you didn’t have a PR approved answer because you’d never thought that you’d need one. Time to put your problem solving skills to the test.

“Uhhhhh…” You said, staring confusedly at George, aware of the seconds that had passed while you were internally monologuing. You hoped your expression didn’t convey the level of gob-smacked that you felt but you think it did because George’s face contorted to be one of worry.

“If that’s a sensitive topic or something you don’t have to answer!” He quickly said as though he was trying to fix the situation. You’d later learn the George thought before your video that you were kind of ‘fucking terrifying’ (his words) and that he was scared he’d screwed up by asking you this and one of his ‘hero’s’ (his words) wouldn’t ever want to talk to him again.

“Nah, nah. It’s ok.” You waved him off, desperately trying to think of something. Oh! You knew exactly what to say.

“Basically I just have this really good friend who is Korean and I asked him to teach me for fun.” You said simply, before realising that wasn’t good enough considering your reaction.

“I was trying to hide how good I’ve gotten to try and surprise him but I guess it’s ok.” You said, a small smile on your face. George relaxed from his tense state and nodded, a small smile playing onto his lips as well.

“Ah that’s cool. Sorry to spoil the surprise.” You waved him off again and he continued the video’s outro.

Another good save, you really oughta be hired to problem-solve. And by problem-solving you mean lying to the media. And George. Poor George.

2022: (yeah the timelines don’t match, don’t call me out pls)

A loud banging sounded against your hotel door. You groaned, dropping the book onto your chest from where you held it up. Glancing angrily at the door, you rolled out of bed and stomped over to the entrance. You ripped open the door and prepared to start reaming the person on the other side before letting out a high-pitched scream.

You were in Japan for the Suzuka GP. You always didn’t like the Japanese GP because, even though you were incredibly close to Kyungsoo, your schedules never lined up so you could never see him.

That fact really grinded your gears, but it’s what you get when you try to schedule something with SM Entertainment. A decisive ‘No.’ What a great company. To be honest, was Willaims really any better?

No. No they weren’t. That mere fact infuriated you enough to make you scream. However, it wasn’t the reason you were currently screaming. That was because, standing in your doorway in the middle of the team hotel, was Kai.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, you both had busy schedules, so the man appearing on your doorstep was miraculous. You didn’t think of why he was there, or how he got there. You just threw your arms around him and gave him a hug.

“Oh my god!” You screamed, before immediately regretting it and quickly pulling him into your hotel room before someone came out of their rooms and wondered why he was in front of yours.

“Hi!” He said, laughing as he let himself be pushed into your room despite the fact he could pick you up and throw you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked changing your pulling into a hug, squeezing the younger man as though he was your child. You had a serious problem with that, treating men almost your age as children. But Kai was more of a brother than a child, to be quite frank. That distinction just meant that he really really bugged you.

“I have a concert tomorrow and I thought I might just stop in.” He said, a smile on his face. “Though it is only me, sorry.”

“That’s ok!” You said, still in disbelief one of your closest friends was on your doorstep.

“Does Kyungsoo know?” Kai smirked in response to your question. That was answer enough in itself and you slapped Kai on the shoulder.

“You should’ve told him! He might’ve come.” Kai gasped in mock offense.

“What am I not good enough? Would you really prefer your husband that much?” He continued in mock offense and you dead-panned him. He just laughed in response.

“I did have to tell the company I was coming though, and they asked me to film a TikTok with you.” He quickly rushed out and you groaned, staring at the sky. What was up with all of these people wanting you to do TikTok’s?! You had all of your team's PR people constantly chasing you with a camera and now you had Kai asking for a video.

“Fine.” You ground out and Kai grinned, purposely ignoring your annoyance.

“Fantastic!” He said and quickly whipped out his phone, launching into his plans of what to film. Your only artistic input was that he had to cool it on the filters or else you wouldn’t film.

The video started with the familiar sound of Peaches by Kai and a hand knocking on your hotel door, you opening the door curiously. As the chorus sounded, you recorded Kai dancing in your doorway, incredibly aware of the chance of any of your colleagues walking into the hallway and wondering what the fuck was going on.

The video continued after the chorus, Kai recording you slamming the door in his face with a confused expression. The video then ended with a still image of the both of you doing a heart together with your hands and you let Kai go rampant on the filters, hearts and sparkles flying around on the screen.

When you watched it back, Kai waiting at your side eagerly to see your reaction, you did your best to hide the laughing fit you had in reaction to the monstrosity. You couldn’t quite hide the gasps that were leaving you though and Kai frowned.

“It’s perfect. I love it.” You said, through your giggles and he smiled.

“I know. It’s fantastic.” You only nodded because you couldn’t trust yourself to talk, a small whine escaping through your lips at the struggle of not laughing.

“Do you want to see the caption?” He asked and you violently nodded your head.

“Please.”

“P15 but still P1 EXO-L.” He read out and you just hung your jaw open. “You bastard!” You laughed out.

“I put it in Korean as well.” Your only response was to hit him, hard, while still laughing and shaking your head.

“Should we run it by your PR team before posting?” Kai asked, taking a serious note. You looked to him and sucked in air through your teeth.

“Nahhhh.” You replied and he shrugged, and clicked post.

“I should probably tell Kyungsoo you were here before he finds out through the internet.” You said, reaching for your phone. Kai nodded vehemently.

One phone call later, an angry Kyungsoo and an apologetic Kai later, the TikTok was making its rounds and your phone was blowing up, your poor PR agent about to have a heart attack.

On that delightful note Kai left your hotel room, farewelled with a minute long hug and a well-wish for his concert, and you were left to phone your PR agent who just screamed into the phone for 10 seconds before actually speaking.

Of course, during the press releases for the rest of the season, you talked about how much of an EXO-L you were and how close of a friend you were to Kai. This didn’t come without dating rumours but, due to one poorly angled camera shot of your disgusted face when a reporter suggested dating to your face, that was shut down pretty quickly.

Still no one had shipped you with the other EXO members though, so you weren’t even close to losing the bet. (Though you had been asked which EXO member was your favourite, which you responded to with a smirk.)

2023:

It was a good race, you finishing P4 which was a huge improvement since last season. Your team was on top of the moon as were you, smiling from ear to ear. You were currently in the press area, getting asked questions left and right about the car and your performance.

You were adequately responding to each question, sometimes looking questioningly your PR agent when you weren’t sure how to respond. A loud crash sounded through the area that drew the attention of most in the area as a reporters chair fell to the ground. They had jumped up at something on their phone and, like everyone else in the pen, you were wondering what had them so fired up.

Then their eyes darted up and made eye-contact with you. Your internal monologue quickly changed from questioning to a repeated loop of ‘Oh no. Oh no.’ as they advanced your way, moving like a predator stalks their prey. They thrusted their phone under your nose, the shitty little mic attached to it capturing every breath you took and the many cameras in the area capturing your wide eyes.

The reporter addressed you by name before starting to speak.

“Do you know of a man by the name Doh Kyungsoo?” They asked and your world cracked. What on earth had happened? How did they know? All you knew was that it was time for the one acting class your mum had made you take to try and sway you from racing to come to full effect.

“I think he’s from that band Kai’s in, yeah?” You responded after a second of fake pondering. The reporter's eyes narrowed like a hawk.

“You wouldn’t say you were close? Not close enough to get married perhaps?” The reporter asked, clearly trying to stir the pot. Oh my god, was this a prank? How the fuck did they know? How were you supposed to play this off? Would this jeopardize your career?

“Uhhm no…?” You said, incredulously, fixing them a scandalized stare. They sarcastically nodded.

“Oh really? Then what’s this?” They said and shoved their phone closer to your face till you saw a picture of you and Kyungsoo on your wedding day. How did they get this? Had one of your small circle leaked something?

You tried not to let the bewilderment you felt show on your face.

“I’m sorry? Are you trying to pass this off as real? It’s obviously photoshopped! I’m so tired of people trying to fabricate a story of me dating every person I’ve interacted with!” You finally snapped, letting a few years of pent up tension out in this moment. The reporter only continued to smirk.

“Oh really!” They said and you wanted to punch them and their snooty little face. To try and display this, your face fell into one of contempt.

“Is that why this image was posted to Doh Kyungsoo’s official instagram account with the caption ‘Sorry for making you lie to the press for eight years!’?”

They got you there, dam.

Your jaw dropped open, the corners of your mouth rising at the pure hilarity of this situation.

“Excuse me?” You asked, grabbing the phone off the reporter and tapping back onto the post. They were right, Kyungsoo had posted to his official instagram that exact post. It was a carousel post with pictures taken of when you’d lied to the press about him, from the initial lying about being in Seoul to a picture of your ringed necklace to a picture of you smirking after being asked which EXO member was your favourite.

You couldn’t help but release a laugh, your hand traveling to cover your open mouth. Why did he post this?

Wait.

This meant you won the bet. Your head shot up to stare at a camera.

“I won the bet.” You said quietly. The reporter snatched their phone back and stared at you confused.

“What?” They asked and you whipped your head to them, a large smile spreading across your face.

“I won the bet!” You said eagerly, reaching out to grab their shoulders and rock them back and forth.

“I won the bet!!” You ignored how they shook you off, turning to your PR Agent instead and grabbing them and lifting them up. They hurriedly tapped your back as you lifted them, as though signaling you to drop them, but you ignored that and started spinning them around.

