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#have you ever been a third wheel
sailorsally · 2 years
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some of jarold's shitty pranks can surely be explained by the fact that he has been third wheeling since 2010
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remember when 12 finally let Bill into the vault and she thought she was going to meet a cool new sci-fi monster and instead Missy and the Doctor flirt back and forth over a grand piano until Missy is like ‘btw she has to die :)’
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tramway coaches i guess
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i meant to reply to @sudrian-railways-enthusiast about these tags in the comments but somehow my response spiralled into a full-blown post on HCs for minor coach characters
"the old ones with nothing to lose... and Henrietta"
So, I hesitated on how to word that section! Because my first thought had been that the coaches that were more reckless and "awkward" were very likely to be elderly coaches relegated to workmen's services, as that seems to basically be the last leg of the life journey for them... assuming they get that far. In other words, IRL some of those coaches are janky but since they're usually quite old that's not much surprise. In sentient vehicle world, I like to think they're cranky, they've come down a long way in the world (unwashed laborers! eurgh!!), they probably have some Emotions, and what they don't have left are any fucks to give.
But I also knew Henrietta had definitely done some Unauthorized Creeping About, so I had been planning to make a special mention of her all along. But when it came down to writing that sentence, it was awkward. She's a special case! Because she does seem to literally fit the profile I wrote above... but she's not that type. For one thing, she has far from "nothing" to lose! She may primarily transport workers to and from the quarry but for her it's not a last lonely stopgap before the scrapyard; she has a home, friends; she's loved; she does all sorts of special jobs; she and Toby are multi-generational local celebs and they are in no disgrace or danger.
Hannah... hahaha(nnah)... I admit, I wrote that post not wanting to touch her. She gives me a fair bit of trouble in headcanons because you would think that if Henrietta still had a sister after all this time there would be a lot of explanation and backstory and probably angst to unpack? Like what?? Where did she come from??? I agree, just looking at TVS the best explanation is that Hannah was scrounged up and refurbished largely as a backup for Henrietta (and omg, the ISSUES with that dynamic???? this hasty hot-blooded creature as the frustrated understudy? but they both survived the scrapper's torch, so that makes it... okay? but also, not? hmmm...)
If we try to combine TVS and RWS, though (as I do!), I feel we need to do something else with Hannah. Because there is no way to reconcile Victoria's existence if Sodor owns Hannah? Like I'm not one to think that everything on this disaster-gay-energy of a railway has to be matchy-matchy but it's almost cruel for them to have been like, "Ahhhh, yes. Henrietta needs some help. Where shall we get it? ... *crickets* ... Well, we'll kick that can down the road and see what comes up." Completely ignoring Henrietta's underused and clearly bored SISTER just chilling on a seldom-used siding.
Even as I type this, I realize we could just say that Hannah's disposition is Too Much to handle that gig full-time—Toby seems stressed out whenever he has to go near her for even a day or two. But for my money, I like to ID Hannah as the Upwell and Wisbech coach No. 8, the one who appeared in Titfield Thunderbolt! It definitely seems consistent with her "hasty" and adrenaline-seeking character! Also, remember that canonically Toby and Henrietta (and Elsie! I am categorically against Elsie Erasure 😤) are from an Upwell-and-Wisbech-esque line but explicitly NOT from that one. In other words, it facilitates the two sisters having always worked separately back on the mainland, which seems to fit the rather distant relationship they have in the show.
This also facilitates, in this timeline, Hannah being preserved but not owned by the North Western. That helps me a lot so far as her coexistence with Victoria. In this headcanon I'd say that the North Western put off the issue of Toby's overloaded train for as long as possible because they were trying to buy Hannah. Finally they could put it off no longer and, anyway, it was clear that Hannah's railway (I haven't decided which heritage line she works, but it's one of them) wasn't going to part with her. This makes more sense to me than the explanation in the book that? the North Western? couldn't afford a single new coach no matter how pressing the need?? but they could afford to restore a converted garden house into running condition (not really any cheaper I reckon)??? And then at the end FC3 is showing off the train like it's an attraction??? I dunno, I don't buy any of it, the NWR is doing plenty well enough to get any coach they want. That they put it off because they wanted Hannah works for me. And Victoria wasn't some convenient random find; she was probably on FC3's radar for a while and was the Next Best Option for some local vintage flavor.
That said, you can still rescue the Hannah episodes, too, by saying sometimes she is loaned to the NWR. And since she only works about 25 days a year and never breaks 10 mph otherwise, you'd better believe she makes the most of her spells on Sodor! Yee-haw! C'mon, Jim-boy, is this really as fast as you can go?????????
Bonus: If Hannah had been preserved after Titfield Thunderbolt as planned... perhaps she's appeared in some movies since?... she's a career actress. Throw in a little diva-with-a-heart-of-gold energy and just, honestly, I'm loving this.
As for Victoria... okay, so it seems to me that, immediately prior to being withdrawn from service on the Ffarquhar, she DOES fit my profile for "unhappy, ornery coach, disgusted at how far she's fallen in the world, who might act out." Think about it—she had been sent away from Albert and Helena (that had already been her first "demotion," mind you—but she seems to have been very happy with her little found family in that era), sent over to the No-Where Railway, is in exile now on the most godforsaken western line on this barbarous island? She doesn't know how Albert and Helena are, the early N.W.R. is a mess, there's no tourism, she's reduced to having 'Coffee Pots' play pass-the-parcel with her as smelly miners and masons and construction workers grind dirt and ash into her upholstery and make a ruin of her floors, and with each new bit of grime it seems any hope she has of ever being wanted back home grows dimmer—
So, maybe she acted out? I mean yes, she seems very sweet, and I'm sure by nature she is, but these are also the exact sort of circumstances I'd predict "truck-like behavior."
She had to have been withdrawn before 1925, or else Thomas should have recognized her, so that was relatively early, and maybe she was one of the first picks to be replaced once the railway started getting their grubby paws on a few better coaches—because she had gotten into the habit of being a bit of a pill.
I know, I know that when Chris Awdry had Edward say "Don't I know you from somewhere?" that he meant to imply the answer was "yes, from their mutual Furness days." But the F.R. timeline actually works out such that these two probably never worked the same line. So I, guilt-free, prefer to interpret it as Edward vaguely recognizes her, and it takes him another minute or two for him to realize that it's from their early Sodor days.
So then he keeps his mouth shut and never brings it up again. Because it would be a very Edward thing, to a) remember that she had gotten a bad reputation on the island, and to b) realize that he's probably the only other living thing that would know this, and c) to reckon that after 75 years off the rails, she has more than paid the price for any difficulty she once gave, and that she deserves the chance to make a fresh start.
Which, obviously, Victoria grabbed onto it with all six wheels and never let go. She is clearly a homebody by nature so, now that she knows that this is the only home she has, it makes sense to me that any brief "I'm going to make my problems everyone's problem" phase is long over.
Still... imagine how pleased Henrietta and Elsie were, after containing their Creeping About tendencies for a while, feeling that this pleasant newcomer would crimp their style, to discover... haha no worries. She is perfectly prepared to keep their secrets. She may even chip in a trick or two of her own...
#on twitter victoria is pretty widely loathed i really don't get why she's fine#i prefer her in this role to hannah#she is given a distinct personality but she's in no danger of overshadowing or capsizing the mild steady dynamic of the Toby Train... she j#mind you there is literally no bigger 'third wheel' in the world than tagging along behind toby and henrietta haha#but then elsie's been doing this for decades and decades and surely likes having a new friend to do it with her...#mind you hannah is a FUN character but she is A Bit Much for the ffarquhar#i really do like the idea of her blowing on through every year or two on a whirlwind visit#like a crazy rich cousin who doesn't live with you and that's probably for the best but they always brighten up the room#the parents don't approve but the kids are like 'HEY AUNTIE WHAT NEW FORBIDDEN THING YA GONNA TEACH US ABOUT THIS TIME'#anyway going back to arguing with invisible composite twitterati#the problem is not that victoria got too much air time the only problem is that the other RWS coaches didn't!#the solution is not to tear down but to build up#... and as everyone comments TVS helped there so what's the problem?#(i'm not as enthusiastic about CGI annie clarabel and henrietta as everyone else seems to be)#(they seem as flat as ever to me)#(but hey at least they have lines and agency ig)#ttte coaches#ttte vehicle autonomy#<- i should go back and use this tag in a few places...#ttte analysis#ttte headcanon#ttte#the railway series
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orcgirlcock · 1 year
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god, I wish they'd just get it over with and invite me to fuck already
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vers-1 · 2 years
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😳
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ghostfacd · 4 months
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YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH
pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader
summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before
part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)
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ynuser :)
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user1 im loving the aesthetic
user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE
user3 put them toes awayyyy
rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)
➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her
➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??
user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.
user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on
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When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.
The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.
The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.
He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.
You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.
“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.
“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”
Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”
And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.
tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !
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ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA
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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE
user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other
user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔
➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me
user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car
➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW
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sean.kauf photo dumpy
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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬
➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓
user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..
user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!
➥ user17 REAL SHIIT
tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other
➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD
user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean
➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom
user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg
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ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!
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user21 this took the cake.
user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market
user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR
user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹
user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE
tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)
➥ user26 I CHOKED
➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN
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astonmartinii · 6 days
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a case of the cuddle bug | logan sargent social media au
pairing: logan sargent x fem!piastri!reader
someone check his temperature, he's got a serious case of the cuddle bug
author's note: thought we could all use some logan content to get us through the weekend
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 201,445 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: he's not racing :( more time to cuddle :)
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user1: if i find out that that t-shirt was made by them i may need to be shot in the head
yourusername: sorry to be the bearer of bad news 😕
user2: y/n where do we find a logan?
yourusername: date your brother's best friend - the romance books did NOT lie
logansargent: hard to be too sad when you're around
yourusername: awwwww logie bear 🐻 i love youuuuu
logansargent: i love you too come back to the motorhome the hospitality coffee is not worth it
yourusername: not even if i swipe you a cupcake?
logansargent: okay..... maybe ....
alexalbon: i'm sorry buddy, i promise i'll do us proud
yourusername: yOU BETTER 👹
alexalbon: i'm soRRY are you like a gremlin? did someone spill some water?
yourusername: i'm gonna ignore most of that cause gizmo is cute
logansargent: she loves you really alex
alexalbon: do you still love me logie?
logansargent: yes?