“I actually can’t believe it, oh my god!” You snapped out of it and dropped your PR Agent, immediately running out of the media pen and back to your driver room, pulling your necklace out of your racesuit and pulling your rings off, placing them back on their correct fingers.

You quickly packed everything up, ignoring the ringing of your phone as your team tried to get you to go to more press conferences and briefings, and you got out of there, on the first plane to Seoul you could book.

When you arrived, after a long plane trip filled with excitement and pictures being taken of you, decked out in your team's merchandise as you sat buzzing in your seat, your phone was completely blowing up, messages from everyone in your contact list and more. You turned it off (you’d deal with it later) after calling an uber to your apartment.

You were jittery the whole ride, hoping that, despite the time of night, Kyungsoo was still awake. When you arrived outside your apartment building, you felt all the tension in your body ease, and you looked up to see the light on in your window. You smiled and took your suitcase handle in hand and ventured into the building, greeting the old lady at the desk.

Riding the lift up to your apartment nearly had you pacing and you almost ran down the hallway towards your door, quickly knocking. You felt the reverberations in the floorboards as Kyungsoo walked over to the door and a sense of euphoria filled you at the familiarity.

The door was barely open before you launched yourself at Kyungsoo, his heavenly laughter filled your ears as he caught you. You quickly found yourself in a kiss before pulling back and peppering kisses all over his face, finding his giggles more lovely than his singing.

You both pulled back just to look in eachothers eyes and you smiled simultaneously.

“I love you.” You muttered, the happiness from the day finally catching up to you.

“I love you too.” He whispered, tilting his head before going in for another kiss.

“You know.” He began later that night, when you were just lying in bed cuddling together. You turned your head from its position on his chest to look at him, his eyes remaining on the roof.

“I think I won in the end.” You immediately reared your head back, prepared to object at the sheer wrongness of his answer. He anticipated this though and dropped his hand from where it was combing through your hair to your mouth. He also dropped his head as to make eye contact.

“You stuck by me through everything. Even though you had to lie almost every day and had to listen to millions of rumours about me with other people, you still stayed with me. You learned a whole other language just to know people who knew me. Nothing I will ever say will ever put into perspective how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. The way you’ve loved me will be comparable to nothing other than how much I’ve loved you.” His heartfelt speech made your head vibrate and a few tears left your eyes at his words, him kissing each one away.

You whined deep in the back of your throat and he released a laugh at your response.

“You could’ve just said ‘I love you’.” You said quietly.

“That’s true too.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

ahh it's over! dividers from this post btw, it's 11:59 pm let me sleep.

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mrprettywhenhecries · 1 month ago

Text

run rabbit, run [g.t]

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

✝︎ w.c. 3.7k words ✝︎ a/n. I wanted to write a few spooky oneshots for kinktober, focusing on kinks I've never written before, and this is (hopefully 🤞) the first of three. ✝︎ tags/warnings. canon x oc pairing, fem!oc, predator/prey, hair pulling, spitting degradation, spanking, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, outdoor sex, creampie, slight gunplay (if you squint) ✝︎ credit. barbed wire divider {x}

After a disappointing corn maze, Gator proposes a more thrilling game and Win is all too willing to play.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Oh my God, that was so lame,” Win exclaimed, though she wore a grin on her face as she and Gator stepped out of the corn maze, the sound of screams and laughter punctuating the night air behind them.

“You can’t tell me you weren’t scared,” Gator scoffed, slinging an arm around her shoulders when he noticed her shiver and pull her thin jacket closer. “You screamed your head off and hid behind me every time someone in a mask jumped out at us,” he pointed out, scowling as some teenagers pushed past, nearly running into him.

Win jerked her chin defiantly and shot him a sharp look. “I’m not saying I wasn’t scared,” she huffed, “but there’s a difference between a cheap scare, like a jump scare and true terror,” she insisted, leading Gator toward the exit, the scent of popcorn and sweet roasted pecans from the food carts nearby surrounding them.

“You’re the only person I know that actually likes being scared,” Gator snorted, stopping to get Win a caramel apple for the road.

“It’s not that weird,” she huffed, climbing into the passenger seat of his truck. “As long as you’re not in any real danger, it can be pretty exciting.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Gator mused, twisting his key in the ignition. “I’ve heard fear can be an aphrodisiac too,” he added, glancing over at her pointedly.

“Oh, you’ve heard that, have you?” Win laughed, freeing her treat from it’s plastic wrapping and giving it a taste.

Gator tilted his head, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug, though a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

“It’s not like I didn’t have fun though,” Win added, laying her arm across the console to thread her fingers between Gator’s, smiling softly when he gave her hand a squeeze. “I just wished it would’ve had more… ambience.”

Gator nodded to himself as an idea took root.

“What’re we doing here?” Win asked, sitting up straighter in her seat as Gator turned onto the lane to the ranch.

“Just gotta grab a couple things from the house real quick,” Gator answered cryptically, pulling up in front of the dark farmhouse. “Be right back,” he assured her as he threw the truck in park and jumped out, hurrying up to the porch and disappearing inside.

A minute later, the front window on the second floor lit up and Win could see Gator’s shadow moving about his room. It only took him a few more minutes before the light switched off and he was back out the door and striding toward the truck, carrying something in his hand. It wasn’t until he yanked the door open that Win realized what it was.

“Is that a paintball gun?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice, noting that he’d only grabbed one.

“Yep.” Gator answered simply, stowing the gun in the backseat and tossing Win his heavy camo hoodie. “Put that on,” he instructed, climbing back behind the wheel and turning the truck around. "You're gunna need it."

“Gator, what are we doing?” Win huffed, though she shrugged off her jacket to pull the sweatshirt over her head. Gator’s scent still clung to it and she took a moment to bury her nose in the soft fabric, breathing him in.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” he replied, wearing a smug grin.

He didn’t drive far, their destination only a few miles from the ranch, and Gator pulled off onto a narrow dirt path nestled between a patch of woods and a corn field, parking just out of sight of the road.

“Now are you gunna tell me what we’re doing?” Win asked, peering out the window as Gator cut the engine, excitement prickling her insides.

“Well, you said you wanted to be scared,” he answered, turning to look at her, his lips curving impishly.

“I did say that,” Win mused, wetting her lips, anticipation bubbling in her stomach.

“I thought we could play a little game,” Gator continued, arching an amused brow at her from under the brim of his cap before pushing his door open and grabbing the paintball gun.

“And what sort of game would that be?” Win asked, hurrying to follow him, thankful for his hoodie as she left the warmth of the truck cab, though the trees helped to cut the wind some.

Gator checked something on his gun before answering, stepping into Win’s space to smirk down at her.

“I’ll be the predator... and you’ll be the prey,” he drawled, watching her through hooded eyes. “I’ll even give you a two minute head start.”

Win swallowed, her eyes darting to the gun in his hand. “You’re not gunna actually shoot me with that, are you?”

Gator shrugged. “Not if you’re quick enough.”

The condescension in his voice made her squirm, annoyed at how much it turned her on.

“And what exactly are you gunna do when you catch me?” she asked, stepping closer, a challenge flashing in her stormy eyes.

Gator’s lips twitched, pleased at her choice of words.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out,” he drawled, the promise in his heavy lidded gaze sending heat pooling low in Win’s stomach.

“Ready for your head start?”

“You better give me the full two minutes,” she warned, and Gator started a timer on his watch.

“You better get going,” he exclaimed, and Win took off, sprinting for the treeline, glad for the cloudless sky and the nearly full moon hanging overhead.

Even after passing under the cover of the foliage, the night was still light enough that she could easily see the path ahead, though it occurred to her that that would only make it easier for Gator to see her as well.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath, stopping to scan her surroundings–she needed to find some place to hide, and quick.

She could feel the seconds slipping away and though she knew it was only a glorified game of hide and seek and it was only Gator hunting her, her heart fluttered like a rabbit’s, hammering against the inside of her ribcage while her pulse thundered in her ears, the adrenaline flooding her making her feel alive.

Spotting a large bush growing next to a cluster of trees a few yards away, Win hurried toward it, dropping to her knees to crawl under its branches just as she heard Gator’s voice in the distance.

“Your two minutes are up, Winnie! I’m comin’ for ya.”

The crunch of Gator’s boots grew louder as he approached and Win shrank back further into the bushes, holding her breath and hoping the shadows were deep enough to obscure her. Somewhere overhead an owl cried and Gator stopped mere feet from her hiding place, his head swiveling, searching, and part of Win itched to jump from the brush and take him by surprise, turning the tables just to prove she could—but then she’d lose the satisfaction of being caught.

And for once, she wanted to be caught.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to make it easy for him.

After what felt like an eternity, Gator finally moved on, holding his gun at the ready. Once he was out of sight, Win slipped out from her cover, hesitating long enough to crane her head the way he’d gone before sneaking off in the opposite direction, picking her way carefully through the underbrush.

Confident she’d lost him, she let out the breath she’d been holding and began moving faster, less carefully, thinking to double back toward the truck when a loud snap–almost deafening in the silence–echoed through the woods and she froze, her blood running cold as she looked down at the broken stick beneath her foot.

“Fuck,” she grimaced, straining to listen for Gator’s footsteps over the rush of blood in her ears, foolishly hoping he’d been far enough out of earshot to have heard her blunder.