alexalbon: I' SORRY I HAVE.A GUILTY CONSCIENCE I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE BEING MAD AT ME
user3: lol mood ^
oscarpiastri: you could support your BELOVED BROTHER NOW (AT HIS (OUR) HOME RACE)
yourusername: ugh i guess
oscarpiastri: you literally said you'd support me any time logan wasn't racing :(
yourusername: unless he can come with me, we'll be supporting you from the williams garage
oscarpiastri: better than nothing i guess
logansargent
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liked by oscarpiastri, alexalbon and 459,046 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: no way around it, this weekend has been the hardest of my career. however, i'm thankful for alex for picking up a couple points for the team and for having y/n with me to support me this weekend, enjoy the cute picture of her (but not too much)
also i guess congrats to oscar on a podium at his home race 🤷🏻‍♂️
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user4: hardest weekend ever... here's a pic of my. hot gf :)))))
user5: he's real for that, just reminding us that he's still winning off track
alexalbon: thank you isn't enough logie, love you man, can't wait to see you back in the car next week x
yourusername: you're so lucky you got points otherwise your ass would've been grass xoxo
alexalbon: Y/N I SAID I WAS SORRY PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN YOU'RE MEANT TO BE THE NICE PIASTRI
oscarpiastri: you stole my soon-to-be brother-in-law's car and called me a shit padel player 🖕🏻
alexalbon: why is everyone ganging up on me :(
logansargent: you gotta take it for at least this weekend bro
alexalbon: i guess...
user6: they're so cute, but who is taking these photos of them?
yourusername: oscar makes himself useful sometimes
oscarpiastri: ugh i get NO CREDIT IN THIS FAMILY
logansargent: i at least appreciate it oscar 🫶🏻
oscarpiastri: that's all well and good and i love you, you're my bff but sometimes i don't want to see you be lovely dovey with that hellspawn
fredvesti: let it be known i will no longer be sneaking out with you guys for ice cream on a race weekend, the risk was not worth the third wheeling
logansargent: i paid?
fredvesti: thank the lord you did otherwise i'd raise an official complaint
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 793,209 others
tagged: logansargent & yourusername
oscarpiastri: got a podium at my home race and i'm still not my sister's favourite
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user8: have we considered that y/n and logan have attachment issues?
oscarpiastri: she sat at the window like a woman waiting for her husband at war when he DARED to go home for christmas when we were 16
yourusername: as if you haven't cried over lily 🙄
oscarpiastri: i ACTUALLY don't get to see her very often, i can't separate you and logan
yourusername: LEAVE ME BE
user9: oscar says this as if y/n wasn't crying her eyes out at the podium
user10: and logan wiping her tears to prevent smudging her eyeliner - sigh
logansargent: don't hate the player hate the game
oscarpiastri: what happened to blood being thicker than water
yourusername: you know what else is thicker than water ... 😩😩😩
oscarpiastri: okay you can sTOP RIGHT THERE
landonorris: they're really one being huh?
oscarpiastri: believe me the dinner at mine? they were being TAME
yourusername: okay for the audience we are not that bad, we're just affectionate we aren't like making out in front of everyone
landonorris: .... shame
oscarpiastri: yOU HAVE SHAME THAT'S MY SISTER
logansargent: THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND
yourusername: AND THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND
landonorris: damn tough crowd
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 212,934 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: a wee break before my boy is back to knock your socks off
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user11: they're so cute your honour
alexalbon: dating a racing driver and not wearing a seat belt? interesting.
yourusername: dating a professional golfer and still shit at golf? interesting.
lilymunhe: she did get you there alex, soz.
yourusername: also we weren't even driving, that hair acting is all a fan
logansargent: practically a professional photographer now (the model definitely helps, she looks perfect doing anything)
yourusername: hehehheheheheheheheheheheeh
user12: y/n really just gagging alex at every corner
user13: she saw logan wasn't holding a grudge and decided to double down on hers
user14: and we respect that
logansargent: you knock my socks off everyday babe
yourusername: as long as it's only me 😘
logansargent: i've been in love with you since i was 13 👍🏻
yourusername: SNAP🫰
oscarpiastri: once again left out of the photodump
yourusername: you are not 'my boy' that would in fact be inappropraite
oscarpiastri: you couldn't just change the caption?
yourusername: you're not cute enough to be a lannister (cersei and jaime call me)
logansargent: ????
yourusername: *call us 😉
logansargent
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liked by lilymunhe, alexalbon and 592,309 others
tagged: yourusername
logansargent: glad to be back in the car this weekend, though if alex could stop terrorising y/n that would be great
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user15: were oscar and y/n's parents in the williams garage?
user16: so oscar wasn't lying about him basically being family already 🥹
alexalbon: i was not TERRORISNG I WAS ENGAGING IN SIBLING LIKE BANTER
oscarpiastri: hold on buster, that's MY sister 🤨
alexalbon: i can't win with any of you three 😭
yourusername: LET'S FUCKING GO EAGLE BOY GOD BLESS AMERICA 🦅🇺🇸
logansargent: i'll let you have this one for once
yourusername: as an aussie that was very hard to say, please appreciate it
logansargent: thank you my little kangaroo?
yourusername: kinda offensive they're scary
logansargent: koala?
yourusername: YOU SAYING I HAVE CHLAMYDIA?
logansargent: well i've ran out of australian animals now :(
user17: thanks for the violent reminder of chlamydia being rife in koalas :(
oscarpiastri: gonna have to beat you this weekend to win back my parents' favour it seems
yourusername: let's be real, they prefer logan over both of us :(
oscarpiastri: true 😔
logansargent: i can't help the southern charm
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williamsf1
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liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,034,672 others
tagged: logansargent
williamsf1: LOGAN POINTS, I REPEAT LOGAN POINTS 😤
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user20: TRUST HIM, I REPEAT TRUST HIM
yourusername: THAT'S MY BOY LET'S FUCKING GO
oscarpiastri: you never get this excited for me?