Two sharp cracks ripped through the silence, exploding bright green against the tree next to her and a startled cry burst from her lungs, jolting her into motion. Without a second thought, she took off sprinting, realizing too late that she was being forced out of the woods and toward the cornfield. If she turned to run along the drive between the two, his next shot surely wouldn’t miss–for all of Gator’s shortcomings, marksmanship wasn't one of them.

Breaking out of the treeline, Win leapt headlong into the corn rows as she heard Gator fire off another couple rounds. Though the dry corn was harder to move stealthily through, it was better than no cover at all.

Angling her body to maneuver through the narrow rows, the brittle corn leaves whipped against her face, forcing her to slow and it wasn’t long before Gator could be heard behind her.

“Where are ya, Winnie?” he called, whistling for her like a dog, and she could practically hear the smug smirk playing at his lips. “It’s no use tryin’ to hide. You know I’m gunna find you.”

Win stopped, gasping for breath, and turned to listen for the rustle of corn as Gator stalked her, trying to get an idea of how close he was, which direction he was coming from.

“C’mon Win, we both know how much you want me to catch you. For such a feisty bitch, you sure like it when I have you helpless. Bet it has you drippin’ just thinkin’ about it,” he drawled, using the barrel of his gun to part the stalks as he prowled the rows, searching for her.

A harsh gasp left her lips as she caught a flash of movement to her right and Win quickly clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped, crouching low, hoping Gator would be more focused on what was ahead of him rather than scanning the ground.

“When I catch you, I’m gunna fuck you like the little whore you are, right out in the middle of the woods–”

A soft groan caught in Win’s throat at the thought, desire pulsing through her, but as much as she wanted it, she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. After all, the chase, the mounting tension, only made it that much hotter.

Keeping an eye on the spot she’d seen movement, Win began to creep forward slowly, circling Gator’s position as she fought to avoid rustling the stalks too much, hoping his own movement would mask any sounds she made.

“How long you plan on keeping this up for?” Gator called, stopping once more to scan the field, tilting his head to listen.

Win grimaced, her jaw clenching as her shoulder brushed against a stalk, the leaves rustling loudly in the sudden silence and Gator’s head snapped toward her.

“Gotcha.”

Giving up on stealth, Win scrambled in the dirt for purchase, pushing herself up to make a break for it, Gator right on her heels.

She could hear his breath loud in her ears, or was it her own?

For one brief moment the moon shone brightly overhead before she was back in the woods, the moonlight filtering down in patches amid the shadows. Not daring to look back over her shoulder, she weaved through the trees, her heart pounding hard in her chest. For a moment she thought she might outrun Gator, not quite as fast as he once was back before his football accident, until she tripped.

Catching a large root just right with the toe of her boot, time seemed to slow as she went sprawling, arms windmilling uselessly before landing hard on the ground with a grunt.

“Shit–” she hissed, hastily pushing herself to her feet, but it was too late.

“Freeze.”

Something pressed into Win’s back between her shoulder blades and she froze, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Good girl,” Gator murmured behind her, his breath fanning across the back of her neck, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

Gator slowly circled her, a smirk tugging at lips.

“You ready to give up? You put up a pretty good fight, but let’s face it, I’ve got you cornered, sweetheart,” he drawled, peering down his nose at her, radiating smug satisfaction as he trailed the muzzle of his gun between Win’s legs, his lips twitching as she squirmed.

There was a look in his eyes that thrilled her, that made her burn for him—her cunt aching for him to fill it.

“You gunna answer me?” he prompted and Win swallowed, slowly nodding.

“I give up. You win,” she said, hanging her head so Gator couldn’t see the flash of defiance in her eyes.

As soon as he stepped closer, letting his guard down,—thinking he’d won—she struck, knocking the paintball gun from his hands and they struggled, tumbling to the ground.

Wrestling frantically, kicking at the dirt and leaves, the two rolled, grunting and panting, until Gator came out on top, his cap knocked from his head and his slicked back hair falling in his eyes as he pinned her by the wrists.

“Shit—“ he gasped, catching his breath as he held her still, hovering over her. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t go down that easy,” he breathed, a pleased grin twisting his lips, turning pink from the cold.

“That’s my firecracker,” he chuckled, his heavy lidded eyes roaming her face. “It’s so much hotter when you put up a fight,” he drawled, leaning in to kiss her deeply, his tongue demanding against hers and Win groaned as his cock throbbed against her hip, trapped beneath his cargo pants.

Gator echoed her moan as their tongues clashed and Win bit down hard on his lip, his moan turning to a hiss of pain.

“Ow, Jesus—“ he hissed, releasing one of her wrists to gingerly touch his lip, a trace of blood staining his fingertips, though a ghost of a smile curved his lips at her display of defiance.

“Now you’ve really done it,” he drawled, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

Win’s breath hitched as Gator sat up, his fingers fumbling at the button of her jeans, hastily working them down her hips along with her thin panties. As soon as the chill air hit her bare skin, she gasped, but Gator only grinned, his gaze dropping to her exposed sex.

“Fuckin’ knew it,” he groaned, admiring the way her folds glistened wetly in the moonlight, dragging two fingers between them to gather her juices before lifting his hand to show her, pulling his fingers apart to watch her slick stretch between them in silvery strands.

“You’re fuckin’ drippin’, Winnie,” he drawled, pressing his fingers to her lips till she opened her mouth to suck them clean, moaning low in her throat at the taste. “Looks like you’re enjoying this as much as I am.”

Win could only nod in response, swirling her tongue around his digits. Gator’s head fell back with a groan as he palmed himself with his free hand – his cock beginning to strain painfully against the stiff fabric of his pants.

“Shit, you’re like a bitch in heat,” he muttered, swallowing thickly, and Win pulled his fingers from her mouth with a soft pop.

“Jesus Gator, you gunna fuck me or just talk about it?” Win huffed, her eyes flashing impishly. “You’re supposed to be the predator, right? Devour me,” she breathed, pushing up to her elbows as she held his lust drenched gaze.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathed, rocking back on his heels to roll her onto her belly and hoist her onto all fours before fumbling his cock free, hissing at the cold. Win gasped as Gator pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her face down against the ground, ass still in the air, and her cunt throbbed at how easily he manhandled her.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still,” Gator grunted, grabbing the fat of her ass to part her cheeks, pursing his lips and spitting against her puckered hole. Win gave a jerk, half pushing up, Gator’s name on her lips like a warning until her gave her ass a sharp swat, the palm of his hand stinging from the impact and Win gave another jolt, gasping in surprise.

“What’d I say about staying still?” he exclaimed, grabbing her hips to pull her back into position. “I ain’t goin’ in that hole, so calm down,” he added in assurance.

“You better fuckin’ not,” Win muttered, but lowered her head obediently.

Gator grinned, caressing the red welt he’d left on her ass cheek before pausing to spit again, biting his lip as he watched his saliva roll between her folds to mix with the sticky arousal that was already practically dripping down her thighs.

Gripping his cock at the base, he guided the tip to her entrance, groaning as he pressed into her tight wet heat, watching raptly as she sucked him in, her greedy little cunt stretching around him like it was meant to take his cock.

Win echoed Gator’s moan, pressing her forehead to the ground as she arched back against him impatiently, urging him deeper, feeling every vein and ridge as she squeezed around him.

“Oh fuck– eager little rabbit, huh?” Gator panted, thrusting sharply the rest of the way, forcing a breathy gasp from Win’s lips as he bottomed out. “C’mon, I know you can take me better than that,” he taunted, condescension dripping from his words as he thrust sharply into her again, tightening his grasp on her hips to hold her steady as he began to pound into her, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.

With each swift rut, Win’s body bounced forward with the impact, the lewd rhythmic slap of skin against skin filling the air, competing only with their heavy breaths and moans.

Digging her fingers into the earth, her cheek pressed to the cold ground, Win had never felt so deliciously helpless, so like an animal ensnared by its captor, unable to fight back even had she wanted to. With each thrust, each jolt of her body, Gator’s cock dragged against that sensitive spot inside her that made her head swim, and she moaned, his name tumbling from her lips deliriously, uncaring about the noise in their seclusion. She barely even felt the sting of the cold against her exposed flesh.

“Fuck, Win—“ Gator groaned, almost a whine, his pleasure swiftly building, compressing the spring in his gut til he was afraid it might snap. Tangling his hand in a fistful of her hair, he gave a sharp tug, forcing her head up as he leaned over her, his lips close to her ear.

“Who owns this pussy?” he hissed, his breath hot against the curve of her jaw.

“You do—!“ Win gasped, the pain in her scalp mixing with the pleasure that coursed through her, hovering just out of reach.

“Damn straight,” Gator grunted, gritting his teeth, his movements growing jerky, desperate. “You gunna be good and cum for me?” he asked, the strain in his voice evident.

Win tried to nod before remembering his grasp on her hair and she winced. “Fuck, yes, please—“ she begged, wetting her lips, and it was all Gator needed to hear.

Desperate to push her over the edge, he released her hair to awkwardly wrap his arm around her, slipping his hand between her legs to search for her clit as he rut into her frantically, rubbing sloppy circles against her bundle of nerves. The effect was nearly instantaneous, the added stimulation pushing her off the ledge and into the deep end, and Win came with a keening cry, her body tensing violently.

“Shit, Win, fuckfuckfuckkkk—!” Gator echoed, falling headlong with her into the abyss, his hips stuttering as Win clenched impossibly tighter around him, milking him dry with each deep thrust until he finally stilled, cock still twitching as her walls pulsed and fluttered around him with the after shocks of her climax.

Panting heavily, he dropped his head to her shoulder with a ragged breath, his arm around her the only thing holding her up. Despite the cold, sweat beaded on Gator’s forehead, his shirt sticking to him beneath his coat.

Win, however, trembled beneath him and he hastily pulled out of her, watching his spend seep from her spent hole for a moment before pushing it back between her folds with his fingers and pulling her panties back up.

“Can’t lose any of that, huh?” she chuckled weakly, pulling her jeans back up while Gator hastily tucked himself back into his cargo pants, still wet with their combined fluids. "Love the thought of you filled with me," he murmured.

Once dressed, the two of them collapsed to the ground together, Win fitting against Gator’s side as if she was molded just for him, seeking any warmth she could find and he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“So, that was pretty fun,” he chuckled, looking down at her.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, glancing up at him through her eyelashes, his body heat not quite enough to chase away the chill that had seeped into her from the ground. “Next time I wanna hunt you though,” she teased, shivering.

Gator snorted. “Not a chance,” he replied, shaking his head, briefly wondering where his cap had fallen, the tip of his nose and ears growing numb from the cold.

“That’s not fair,” Win huffed lightly, snuggling closer, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

“Yeah it is,” Gator countered, frowning slightly at how she trembled in his arms. “C’mon, let’s go back to the truck and warm up, and we can argue more about it when your teeth aren’t chattering.”

Win rolled her eyes, but nodded, letting Gator help her to her feet. Crouching to snatch his hat and tug it back on his head, he grabbed his paintball gun from where Win had knocked it from his hands.

“Ready?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her close till they got to the truck. “Ready,” she agreed, clinging to him as they walked. “But don’t think our discussion is over,” she warned lightly.

“You just wanna shoot me with a paintball,” Gator snorted.

“Maybe,” Win conceded with a grin. As much as she enjoyed being his prey, she couldn’t deny how much she liked the thought of hunting him next time.

✝︎ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @sailorskunk @thecatkingsthrone @thecreelhouse

@girlwiththerubyslippers @professionalpromqueen @buckysgrace

#gator tillman #gator tillman x oc #fargo season 5 #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfic #oc: win lewis #otp: wingator #joz.fic #kinktober 2024

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12romy · 1 year ago

Note

33, 94 Miles and Lewis hehe 😘

Awwww what a cute prompt!!! So 33 is Baby fic and 94 is hair braiding! You get a mini fic for it, here we gooooo

Enjoy 😘

Their daughter has their hair. It isn't really surprising, and Lewis loves that she is the perfect mix of himself and Miles - although, she's going to be tall, he can tell, taller than him. He's already fretting the teasing he'll get, when she'll have caught up with him.

No, the thing with her hair, is that it's thin, fuzzy, and curly, and it takes ages and a lot of care to get it under control. Worst than his or Miles.

He understands why Miles keeps his own short. As for him, he never did it himself. It was always someone else braiding it for him.

At first, professional hair dressers. For the past few years, it has been Miles.

Which is a good thing, actually, because Miles has a lot of practice, thanks to this, and he is able to tame their daughter's hair so easily that Lewis is almost jealous.

Lewis tried, really. It just takes so long, it's so precise and so complicated, however, that he ended up giving up. Mostly, his daughter asked him to stop because it hurt, and it didn't even look pretty - kids could be cruel, but she had a fair point.

Since then, Lewis is content to simply be watching Miles braid her hair, then ask for his turn. Miles always smiles softly, and nods.

#lewis/miles #prompt game #send asks!#f1 rpf

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lvis44 · 2 years ago

Text

Sweet Escape - Pt. 3 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, 18+ (mentions of sexual acts), angst, minor injury, alcohol consumption, age difference, jealousy, not edited

Word Count: 5.1k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: A lot of reflection and angst coming for you in this one! I still can't stick with a singular tense so once again, ignore that lol. Thank you all so much for all the love, I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two

You could cut the tension with a knife. The volleyball tournament was in full swing and Lewis was doing his absolute best to ignore you in entirety. Not that you particularly wanted his attention at this moment, but he was making it rather obvious to everyone else that something was up between the two of you. You were doing your best to ref the games like Miles had asked, and you felt like you were starting to get the hang of it. It didn’t go unnoticed to anyone that if a call had anything to do with Lewis, he wouldn’t respond in any way, he wouldn’t even look over at you. To the untrained eye it would look like he was simply a sore loser, which to be fair he could be sometimes, but everyone knew that if things were normal, he would be taunting you and throwing things back at you any chance he got. Your heart ached while your mind burned with rage. It had only been a few hours and you already missed him, missed the energy he always carried when he was around you, but with a horny brain, he swiftly ruined it.

Talia had made the ridiculous choice to come down and spend her day on the beach as well. She was sprawled out on a towel like a house cat in a kitchen window. Thankfully, she had set up her stuff further down the beach, far enough that you wouldn’t have to interact with her at all. You couldn’t help but find it both amusing and sickening that on this beach, there were two women that Lewis had slept with, or at least tried to, and now both women were livid. For a man that usually got anything and anyone he wanted, the last three days definitely hadn’t been much of a winning streak for him. You wanted to imagine that his ego was at least bruised, but you knew better than that, he was probably just looking at it as another drop in the bucket. You would both be replaced the second he made it home, hell you could probably be replaced before then.

You were watching the game from your camp chair, trying your best to pay attention, but irritatingly enough, your focus kept returning to Lewis. No matter how mad you were, your brain wouldn’t let you ignore just how attractive he was. This was no time for those thoughts to be bouncing around in your head, you needed to keep his actions in the forefront of your mind, but watching him was inevitable. He was glistening with sweat, his tattoos more prominent in the sheen. His torso was speckled with sand from the times he had tried to dive for the ball and landed flat on his stomach, his swim trunks had started to ride up on one of his thighs, showing off the thick muscles. You were so engrossed in staring at the man who had all your emotions haywire, that you didn’t notice that Miles had accidentally punted the ball directly towards you.

“Shit, heads up.” You heard him yell, but it was too late as the ball made contact directly with the side of your head.

You let out a shriek before you groaned ,”Fuck.’ Grabbing the side of your head where the ball had collided.

Within seconds, everyone had crowded around you. To your surprise, Lewis was the first one there, on his knees in front of you immediately. His eyes held so much concern as they looked over you as if he was making sure you were in one piece.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” His voice was rushed but soft as he reached out to place his hand over yours on your head, his other hand grabbing your other arm. Any other day you would have been overwhelmed with comfort, but in this moment it just made your head hurt more.

“I’m fine.” Your voice had a bite to it as you brushed him off, moving to try to stand up. You hoped that your aggressive tone would be read as annoyance to getting slammed with a Volleyball.

“Take a second.” Charlotte said softly, placing her hand on your shoulder to push you gently back into the chair.

“I’m so sorry,” Miles said from behind you, his hand coming to rest on your other shoulder, giving it a light pat, “I really didn’t mean to, I would never hurt you on purpose. I feel so bad.”

“It’s okay, it was an accident. I should have been paying more attention.” You reach up to grab his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Well I guess you were right, Volleyball really does end in concussions for you, even when you’re not playing apparently.” Miles laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

“Apparently,” You laugh with him, “I’m gonna go sit in the shade for a little bit, you guys keep playing.”

They all move back a bit to let you stand this time.

“Are you sure? We can head back up to the house if you want.” Charlotte offers, still looking worried.

“No, you guys keep playing, it’s still early. I’ll just be over there,” You gesture your head over towards a shady spot near the path, “and I promise I’ll keep an eye out for runaway balls this time.”

You turn to grab your chair but Lewis has already picked it up and is walking over toward the spot you had mentioned. You realize you unfortunately have no choice but to follow him. As you come up behind him you feel nothing but dread, you don’t want to talk to him right now, about anything really. He wordlessly places your chair in the shade before making his way over to the cooler full of drinks. He comes back with a cold water and a frosty can of something.

“Drink this,” He says putting the water in the little cupholder on the arm of your chair before extending the can to you, “and put this on your head for a little bit.”

You take the can, mumbling a quiet “thanks”. You hope that will be it, that he’ll turn and rejoin the rest of your friends, however, much to your dismay, he squats down in front of you. He holds your eyes with his, staring at you deeply.

“Are you sure you're okay?” His voice is so full of concern that it makes you want to yell at him, instead you just let out a scoff.

“That’s a pretty weighted question right now Lewis.” You say as you shoot him a look.

He grimaces before he shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I-” He starts before he cuts himself off, “Right now I’m worried about your head, that ball is hard and it came in pretty hot. Everything else can wait.”

All you can do is roll your eyes, looking over his shoulder at the ocean.

“I’ve had a fair amount of head injuries myself, I know what to look for, can I?” He continues, doing his best to ignore your attitude.

“Well that explains a lot.” You fire back, finally looking at him again.

You could be wrong but you swear you see an almost smirk on his face as he shakes his head. He raises his eyebrows at you in question, prompting you to actually answer him.

“Fine.” You huff, lowering the can to your side.