yourusername: FUCK OFF THIS IS NOT YOUR TURN, IT'S LOGAN'S DAY
maxverstappen1: pretty sure i won the race
yourusername: FUCK OFF ALL OF YOU
user21: y/n crying her eyes out she's so real
user22: based on the faces in the garage i think she may have let everything out lol
user23: as she should
user24: can't expect two people to be attached 24/7 and not be ride or die for each other
logansargent: thanks for the support, glad to pick up some points for the team
yourusername: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
logansargent: i know you've shouted it in my face since i got back from media
yourusername: you need to know it :(
logansargent: i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user25: the whole piastri family going wild in LOGAN'S garage was not on my 2024 bingo sheet
user26: but it was cute as fuck
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, logansargent and 287,045 others
tagged: logansargent
yourusername: we're down bad with a case of the cuddle bug
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user27: the CUDDLE BUG?
user28: i need to be taken out of my misery
logansargent: i've got a high fever, a love fever
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS CORNY AS FUCK
yourusername: i thought it was cute :(
logansargent: and that's what matters
yourusername: exactlyyyyy
oscarpiastri: so fuck me, right?
yourusername: yes!
logansargent: yes!
user29: this whole interaction makes it so obvious oscar was the only boy growing up LOL
alexalbon: i'll concede, you guys are cute
yourusername: we been known
logansargent: no one does it like us
alexalbon: erm alex and lily erasure?
yourusername: lily cute, you not so much
alexalbon: stop being SO PROTECTIVE WHY ARE YOU A GOLDEN RETRIEVER WITH EVERYONE ELSE AND A RABID JACK RUSSELL WITH ME IT WAS JAMES' DECISION GO FOR JAMES' ANKLES
williamsf1: ???
yourusername: i thought it was friendly sibling banter (also james is logie's boss of course i'm not gonna go for his ankles dummy)
logansargent: she's my little guard dog 🫶🏻
yourusername: anything for you, come back to cuddle :(
logansargent: on my way cuddle bug!
fin.
note: i understand why williams made the decision they did, but i've had such a soft spot for logan since he admitted he's lonely in the paddock :( i hope he has a good next race to really prove himself to everyone xx hope you enjoyed! xx
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Are You Jealous? - LN
Request from @landoslady - Helloooo so since we now know lando will be on chicken shop date could we do a story where him and reader are dating and she gets jealous and its is a lil angst but a whole lot of fluff
Now I'm ngl, after watching this...Lando was imo the least flirty guest that she's ever had on chicken shop date. Like man was just oo awkward, too shy and idk if this is going to be quiet what is expected with this request bc I think it was assumed Lando would be a bit more like Jack Harlow vibes of his flirting game but I hope what I've written is ok.
Also just a little warning, I might paint Amelia in ever so slightly a bad light. It's just to work into the jealous!reader trope. I know she's really nice irl and I don't think she'd actually be the way I've written her, and I've tried to make it that the jealousy is founded by the reader overthinking and just being sort of insecure about herself.
Jealous/insecure!reader
No part 2 request please
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"What are you doing tomorrow?" Lando asks absently as he looks at his phone while sitting in bed.
"Me? I was just going to stay in bed and rot before we fly back to Monaco." Y/n yawns earning a grin. "Why?"
"I just checked my calendar, I'm doing the chicken shop date tomorrow in London." Lando states knowing his girlfriend can be a little jealous thing at times. And while he shouldn't love feeding into it, on this occasion it's actually not on purpose. He didn't even realise that he had anything arranged for tomorrow, it's a good thing he even checked his calendar.
"You...-You're what?" Y/n frowns turning around from having been looking in the mirror where she'd been removing make up. "Did you just say chicken shop date?"
"Yeah, that YouTuber Amelia." Lando smiles then looking at her for a moment. "You look annoyed."
"I'm not annoyed." Y/n shrugs quickly then standing up. "I need to wash my face."
Y/n hates the fact she gets jealous so easily and she tries to cover it up but obviously fails miserably. Lando smirks a little rolling his eyes to himself as he follows her into the bathroom finding her giving her face an especially harsh scrub and while he waits for her to wash it off and pat her face dry.
"You don't need to get jealous." Lando states stepping up behind her, hands landing on her waist.
"I'm not."
"You can come with me to make sure I behave." Lando offers actually wanting y/n there.
He's a natural flirt with y/n, he can tease her without a second thought into it. But actually he doesn't feel overly eager about meeting someone new and being expected to flirt with her.
"You're cute when you're jealous, you know that?" Lando smiles resting his chin on her shoulder while she looks at him at him through the reflection.
"Shut up." Y/n mumbles then sighing. "You don't want me there."
"Y/n, I always want you there." Lando smiles making her sigh. "Please? I want you there, you know I don't like new people."
"Weirdo." Y/n teases though it's still in a murmur.
"Is that a yes?" Lando pokes making her hum before he grins and kisses her cheek. "Good."
-
Lando smiles pulling up to the chicken shop location that was on his calendar.
"Hey, you made it." Amelia greets while Lando appears with y/n's hand in his own.
Now this is an opportunity to build a nice first impression and really not paint herself as a jealous bitch. But she doesn't actually get the chance.
"It's nice to meet you. I hope you don't mind I brought my girlfriend with me, this is y/n." Lando smiles swinging their hands between them.
"Hi, it's great to meet both of you." Amelia smiles and y/n has to stab at herself internally for going into this ready for a fight. "We actually kind of do the whole set up with just met and the guest with one person who makes sure all the equipment is working. So I feel bad because you won't be able to be there to watch."
Nevermind y/n hates her.
"That's fine. Not sure how it'd be to third wheel a date with my boyfriend and someone else anyway." Y/n laughs managing to play off her bubbling jealousy into something much less upset.
"I'll just be a minute." Lando states beginning to hand some of the stuff he brought with him to y/n to take care of and somewhat hoping he can actually reassure y/n that everything is fine. "Are you ok?"
"Yes." y/n states promptly making Lando hum since he doesn't believe her. "Don't really get why the two of you have to be alone."