He moves in closer to you, just barely, and you can feel yourself tense. He goes through a variety of little tests; making you follow his finger with your eyes, shining his phone's flashlight at your pupils, having you answer stupid questions about yourself and historical events.

“I think you’re alright,” He says with a soft smile as he moves back, patting the outside of your knee, “might have a small bump though.”

“Thanks.” Your voice comes out as barely a whisper as you try to offer the same smile back at him.

He stares at you for a moment longer, making you want to squirm in your seat. He’s looking at you with such care and concern, as if he’s assessing every ounce of you, physical and emotional.

“I really am sorry,” He says softly, “I don’t want to lose you.”

His words make your heart clench but the anger comes back to the surface as you're reminded of the situation he’s put you both in.

“I’m not doing this right now.” You say firmly, attempting to shut him down. This isn’t the time for the conversation you need to have, especially not when his ex is down the beach and all your friends are waiting for him mere feet away.

He nods solemnly, a small frown on his face as he stands up. He takes a few steps backward before pausing, “Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

You simply nod before he turns and runs back toward everyone. You take the time to enjoy the beautiful view of the coast, listening to the sound of the waves crashing in harmony with the joyous laughter of your friends. It’s melancholy, you can already feel a sense of longing for something you haven’t truly lost yet. You’re overcome with a sense of worry, it feels like nothing can ever be the same. You’re worried that you won’t be able to be around him anymore, that he won’t want to be around you and your friends will have to take sides. You know they all love you, but they’ve known him for nearly a decade, you’re still in many senses, a newcomer. Part of you knows it irrational, he evidently still cares about you, but how long will that last before the awkward exchanges and anger override the history of friendship between the two of you. You know Miles and Charlotte would never truly abandon you, but you can’t help but feel nothing will ever be the same.

As you tried to work through your emotions, you felt someone’s presence at the base of the trail. She spoke before you could even turn your head to look at her.

“I’m headed up to finish packing.” She said, you figured she would leave it there but to your surprise she continued, “How’s your head? That looked like a nasty hit.”

You couldn’t mask the shock that was written across your face, she sounded almost compassionate.

“Uh, it’s fine, thanks.” You stuttered out, confused by the interaction.

“Well make sure you keep ice on it, you don’t want a bump.” She offered you a small smile, confusing you even more. Once again you thought that would be the end of the conversation, but no, “And hey, don’t fall for it,” She gestured her head over toward where Lewis was, “it’s amazing until it’s not. You’ll get hurt.”

With that, she simply walks away up the path, leaving you stunned.

. . .

Everyone is working on making dinner, the house full of music and laughter as Charlotte bosses people around the kitchen. You had tried to help but Miles deemed you “far too injured for manual labor” and parked you on a bar stool at the kitchen island. You had managed to sneak into Lewis’ room, grabbing your stuff and putting it in Charlottes so you could shower without worrying you would run into him. She had given you a questioning look but hadn’t said a word, leaving you to get freshened up. Lewis was nowhere to be seen, you figured he was showering, getting ready to bring Talia to the airport. You’re still not sure why he had offered to drive her, but whatever got her as far away as possible as soon as possible was fine by you. The interaction from earlier was still running through your head on repeat. Her behavior had been almost alien, nothing you had seen from her in the past. Part of you wondered if she was still trying to keep him for herself, scare you away from him, or was she truly offering you advice. Not that you needed it, you were pretty confident you didn’t need to hear it to know what she said was true, which is why the situation hurts so much.

“Turn the heat down! You’re gonna burn it!” Charlotte just about shrieked as she hip checked Daniel away from his pan, quickly taking over.

He laughed, putting his hands up in false defeat as he made his way over to the bar, happy to be kicked off dinner duty. You gave him an accusatory look, laughing when he shrugged with a smirk, you know he had done it on purpose. You heard the rolling of wheels coming down the hall, Talia emerging with her packed luggage. She gave everyone an awkward smile, holding her hand up in a wave before making a b-line to the front door, not saying a word. Miles looked like he wanted to burst out in laughter, Charlotte elbowing him in the ribs with a glare despite the smirk on her own face. Shortly after, Lewis came down the hall, his keys in hand. He was dressed nice, much nicer than everyone else who was preparing for a night in. He had a colorful silk shirt on, most of the top buttons undone, paired with a pair of perfectly fitted black slacks and dress shoes. He had lots of jewelry on, much more than you’d seen on him in the last few days, a large watch perched on his wrist.

“Well don’t you look spiffy.” Steph teased him, taking a sip of her wine.

“I’m headed to the airport to drop off Talia.” He announced, ignoring Steph.

“Quite the fit for airport duties Bruv.” Miles continued the teasing.

“I’m going out after.” He kept his explanation short, clearly annoyed that he was being questioned at all.

“What?” Charlotte exclaimed, whipping around, “We’re in the middle of making dinner. Not to mention it’s fucking vegan because of you.” She pointed a finger at him.

“Sorry, throw some cream in it or something.” His voice was full of sarcasm and you could tell he was on edge.

“That’s not the point Lewis, you could have told us sooner.” Charlotte stayed strong, her hands on her hips like an accusing mother.

“I’m going to get dinner with-” He hesitated, his eyes shooting around the room before continuing, “with a friend.” He rushed the last bit of his sentence out.

“Oh.” Charlotte seemed content, a look of understanding crossing her face.

“Yeeeahh,” Daniel drawled out, “I’m suuure you are. Dinner.” He chuckled into his glass.

Your stomach flipped at his comment, you wanted to believe that he really was just getting dinner with a friend but the knowing tone from Daniel made you second guess it. The look of guilt on Lewis’ face didn’t help either. You wanted to believe he was a better man than that, but his actions over the last few days have proven otherwise. You wondered if the friend was the mysterious Marina. You still had so many questions but you were pretty sure you would never get an answer to any of them, especially while you didn’t know where you stood with Lewis. Lewis didn’t say another word, heading toward the door, but Charlotte ran after him. You watched as she wrapped him in a hug, whispering something in his ear before she patted his back and let him go. You gave her a look but she just shrugged.

The atmosphere throughout dinner felt normal, and you were grateful for that. Noone brought up what Lewis was probably out doing, no one mentioned him at all actually, and it felt a little foreign. His absence was noticeable but not abnormal, it was frequent during the season that you would all have dinner without him.

You later found yourself in the kitchen with Charlotte, tidying up the dishes while people got ready for bed.

“Hey, I know your room is technically open and all but if you still want to room with me, my door’s open.” Her voice was soft and kind, like a hug that you so desperately needed.

“Thank you, I’ll probably take you up on that if you don’t mind.” You sent her a grateful smile, somehow she always seemed to know what you needed, even if she didn’t know why.

“Of course, besides I’m still waiting to cache in on my cuddles.” She teased you gently.

“Oh, how could I forget?” You giggled.

“You go get ready for bed, I’m just gonna finish up out here and I’ll be in, just give me a few.” She nudged you out of the kitchen toward her room.

You did as she said and made your way down the hall. You couldn’t help but stop outside the door to your old room, it was open and you could see the unmade bed from where Talia had slept. It sent pure annoyance through your whole body, if you hadn’t had to change in Lewis’ room you probably wouldn’t be in the situation you are now. You knew it wasn’t fair to blame her for his actions, he’s a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing, but you couldn’t help it. Part of you wondered if she had put the thought of you in his head during her explosion. You never thought he felt that was about you and then all the sudden he had you pinned up against a mirror with his fingers inside of you. It was like a flipped switch that you couldn’t undo, the light was on and it would stay on for good. You tore yourself away from the doorway, making it all the way to Charlotte's room before stopping in the doorway and looking at Lewis’ door across the hall. The door was closed but you swore you could smell him, it almost seemed like he was standing on the other side of the door despite not even being in the house. You could smell the cologne he had put on for whoever he was trying to impress tonight, you could picture him adjusting his collar and placing the chains around his neck just right. You knew just how he would have rolled up the sleeves of his shirt so he could decorate his wrists with diamond bracelets and an expensive watch, exactly how he would slip each and every ring onto his fingers, spinning them until they were the perfect angle. You’d seen him do it all before, waiting for him as you all got ready for a night out, teasing him about taking longer to get ready than you. He would always joke that perfection takes time, winking at you as he would make his way over to you. His hand almost always found your lower back as he would guide you out of the random hotels or one of his homes, meeting your friends in the lobby. Maybe you should have seen it, maybe this was always his plan. He frequently found ways to make sure he was alone with you, having you come over and get ready with him, having the two of you take a separate car than everyone else so you would meet them there. If that had been his plan all along, why didn’t he make his move one of those many nights, alone in his hotel room or in the back of a town car.

Your head feels like it’s spinning as you think through almost every encounter you’ve had with him over the years. You shake away the fogginess, quickly making your way into Charlotte's room. You can feel your cheeks heating up and your eyes getting blurry as you slip into your coziest pajamas. You sit down on the end of the bed, putting your head in your hands. You don’t know how long you sit like that, trying your best to will away the tears that are fighting so hard to fall.

“Hey, honey, what’s wrong?” Charlotte's voice catches your attention.

She moves quickly to sit next to you on the bed, rubbing your back softly. When you finally look at her even more concern washes over her face. You don’t say anything, just shake your head as a single tear falls down your cheek, the lone escapee.