"Oh baby." Lando laughs immediately cupping her face and kissing her several times. "I love you."
"Yeah...sure you do." Y/n murmurs making him laugh and hug her tightly kissing her again. "I love you too...even if you're annoying." She's immediately squeezed tightly while she hugs her arms around him.
"So clingy." Lando chuckles, as if he doesn't love her all the more for it. "Alright, I don't think it's going to be too long. So hopefully you don't have to sit out here for long."
"Ok. Have fun." Y/n states feeling maybe a little more relaxed.
It's not as if she doesn't trust Lando, this is not going to be a moment of him meeting this woman and falling in love with her. Though deep that that's definitely a fear her insecurities are fighting to work on.
Sadly dating Lando Norris means feeling like every other girl is somewhat of a threat. The man is out of her league, though he'd insist otherwise, his fans certainly let her know the truth without filtering in consideration of her feelings.
Y/n shakes those thoughts from her head as she watches Lando and Amelia set up for the "date".
It's not real. Stop it.
Y/n chews on her lip as she sits with the production team who are trying to include her in their conversation but she is admittedly just focused on watching Lando.
He looks a littler awkward and uncomfortable. Not hard to read in his body language but he's trying to live up to his usual reputation with people. Despite popular belief, he's not a smooth talker and actually when he can be, he's quiet and prefers to be a listener rather than a talker.
There is some moments that Lando looks over at y/n since she's very might sitting within sight of him.
Annoyingly, watching him get more and more comfortable with her reignites her jealousy and eventually when he starts laughing she tears her gaze away. And she doesn't look back until Lando appears.
"Hey, baby-oh." Lando laughs but his amusement isn't received well.
He could tell as soon as he got over to her, she's pouting. She never means to pout, he is almost certain she doesn't even realise when she's doing it which is why it's much more endearing that annoying. She's trying not to be upset but she is.
"Can I wait in the car? I'm cold." Y/n mumbles making him smile a little.
"Yeah, of course you can." Lando nods digging in his pocket for his keys but when he holds them out for her he quickly snags them away. "Ah. Gimme a kiss first."
Y/n looks at him with a wave of annoyance flash behind her eyes, mostly likely because of his slight cockiness but she's also just being her usual jealous self.
She doesn't say anything. Instead just standing up and kissing him before she steals the keys.
Amelia moves over as y/n walks away to his car.
"Is she ok?"
"Yeah...just a little moody. Probably tired." Lando laughs knowing better than to just outright say she's jealous. "And cold. I don't think she was expecting to sit outside. She's a fan of chicken shop dates."
"Oh you should've said."
"No, it's ok. She'll be happy to watch it when it comes out." Now he's just lying to the woman's face, he's be surprised if he could force y/n to watch it never mind witness her happily watch it.
After shooting some photos and clips for the promo content, Lando does head off and walk to his car smiling as he opens the passenger seat.
"Still moody?" He jokes earning a huff. "Aww...baby. You don't need to be jealous."
"Yeah, well you looked pretty damn happy in there." Y/n mumbles bitterly hating how amused Lando is by her annoyance. Especially since she knows how ridiculous she sounds.
"It was a fake date, for media. And now, I'm taking you on a real date, I'm going to lavish you, show you off and just complete spoil you. So whatever you want to do for the rest of the day. That's what we're doing."
Y/n looks torn while Lando smiles awaiting her response. He knows she's never going to pass up an opportunity to do what she wants for a date.
"What'd you wanna do?"
"I just wanna go back to Monaco and go out for dinner."
Maybe no surprise that she wanted to get away from here and go as far as possible.
"How about...since we're in London, we get the Euro star to Paris and then after we get back to Monaco?"
"Paris?" Y/n mumbles trying to hide a smile. "Really?"
"Yeah, I think I realised I maybe need to be more romantic with you anyway." Lando smiles making her frown a little as he leans closer and pecks her lips. "I love you, even if you're pouty when you're all jealous."
"I love you too...how was it?" Y/n mumbles making him wrinkle his nose.
"She's not you...I'd rather record one of our dates and post it online that do that again." Lando shrugs then smiling. "Alright, baby. To Paris. Might capture some of our date for the movie account."
"The account you have yet to post on?" Y/n snorts earning a grin.
"I got plans for Australia." Lando shrugs earning a hum from the young woman.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess
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cartierre · 30 days
Text
AGORA HILLS | ln4
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!russell!reader
side note: i'm depressed and the f1 season is starting soon again so here we go. side note pt2: this is kinda short and the ending feels rushed but oh well
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y/n_russell permanent shenanigans
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user1 oh that's not-
user2 oh she didn't- yes she did
user3 y/n getting a lando norris tramp stamp was not on my 2023 bingo card ⤷ user4 i don't think it was ever on anyone's bingo card
landonorris mine ⤷ y/n_russell yours 🤞
user5 i can't decide if it's cringe or a major slay
georgerussell63 i don't know if i should strangle you or norris ⤷ y/n_russell maybe neither of us?
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tagged: yourfriend, yourotherfriend, landonorris
y/n_russell pizza boy always knows how to capture my heart
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user6 lando and y/n being in their hot couple era was not on my 2024 bingo card ⤷ user7 no couple does it like y/n and lando
user8 i'm a bit concerned about their recent behaviour, ngl
landonorris i'm a professional pizza boy off season ⤷ y/n_russell earning some extra money to spoil your girl? ⤷ user9 so you admit you use lando for his money? ⤷ y/n_russell sorry your partner apparently doesn't know how to treat you. i'd be bitter as well if i were you
user10 y/n being totally unhinged is my favourite type of media ⤷ user11 george being the emotionally older sibling and y/n being the unbothered younger sibling makes so much sense
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y/n_russell to clear some things up: obviously george isn't always happy with how lando and i present our relationship (online or not) but that doesn't mean he hates lando?! i'm his little sister, it's natural he doesn't always enjoy what lando and i do. nonetheless, lando and george have been friends for ages! this was literally them on our shared holiday in '23! carmen and i were third-wheeling the whole time lol. george can sometimes be a little cold but that's just how he processes things, it doesn't mean he's not supportive of my relationship with lando. please respect that.
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y/n_russell accurate representation of how i felt after watching george and lando's "drama" on drive to survive. now i understand why y'all blew this whole situation up.
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user12 now she knows how we all felt watching that episode
user13 me when i watch dts in general
user14 me when i hear the dutch national anthem yet again
user15 me when i think of charles not winning wdc because ferrari literally sucks
landonorris me when i realise y/n won't attend every race ⤷ y/n_russell um excuse me i'm a working gyal
user16 me when life
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tagged: mclaren, mercedesamgf1
y/n_russell maybe i should become lando's and george's pr manager when it means getting flowers from their teams
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user17 no cuz that is so cute that they sent her flowers cuz she solved the whole lando-george drama
user18 that's why they both are my favourite teams
mclaren the contract is ready to be signed! ⤷ mercedesamgf1 not if she choses us first! after all, blood is thicker than water
user19 not mclaren and mercedes fighting over y/n
user20 i wonder which flowers are from who
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toxicanonymity · 8 months
Note
omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!
EVERY INCH 2
2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader
follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3
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SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his. A/N: He's never unmasked so ANY Ghostface with a 🍆. Thank you so much for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of the engagement & enthusiasm so keep that in mind. night walks coded. WARNINGS: I8+ peeping tom behavior, dirty talk on phone, masturbation, dom!ghostface, knifeplay, p in v, noncon, use of daddy (once, by GF), hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 
You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see.
It's his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 
It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  
The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"
"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 
You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."
"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."
"What do you want?"
"I asked how you liked the movie." 
Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 
"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."
Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 
He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”
"wishful thinking," you reply. 
Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”
You’re not even going to argue. 
“How was your date?" 
"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.
"You didn't look interested.” 
"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.
"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”
You freeze. 
He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"
You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"
"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 
You scoff. 
". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"
"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."
"Pervert."
“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.
"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  
You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 
“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 
Are you that predictable?  
“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 
“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 
Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal
“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 
“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 
“Yeah, that’s it . . .”
You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 
He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.
You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 
"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 
He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?
“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 
"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 
You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 
“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 
You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 
“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 
“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”
“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.
“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 
“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”
You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 
—---
You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.
“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  
“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”
You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   
The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.
“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 
The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  
He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  
You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 
“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 
He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 
The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 
“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.
“Who are you?”
“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.
“What do you want?”
“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 
He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 
The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 
“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 
He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.
“Good girl,” he says.
His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 
------
Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.
“Now where’s my knife.”
“I don’t have it,” you claim. 
“I don’t believe you.” 
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s mine.” 
“The cops have it.” 
“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”
You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 
He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.
NEXT: PART 3
--------------------------
Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.
Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.
Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹
@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.
Slasher master list
@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07
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love-belle · 10 months
Text
it's golden like daylight !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which the whole internet thinks that they're over but it's just a new beginning for them.
or
for when you know it's forever. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hello!! my first time writing for charles so i really hope u like it!! requests are open <3 thank you so much for reading, i love you <3
≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱
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≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, yourbestfriend and 782,517 others
yourusername loving him was red 🍒
5,829 comments
username hahahahaha "was" hahahaha
username IS THIS A CONFIRMATION WHAT???? HELLO????
username what if this was my last straw.
yourbestfriend red is your colour fr
*liked by yourusername*
username guys..........i hate to say it but i think it's true
-> username no.
-> username lol what??? nooooOoooOOO??? they're legally not allowed to break up
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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liked by y/n444angels, f1aaliyah, wag_.updates and others
f1newz formula one driver, charles leclerc and singer/songwriter y/n y/l/n have called it quits on their relationship of 4 years, sources close to the pair claim. "it just wasn't working out," the source explained, referring to the long distance between them and their busy schedules. "it just felt like the relationship had run its course," they continued, "obviously, they still hold a lot of respect for each other and will continue to remain close friends, as there's no bad blood between them." for more details, click on the link in our bio.
1,827 comments
username what do u MEAN that the relationship just RAN its course?????
username no bc the idea that a relationship can just be over like that, just "run its course" and that you had a limited time with your person, your partner and now it's over. it's so heartbreaking. my heart is breaking for both of them, they were so in love with each other 💔💔💔
username source is like "just trust me on this" lmfaooooo
username no way im believing this shit after charles called her his "motivation and the reason he pushes himself to do much better because she deserves the best"
username her caption, their interaction the last few weeks, this 😬😬😬 it all seems to be adding up i fear
username LMFAOOO NICE JOKE 🤣🤣🤣🙏🙏🙏🤪🤪🤪 !!!!!!!!!!!
username "to my muse, i already had an idea of what love would be like but u taught me a whole new meaning of it, i love u forever and ever in each and every lifetime" and u say they broke up???? bro they're not universally allowed to.