“Y/N, sweetie, talk to me,” She says quietly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

You do know that, Charlotte knows more about you than anyone else. She’s never judged you, never made you feel bad for your feelings, but this feels different. She’s the same person for Lewis, the man that has you in tears.

“I think I should go home.” You croak out, looking away from her.

“What? Are you crazy? Absolutely not,” Charlotte is quick to argue, “Talias gone, we can finally have the vacation we wanted to have.”

“It’s not Talia.” You admit quietly.

“Does your head hurt? We can get you to a doctor here on the island.” Charlotte quickly suggests.

“No, Charlotte, it’s not-” You start,cutting yourself off and dropping your face into your hands once again, “Fuck, I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to me about whatever’s going on and maybe I can help you figure it out.” She offers reassuringly, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you in tight, her hand still rubbing your back.

And so you do, you let the tears and the story all out into Charlotte's shoulder. You tell her about the conversation you had with Lewis the night he disappeared, the conversation you overheard between the two of them, what he did later that day, you tell her everything. You tell her about questioning everything about your relationship with him, about wondering if he really wants to be your friend. You tell her about how he tried to take care of you on the beach, about Talia’s comment about him, how you wanted to be sick when Daniel implied Lewis was going out to get laid. You tell her everything that you so desperately needed to get out. Charlotte is good, exactly what you needed as she sits there listening quietly, still just rubbing your back and letting you vent about the whole thing. When you finally stop talking she stays quiet for a moment, just letting you cry into her shoulder.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Is the first thing she mutters. It’s then that you realize just how tense she’s become as she listened to you talk, she seems almost as angry as you had been.

You pull away from her, trying to calm yourself down a bit, feeling ever so slightly better having gotten everything off your chest. The anger dissipates from her face when she meets your eyes, being overtaken by comfort and compassion.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I love him like a brother, but he’s a right fucking twat.” She says, rubbing your arm, “You don’t deserve to be in the middle of his stupid fucking shenanigans, it’s so far from fair.”

“I just don’t know what to do, I don’t want to lose him, I don’t want to lose all of you, but I don’t know how that can even happen. Nothing can just be normal again.” You sniffle through your words

“Hey, you are never, ever going to lose us. Especially not me, and I think I speak for Miles as well, we’re not going anywhere. I’m rather confident that if you told the guys about all this they would knock his head in.” She says sternly, making her point clear.

You let out a half hearted chuckle, knowing deep down that she’s probably right.

“Listen, we all know Lewis is a fuck boy, he has been for years and we all just let him do his thing. But to try to fuck around with someone that we all love, that crosses a line, he doesn’t get to fuck all of this up just because he’s a horny asshole.” She states firmly, her hand resting on your arm.

“You know what I hate the most of all?” You look at her, ready to admit the part you find the most embarrassing, “I let him do it, well up until I didn’t. Not only that, but I liked it, there’s part of me that wishes I didn’t stop him. And I’ve fucking thought about it since.” You scoff at yourself.

“I get it, he has a certain charm to him. He knows exactly how to make people fall to his feet, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. He makes people feel powerful and wanted, it’s addictive, even when you’re just his friend. There’s a certain aspect of being around Lewis that is like the best drug in the world, it’s almost impossible to kick.” She sounds like she talks from experience and you almost can’t help but wonder just how deep the experience is.

She can see the question in your eyes before you even have a chance to whisper it into the air.

“No,” she shuts you down quickly, her hand up in the air to put the thought to rest, “I have never and would never. I just mean the aura of him, even platonically he is impossible to deny.”

You nod, knowing the feeling all too well. Then another thought pops into your head.

“Where do you think he really is tonight?” You ask, not sure you actually want the answer.

“I know where he is,” She assures you but not giving you the information you crave, “he really is with a friend, nothing’s going on.”

“Marina?” You ask timidly.

She nods softly, not saying anything else about it.

“Who-” You start to ask but she cuts you off gently.

“I’m sure you don’t want to, but you should really talk to him about that. It’s not my place to tell.” She says, leaving you with even more questions.

You simply nod, she’s right you don’t want to talk to him about it, but maybe you should.

“I know he fucked up, and I’m pissed at him for it. He deserves a good smack to the head.” She starts making you laugh lightly, “But that being said, don’t question if he cares about you Y/N. I’ve known him for a long time and he doesn’t go out of his way for people he doesn’t care about, his personal time is precious to him and he doesn’t share it with just anyone, well unless they're in his bed I suppose.” She frowns.

“So Talia? He certainly went out of his way for her, he brought her on vacation the same way he brought me.” You point out, not entirely sure if you believe her.

Charlotte laughs, “No he didn’t, he was actually kind of annoyed she was coming at all. She was at his place one morning when he was making the plans and she invited herself. He told her she could come if she figured out her own way here, he was hoping she would give up but as we know she didn’t. He brought you on vacation because he missed you, he talks about you alot.”

“He does?” You ignore the story about Talia, not particularly surprised by it. Him talking to Charlotte about you though, that surprises you.

“Yeah, more than you would expect,” She chuckles, “if you guys spend anytime together I get the full rundown within like an hour. He’s like a teenage girl half the time. He will text me just to check how you’re doing because he doesn’t want to bother you if he knows you’re busy, yet he can’t go a day without knowing you’re alright. I hate to say it Y/N but I do think he likes you, more than you might realize. Unfortunately he’s an idiot who’s been emotionally single for almost a decade and has no idea how to show his feelings like an adult. He jumps to physical, and apparently has the worst timing of anyone on earth.”

Your head is spinning as you process what Charlotte is saying. You know she has an insight to Lewis that you could never dream of and you don’t feel like she has any reason to lie to you, yet you can’t let yourself believe it.

“Listen, it’s not my place to tell you how he feels about you, truth be told I’m not one hundred percent clear, but if I had to put money on it, I would say he really likes you, much more than just a friend. It’s honestly possible he doesn’t even really recognize it himself, like I said, it’s been a long time since he had an emotional connection with someone beyond family and friends, he’s shut himself down to it for a long time. I’m not trying to stick up for him, if you want to say ‘fuck him’ and cut him off, I truly wouldn’t blame you, he treated you like shit even if he didn’t mean to. He fucked up big time and he deserves to sweat, but I think you should talk to him, at least eventually. I know you both care about each other a lot, it would be a shame if it all ended.” Charlotte is calm as she speaks, each word coming out clearly and truthfully.

Her speech has you mind racing, there’s no way he likes you like that. Why the hell would he? He has his pick of the litter and as far as you’re concerned you were an easy target, you fell right into his lap at the perfect time when he wanted a distraction. Yet, on the other hand, it would make everything make a whole bunch more sense; the constant need to be around you, the unnecessary spoiling, the constant physical contact, the flirty messages and comments, the over protective behavior. Everything that you had chalked up to just being his personality, may actually mean something, something that maybe neither one of you really recognized.

“Okay, you’ve had a long day, how about we get some sleep and we deal with all of this tomorrow with a clearer head.” Charlotte suggests when you don’t respond, your mind still doing cartwheels.

You nod, sliding into bed as she takes her spot next to you. She turns off the light next to the bed before wrapping you in a hug. You start to doze off quickly, everything catching up to you.

“No matter what, you’re not going to lose us. I promise.” Charlotte whispers to you.

It’s the last thing you hear as you let yourself fall into a much needed deep sleep.

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delopsia · 1 year ago

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What it feels like to date Lewis Pullman's characters, but it's described using specific experiences.

Ingredients: ✰ Robert "Bob" Floyd, Rhett Abbott, Miles Miller, Major Major, and Harrison Knott. Warning: Contains mentions of food and vague PTSD references.

Robert "Bob" Floyd: Stuttered hello's and gazes trained on the floor. Sneaking out of social events in favor of quiet walks on the beach that end in being chased by an upset crustacean. The strum of a guitar as he plays you your favorite song. Shy smiles and binging movies. Sitting on opposite ends of the couch and gradually scooting closer until someone works up the nerve to rest their head on the others shoulder. Afternoon naps together and dramatic yawns until the other gets the idea.

Foggy glasses, niche fandom references, and inside jokes only you understand. Matching necklaces and otter plushes. Date nights to aquariums and zoos and sanctuaries. Borderline swearing and giggling at his poorly swapped words because he's afraid to say 'fuck'. Sharing embarrassing stories to cheer each other up. Always walking hand in hand. Kisses on cheeks and bear hugs that nearly swallow you whole.

Rhett Abbott: Wayward glances from across the bar and taking his hat off when he introduces himself to you. Spurs jingling as he walks you to his truck and him running ahead to hold the door for you. Watching him search for you in the crowd. Adrenaline-filled kisses that knock you off your feet. Greedily squeezing his biceps and hoping he doesn't catch onto you. Splitting gas station snacks and stopping by to see you while he's running errands. Kissing his bruised knuckles after a bar fight.

Putting his hat on your head and watching the way his eyes darken. Late-night drives and horseback rides across the ranch. Late-night conversations in the bed of his truck. A scruffy cheek squishing against yours to make you laugh. Dancing in the light of his headlights. Staying up late to listen to the thunderstorm rage on. Sleeping on each other's chests and stories about old scars. Matching necklaces and cowboy hats.