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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charles_leclerc stuck with me forever now 💌 cannot wait to slow dance around the kitchen at 3 in the morning for the rest of our lives. i didn't "fall" in love with you, i purposely, intentionally loved you and i always will, in this lifetime and all the others. any person would have been lucky to call you their love and i thank my skies and my constellations that i got to be that lucky person. here's to our forever ❤️ i love you
tagged yourusername
18,827 comments
username OH NY GOF
username SHUR THE FUCK UP WHAT OU M UHDO
username i just fell to my knees in walmart what.
yourusername forever never looked so good, i love you more than words could convey ❤️
-> charles_leclerc i love you mon ange ❤️
username hahahahahahaha!!!! ok!!!!!!!! nice!!!!!! happy for u!!!!!!!!!!!
username can't believe we really lost mother to a guy that drives around for a living
-> username i could be an uber driver just sayin 😮‍💨
danielricciardo the hardest secret to keep!! cannot wait to third wheel u for the rest of my life 🙏🙏🙏
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username I JUST SCREAMED SO LOUD OH MY GOD
lorenzotl the best sister in law ❤️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
lewishamilton congratulations ❤️❤️❤️ can finally post the pictures from that night ‼️
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username IM SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
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yourusername it's golden like daylight ❤️‍🩹
been waiting my entire life to use these lyrics, thank u charles for finally making it happen 🙏 also, i love you and i cannot wait for our future?????? kinda sad u beat me at proposing first but it's okay bc i love the ring (and you!!!!!!) thank u for making me the happiest person alive ❤️❤️❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
19,178 comments
username THE CONTRAST IN THEIR CAPTIONS
username poetic bf 🤝 funny gf
username i love them your honour
carlossainz55 it took him 27938291 hours to pick a damn ring so u better cherish that rock
-> yourusername it's tiffany how could i not??? (it's perfect thank u for helping him out ❤️‍🩹)
username SHE'S SO AJAJSJKAJSJSKA
charles_leclerc it was about time i put a ring on that 💍💍
-> yourusername REALLLLLL (i love you so much thank u thank u thank u i love you u make me feel like all the colours of a sunset, all the hues)
username they're so ☹️☹️☹️
arthur_leclerc can't believe you're gonna be my sister in law (i love u, thank u for making him and us the happiest by being in our lives)
-> yourusername better get used to it (i love you all so much, my forever family)
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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months
Text
I know what they call you.
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🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.
🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin
wc: 11k 
cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)
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foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.
Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!
___
It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.
You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.
“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”
Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”
You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”
She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”
Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 
So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.
Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.
Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.
If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).
Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 
“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.
“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 
When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”
“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 
Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”
What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 
So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.
You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?
With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.
The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”
The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.
Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 
“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”
“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”
Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”
You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”
He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.
“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”
“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.
You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 
Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.
You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”
You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”
“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.
You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 
Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”
Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.
He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”
Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 
Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.
The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”
“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.
“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.
“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”
“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.
He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”
“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”
As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.
“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”
“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”
The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”
“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 
Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”
He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 
You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 
___
You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.
The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.
You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.
When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.
While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.
Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”
“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”
You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”
“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.
The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.
“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”
“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.
It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”
Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”
Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 
You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 
You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.
You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 
Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.
You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.
“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”
“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”
You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.
Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 
Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”
You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”
His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”
That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.
Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.
Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”
Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”
“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 
Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”
“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.
He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”
Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”
That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”
Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”
Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”
Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.
Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”
“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.
Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”
Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 
Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.
“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”
You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 
“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.
“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 
“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”
“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.
“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”
“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”
Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”
“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.
Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”
Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 
“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.
“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”
“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”
Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”
You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.
“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”
“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”
A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”
“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”
You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.
But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 
“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”
“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”
Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.
You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 
____
Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.
You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 
Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.
Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference
“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 
“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.
You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.
But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 
Or weed. That tends to work, too.
You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.
He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”
When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.
“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.
“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.
“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”
“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”
When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.
“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.
His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 
“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”
“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”
His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”
This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.
He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 
A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 
You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.
“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.
“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”
You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 
“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.
His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”
Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.
“Got a light?”
You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.
Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.
Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 
He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”
“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”
He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”
His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.
Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”
Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.
“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”
“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.
“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”
“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 
Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”
This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.
“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”
The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”
Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 
“I know what they call you.”
Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”
It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.
Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.
You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”
His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.
With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”
“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 
He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”
You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.
Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.
Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.
If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.
In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.
There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.
Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 
By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.
“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”
The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.
When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”
Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.
___
So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 
Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 
While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.
Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 
You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.
By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.
He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 
Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.
He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.
“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.
You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”
That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”
A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.
“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 
When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.
“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”
There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.
He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.
“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”
He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”
And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.
Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”
You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 
“Yeah?”
When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 
Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.
“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.
Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 
Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.
“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 
When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”
A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.
“I want to hear you say it.”
The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 
You say it. “I want your mouth.”
Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.
“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.
You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”
He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.
You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 
“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 
“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 
“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.
And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.
It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 
There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.
It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.
Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 
You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.
Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 
When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”
You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.
“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”
Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”
Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.
“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”
His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.
The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.
“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”
You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.
Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.
The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 
“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”
In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.
You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.
“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”
Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.
Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.
That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.
You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.
The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.
When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.
You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.
Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.
There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.
As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”
You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.
His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 
“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.
Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.
“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”
“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.
Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 
“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 
When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.
Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.
He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 
“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.
It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 
But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.
You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 
You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.
“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”
Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”
“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”
You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 
“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”
From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”
He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”
________
Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.
You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 
There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.
“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”
“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.
Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 
You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”
She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.
Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”
“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.
“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”
Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.
Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”
“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”
This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 
___________________
I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao
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wonryllis · 2 months
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ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚
𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375
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prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo
JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided
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"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.
he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.
look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.
and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.
"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"
"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.
"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.
"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.
fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.
"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.
"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"
"get away!"
just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.
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"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.
"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.
"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.
"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.
you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"
"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.
it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.
"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.
"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.
"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.
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"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.
"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.