Miles Miller: Batting his eyelashes at you and forgetting to say hello. Glances out of corners of eyes and panicking when your eyes meet. Covering his ears during holiday fireworks and shaky hugs after an unexpected loud noise. Matching rings when you start dating. Carnival dates, stealing bites of each other's snacks, and buying a plushie from the store because neither of you could win the games. Sharing books and cozy sweaters. Rubbing your noses together when even kisses feel like too much for him to handle.

Pressing cold feet against each other in bed and giggling when the other yelps. Dissolving into tears over kisses against scars and bearing painful insecurities, all for the other to see. Sucking on butterscotch and seeing who can blow the biggest bubblegum bubble. Open-mouthed kisses across skin and whispering the things you love about each other. Snuggling him because he drank a milkshake, knowing his tummy would get upset later.

Major Major: Lingering glances at each other's lips, heads gravitating closer and closer, too shy to make the first move. Brushes of his hand against yours while you walk together. Knick knacks left on the dash of your car and in the crevices of your home, made just for you. Blurted Iloveyou's and frantic text messages that ask you on a date and the immediate panic that ensues. Him always seeking permission before touching you. Unprovoked compliments and nearly fleeing the room after.

Wide-eyed kisses. Shaky apologies for the hands that have landed on your waist. Matching sock collections and joining him on the floor when he's too nervous to get in bed with you. A handmade ship in a bottle with two little stick-men that resemble you and him. Fingers walking across naked skin. Fighting each other with action figures and fake swords. Toying with your fingers and his jaw dropping every time he lays eyes on you.

Harrison Knott: Being late to your destination and running right smack into each other. Frantic apologies after telling a really bad joke. Sand in your clothes and owning too many sandals to count. Custom Spotify playlists, homemade cassette mix tapes, and collecting CDs at yard sales. Taking polaroids of each other on dates and swearing at the seagulls who snatch your food from your hands. Shameless matching outfits.

Sitting in his lap at a bonfire and feeling his eyes rake over your frame the entire time. Sticking bows from gifts on each other. Deep sea fishing and getting seasick midway through. Him rolling on top of you to keep you from getting up in the morning. Late night skinny dipping and falling into the backseat. Big hands drawing you in for kisses when the whole world is watching.

#dont ask how i got here #rhett abbott #miles miller #harrison knott #major major #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #rhett abbott x reader #miles miller x reader #harrison knott x reader #major major x reader #delgato's warmups #tw food mention #tw ptsd #<- if you squint but <3

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popculturebuffet · 8 months ago

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Batmarch: The Secret Origin of Batman's Trophys (Comission for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Batmarch, or celebrations of all things that go bump in the dark knight

Today we've got a special treat... and i'm not just talking the nice art Kev had comissioned! Looks really good and I really appcirated it. Thank you KEv and thank you Alan Patreon. It was a nice suprise gift.

As for what this is about, this was a fantastic idea Kev cooked up: the batcave is one of the coolest hero bases in all of fiction. The layout is never 100% consitant across media but your usually guaranteed a batmobile, a big ass computer at the center, water falls, and over time a display for various costumes from past sidekicks, alternate outfits etc.

What really spruces the place up are three distinct decorations that we almost always see in the comics and ocasionally in other media, if not live action since these bitches would be expensive to make: A giant dinosaur, a big ole penny, and a giant playing card of a joker. These three are staples of the bat cave, to the point when the original was caved in during the earthquakes that ravaged gotham in the build up to no man's land, Bruce made a point of fishing them out for the new cave he built after that traumatic year.

Yet most of us.... have no idea where he got these wonderful toys. Even I didn't. The Joker Card comes from an obvious grinning source, but what CASE did it come from? Where did he get that dinosaur? What was someone using that giant Penny for? It's a question i've asked once or twice but never looked into. Kevin did though, and while the through and lovely DC wiki helped him find each one, he went the extra mile, asking for a review. And I was entirely on board with this comission as I just.. never had those answers and I doubt i'm the only one whose wondered what the context for these things were. So today we're looking at three disntinct golden age batman stories, at a time when goofy nonsense reigned supreme, logic was optional, and weird shit like this was just another day in the batcave. IN other words, this is going to be a LOT of fun so join me under the cut as we look at gambling themed death traps, penny obessed gangsters and batman being hunted by the most dangerous game: mechanical dinosaurs.

The Giant Joker Playing Card:

(from Batman #44)

I love these old titles, such flair and cheese. It's incredible.

Anyways this one starts because Joker decides to hit an off the books casnio after his win. Luckily for them, he just wants to play which feels entirely like a joker move: instead of robbing an easy target that can't call the cops and that the mafia presumibly running it would be stupid to retaliate on, he decides "fuck it let's try this whole gambling thing men, sounds like a hoot and a half".

And sure enough.. it goes really well. He spends what's implied to be the whole night just winning and winning until he cleans house. This being the joker this gambling bug can only end one way

I just.. love everything about this. Joker just had fun at a casnio and turned it into a death trap. It's such a brilliant setup.. and one that while nicely goofy, is also well done: it fits the joker's unpredictablity to just go a gamblin and it fits him just as much to turn a new hobby into a death trap. I also love Lewis' reaction calling it SUPERGAMBLING., like he's some gambling expert and most dangerous game shit is a type of gambling.. which given we're in the dc universe, you probably DO need a name for this kind of thing in the crime world.

So he set shte perfect trap: he has a random balding middle aged man tell the two he has info on a recent raidum theft, raidum a hospital badly needs. To save the presumed orphans about to die without eating their radium, Batman and Robin go to a sketchy island with one house perched on a hill

The World's Greatest Detective.. sees NOTHING wrong with this and goes ahead and gets caught in the most devious trap imaginable.

Several head injuries later, our heroes wake and joker reveals the radium theives, who he captured for this scheme but have kept the radium's location to themselves. This is by deisgn: the joker wants the two and their "radium screts" as the ante here, along with Robin to make sure Batman does this. Batman repedately states "I don't gamble' as if logic suddenly works on the clown man who set up a gambling death trap, so Joker reveals if Batman won't play his three supergambling games, he'll just kill the hostages. Batman reluctantly agrees,

Game 1 is super pinball.

But when Batman proves to be an expert at the snes Joker goes with plan b.. his giant pinball table of death. Sorry his giant SUPER pinball table of death.

As you can see the same joker face from the card is here and you see it all over his lable. it seemed to be Joker's logo back the. I love this whole setup and mostly show it not only because it' sdope but because those pins must've been what bumpers were. I also had no idea PInball used to be a gambling thing. Makes sense, it's just fun to find out.

The game goes well mostly though one of the guys nearly slams into a pin. Thankfully Robin is an expert gymnist and batman smartly saved laucnhing robin till the last minute and Dick's able to save the goon.

Game two is super rolling some dice, which apparently used to land on numbers. This yugioh style death game involves our bait being tied to polls on three of the numbers. If Batman guesses wrong, someone dies. Or maybe not since the board is pretty damn big. Not every death trap can be super murder pinball. Batman spots some mud on the dice though and correctly guesses they'll pivot. This is the weakest of the death traps here, a bit convolunted, not really guranteed to be as deadly. I know the chance of nothing happening is part of it.. but with pinball there's really almost no chance you won't hit the bumpers. Here it feels like pure luck or simple cheating that both dice flew at the joker.

Next game and the one that introduces our prop, though the dice apparently are also in the cave sometimes which I love. The game is a game of cards.. batman has to correctly guess which face matches the door Robin and the hostage goons are in or they'll choke to death on the deadly gas released inside.. and naturally he figures out it's the Joker card. It's too joker not to work.

Turns out though, naturally the joker isn't playing fair both having a final one on one game ofr him and Batman and having his goon go to get robin behind the joker card door... and Robin dispatches him hilaroiusly and awesomely

With that the hostages are free and the final death game begins. A giant super roulette wheel with both batman and joker getting in a slot. looser gets crushed alive. It's an awesome finale, and it fits joker to put himself at risk: after all he risks his life all the time why wouldn't he for such a fun gag?

Batman's able to get the wheel to turn fairly and then escape it, leading to a chase. THe Radium Theives agree to give themselves and the radium up but there's still the matter of the joker and we get a short but neat final chase as Joker uses the dice against the heroes then jumps off a cliff, gambling his life one last time.. and rightfully batman isn't betting on the joker having died.

Gamble With Doom is an excellent story. While the trophy we get out of it is only in it briefly the story itself is pure fun. It has some fun dated elements like Bruce's opinon gambling is EVILLLL and the old fashioned designs on the traps, but it's pure fun. The traps are clever, the tension palpable and the climax great. The gambling motif's really fit the joker and it adds up to an all time great joker story with a suprise impact. The Trophy Itslef. is barely in it but Robin DID break a guy's face with it so i'll say it was still cave worthy.

(From World's Finest #30)

The Penny Plunderer is a name I had heard but had no real context for. I assumed he was some goofy silver age villian with pennies for eyes who drove around chucking pennies at everyone.

I am an artiste.

Instead it's just a guy in a suit. He has the backstory of any good golden or silver age villian to justify his gimmick

I love.. everything about this backstory. It reads like if a writer was given the thought exercise "Make the pettiest batman villian origin you can find.". I mean other villians gimmicks make sense: Poison Ivy was a botonist, Mr Freeze had a horrible accident, the penguin was born looking like a penguin with a lot of money, the Joker fell into a vat of chemicals and came out a clwon, the riddler liked puzzles.

Here Joe just... got screwed over by pennies a lot. Even funnier is that the last one has nothing to do with pennies. Like.. even if it'd had nickels he'd still be arrested.

So Joe vows since pennies runied his life, he'l lbecome the penny! Sadly this does not mean him dressing up like a giant penny with a cane and top hat.. nad now I can't show you it that last drawing put me too far behind and... oh fuck it.

Instead he just wears a suit but makes his gimmick pennies. Commit to the bit man. I do get it as some golden age villians were just guy in a suit, even Joker and Penguin technically counts but one is a clown and the other is a rich penguin man. They have mor ethan just "suit and a vendetta against pennies that somehowturns into stockholm syndrome.

So the penny plunderer begins his reign of terror, setting up a penny arcade as a front, and cashing in a roll of pennies in the most diabolical scheme ever devised by man.

A true criminal mastermind.

Batman picks up on this pattern because it's what he does and finds his next case, a coin and stamp exibiton with a rare one cent stamp. It's here we meet the reason we're here: the giant penny!

Yeah to my shock the penny had NOTHING to do with the penny plunderer other than being at the site of one of his robberies. He prefered just.. chucking pennies at people.. which is awesome and a truly great tactic only topped by Batman's use of said giant penny

I adore the fact that this iconic artifact is there not because it was seized from the villians or a police options.. but because, presumibly, Bruce thought this penny he found was kick ass and bought it off it's actual owner.

Most of the theives escape but they find one willing to squeal. Unfortunatley he dies for his hubris

Yup bet you weren't expecting the penny guy to kill someone and to see his corpse weren't you but here you are. Also batman is apparently a cop now. George Lopez tried to warn us...

But we didn't listen! We didn't listen!

A fight breaks out at the gambling parlour and we get two of the best moments in batman history that much like the blue beetle film, ar ehighly underated.

I just.. I get the sense that is how batman ALWAYS plays pinball. Just judo kicks it every time even as bruce wayne. Both bruce wayne and batman have been banned from so many arcades.. often the same ones. Perks of having a secret identity. We then get coyne once again THROWING pennies at someone and it working. I don't know why he hasn't been brought back with the telkeentic ability to contorl pennies. Give him a copper helmet and a proper costume and oh dammit..

Then Joe knocks batman out iwth his one weakness: a roll of pennies. He's trapped them in the parlor for your standard batman death trap, having removed their belts and ripped out the phone lines as usual. He then throws them a few pennies when then prove to be a mistake as it's time for SCIENCE WITH DR. BATMAN, who uses one old penny, copper, and one new penny, zinc to make a battery. Good thing jimmy didn't wish it away THIS week.

The cops arrive to free one of hteir own and batman finds a clue once the parlor is cleared of gas. Turns out Coyne was catering a penny slot party for a rich billinoare's houseboat, and naturally their filled with gas. I swear it's always gas with these golden age villians. Get another knockout device fellas.

With that our final chase enses as Batman and robin chase Coyne and while he nearly bests them with a good game of 1940's donkey kong

He's foiled by his own gimmick: he has only pennies but the pay telephone.. dosen't.. take 5 seperate pennies for some reason? the hell? I get payphones not taking pennies once they went up to a quarter but come the fuck on 1940's payed telephones. he's foiled.. and sentenced to death.

Yes folks that's the cannoical till some lucky fellow brings him back fate of the penny plunderer: PUT TO DEATH.

This story is as you can tell nonsense that's only gotten more hilarious with the passage of time and I loved every page on it and on getting the panels for this review, I only found MORE hilaroius nonsense to laugh at. We have a story where a guy with a penny gimmick smacks batman with a roll of pennies, trips robin with more, kills a man without pennies, is foiled by pennies yet somehow dosen't actually use the giant penny that's the only reason people know he exists. It's beautiful bollocks and worth your time.

(From Batman #35)

As I hope you are, this issue had me hooked from the first panel: Batman vs dinosaurs being forced to fashion a bow and arrow for some reason. Yes... fuck. Yes. Also nice of bruce to eat Ollie's lunch.

Okay so this story starts, as many real life stories do, with a billionare having a zany idea; Mr. Hart is a man who puts on shows: ice follies, aqua carnival, 40's razzle dazzle type stuff. For his latest idea though he's going above and beyond: a DINOSAUR ISLAND. With mechancail dinosaurs and cavemen who throw giant sponges at you. Thankfully spongebob wasn't born yet but his great great grandpappys quarepants did the honors. Honorable old fool.

To ramp up the insanity, Mr Hart is inviting a club of big game hunters to eat mammoth steak with batman.

If that weren't enough, and in any other golden age story it might be... our heroes get CHALLENGED at dinner by one of the rich assholes. Yeah turns out rich assholes who hunt innocent animals for sport and eat reheated mammoth aren't the most stable indviduals and Mr. Breech scoofs at the fact Mr. Hart says Man is the most dangerous game. He's hunted man, they went down like cowards. COWARDS. He feels Batman couldn't hut a dinosaur without his gadgets, and certainly not his bare hands... even though as this issue with prove and has already shown early man had tools.

To prove his point he challenges batman to a fucking challenge: survive on Dinosaur Island: no utility belt, no vehicles. If the dinosaurs touch him he looses. Mr Breech will man the controls. Honestly i'm convinced Breech knew hart well enough to know he'd both agree to this for the publiclity and why he'd invite batman and robin and just wants to play iwth giant mechanical dinosaurs and also batman. Which granted if I were invited to this sort of thing i'd also want to chase batman with mechanical dinosaurs for fun, who wouldn't, so I totally get it and respect the game.

Hart is on board, offering 5000 to the winner's charity and Batman is like "Why the bat-fuck not. Let's go".

Now you might suspect Breech's real motive is trying to kill batman. I mean you have a setup where batman will be without his weapons, the plausable deniablity of a machine malfunction and a secluded island with 24 hours to kill the batman. And you'd shockingly be wrong. Breech really just wants to prove dinosaurs are the most dangerous game so when that Jurassic Park he's working on opens no one will object to him hunting them for sport.

But his plans are foiled by Chase, anothe rich knob who wants to kill batman and robin to, as he says later form a "crime combine". So he wants a bunch of middle aged guys drinking beers to yell at him for not training the joker on tackling well enough. I see.. well played.

So the game is afoot and our heroes take a bit to catch up, first brushing off a real rock among the sponge rocks as a mistake. Theis ends when a Triceratops to trismash them into a tree. Batman calls for a war council on a nearbye island but naturally THAT'S NO ISLAND

Batman fought a mechanical fucking seamonster. That.. that's cannon. To almost every batman timeline. God bless you Golden Age, god, bless, youuuu. Also i'd be stupid if I didn't say that Tally Ho, Batman! is one of the greatest phrases in batman history up there with "I Am the night" , "I'm batman" and "Something something joker's boner".

So now the games for their lives, Batman and Robin don't have to play fair and start fashioning bows, arrows and knives out of mechanical dinosaur bones. You know.. sometimes this job can be draining: 2-3 reviews a week, many a plan having to be delayed due to a review taking longer than expected.. but then you get a review where Batman and robin have to outrun a manical billinoare who hyjacked dinosaurs from a diffrnet billionare who was having a charity dinosaur hunt with batman and robin using a third billionare's dinosaur, while fashoining weapons from mechanical dinosaur corpses and fashion a kite from a mechanical ptreadon and remember why you love reviewing stuff so mucH: sharinng a good story with the world and finding a good one or two yourself while your at it. And thanks to Kev i've found three truly wonderful, truly bonkers batman stories, with this one being the easy winner. It's both a decent enough concept for the time and hilariously insane.

And I ddin't make up the kite thing: when, after a night of survivial, Robin brings up the batplane, Batman has an idea: since the flying dinosaurs are on a programmed pattren rather than directly controled, they can use them to make themselves a kite yor style.

So to win the day Batman has a plan: he uses himself as bait since Robin's the more agile of the two, and has robin CATAPULT HIMSELF into the air after chase, who is riding on t-rex back with an army of dinosaurs.. and how does he defeat chase' smighty dino army?

It's both genuinely clever and wonderfully bonkers: Robin defeats an evil billionare RIDING a mechanical t-rex.. with water balloons.

Also props to this story: in the previous two the trophy was impressive.. but it was taken from what felt like a minor point in the story: the card flip game was fun as was batman slammin ga door on a guy, but it's sandwitched between far more elaborate death traps, while the penny, again awesome, wasn't even something the penny plunderer used. Batman just bought it off some offscreen character to relive fond memoreies of crushign some crimianls alive with it. Here the main villian ROAD IN on the thing. Granted he still had to likely buy it off his actual owner, but this time at least a criminal actually used it as a murder weapon. I can see Batman wanting this thing for his cave.

Batman chases chase over the now still dinosaurs and punches the guy out. With this Batman's saved the day AND won the bet. 5000 for batmobiles for kids, donate your batmobile today!

As for chase...

With that our story and this trilogy comes to an end.. and as I said, it's great. check out all three of these issues their a lot of fun. Next time dc puts some up for sale I may have to get some 40's batman, this stuff is golden.

Thanks for reading

To conclude batman month: Wait'll you get a load of this

#batman #robin #bruce wayne #dick grayson #the joker #golden age #1940s #penny plunderer #dinosaur #dinosaurs #comics #dc comics

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