"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.
"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.
"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.
pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.
dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.
"kiss me,"
and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.
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taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly
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kissxcore · 5 months
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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔!) — GETO SUGURU
ya'll have seen loser gojo it's time for loser suguru. f!reader,non-curse!au
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the thing about suguru is that he doesn't see it coming.
he's been a teacher for well over five years now, and yet, he's never been confronted with this type of audacity before—it's disappointing, honestly, that he's already working overtime on the third day of school. he used to tease nanami for leaving work at exactly five p.m. but he gets it now; school got out at 3:00 but shoko told him that there was a mother who could only pick her children up at 4:30, which he understands, accidents happen all the time, but it's 5:30 now and there's no sight of you.
"mr. geto, mr. geto!"
...okay, maybe it's not too bad.
it turns out that the two students that you left behind are really cute. geto turns around only to see mimiko tugging at the wide part of his trousers as she points to her sister, he follows the line of sight to see nanako standing proud and tall next to a block tower the two of them have made. it's made up of colorful and boxy wooden rectangles, jagged and uneven blocks stacked in something akin to cursed jenga.
his expression softens, and he turns his attention away from the chalkboard, allowing mimiko to lead him to the center of the classroom where they were free to play. he thinks it's funny how they've managed to run through two whiteboards (they've blacked them out and drained an entire expo marker), go fish! cards (which are now strewn everywhere), and now the blocks in less than three hours, but he's by no means angry.
"it's a castle." nanako says matter-of-factly.
"that it is," he agrees easily, nodding along with her, "who lives in this castle?"
"you!" she chirps, her arm wrapping around her sister's, "you're the king and we're your knights, we can protect you around the moats!"
"is that so?" he smiles faintly, moving to stand next to the small tower, "what are you protecting me from?"
"yourself."
before he can ask mimiko what she means by that, he hears the door fly open and a ruffle of clothes.
"i'm so sorry—" he hears you enter the room in a hurry, but as he steps forward to greet you, he catches a glimpse of your face and his foot knocks into the castle that nanako and mimiko had worked so hard on. geto swears he has an out-of-body experience for a second, seeing his body fall to the floor before he reaches consciousness the second his face collides with the carpet. his foot slides against the middle block of the tower, and the collapsing blocks hit the ground the same time he does. his nose smashes against the rough fibers, sending hot bursts of pain up his cartilage as he lets out a weak groan.
he lifts his head up at the sound of a gasp and an "oh my god!" as he comes face-to-face to you, a worried expression on your face with your hand stretched out to help him up as the lights blind you from behind. his mind thinks that now would probably be the worst to ask if you were an angel because it truly does look like you belong in heaven, but even if it's the truest thing he's ever thought in his life, it'd be completely unprofessional to use any pick-up lines on you. he's completely rational, he thinks.
you falter, and you laugh nervously. "um, thanks," god, even your voice is unrealistically beautiful, "you're right though, now probably isn't the best time."
he pauses for a second, looking up at you, confused, before the wheel finally clicks in his head and he bolts off the floor. his ears burn with embarrassment and his palms are sweaty despite how cold the classroom was before the personified version of the literal sun walked into the room. geto isn't bad with girls by any means, he was popular in high school in college alike, how could he fumble the ball so badly?
"...yeah. from yourself." nanako echoes her sister's words plainly.
never have two seven-year-olds ever been so vicious to him.
"i'm um—i'm mr. geto," he wipes his hand quickly on his the hip of his turtleneck before he looks up at you again, "i'm your daughter's teacher, they really are lovely girls—"
"you can say that they're a handful, it's okay," you reassure him, bowing slightly to apologize, "i'm really sorry about leaving them here on short notice, i couldn't get out of work early today and...yeah." you trail off, cutting off your own words before you can say anything else.
"how often are you working?" his eyes shift to your left hand. no ring, he notices.
"um," you shift your purse on your shoulders, "two jobs, both with varying hours, but i—"
"they're free to stay at the school for a little longer," he really wishes he wasn't doing this surrounded by the rubble of the castle walls that your daughters had built for him, but he can't help the situation the way it is, "shoko, the office lady, usually ends up staying around seven and i'm sure she won't mind having them in her office. she loves children, and i'm always free to stay later as long as there's sufficient warning beforehand."
your face goes from concerned, to relieved, to excited as he speaks. it's obvious how tired you are, and yet, you're still hesitant; your girls have been coming here for two years and you had always managed to make it work beforehand.
"the school is extremely safe if that's what's bothering you," he offers, "we pride ourselves in making a safe place for every student, whether it's technically after-school hours or not."
"...thank you so much," your eyes crinkle as you smile in consolation, "we're so lucky to have you."
are you lucky to have him or is he lucky to have you?
nanako, eventually tired of the attention not being on her, bounds up to you, and geto watches as you soften, kneeling down to pat her on the head. mimiko follows right behind her, reaching up to cup your hand before she presses her lips against the edge of your wrist.
it's endearing seeing you interact with them.
"we'll see you tomorrow, thank you again," you stand up before you bow again, and he waves goodbye as you lead your daughters out of the classroom, making your way to shoko's office to make the arrangements you need to make. despite watching him fall right at their mother's feet, geto's heart feels just a bit lighter knowing he'll get to see the two girls again tomorrow.
he takes his sweet time to finish up, drawing up the plan for tomorrow, whistling a tune under his breath as he cleans the whiteboards, casually throwing the blocks back into the toy bin, and making his way out of the hallway in a happier mood than he's been in a while. that is, before he sees his best friend betray him in front of his very eyes.
"and then he physically stumbled on the blocks," gojo practically cackles as he gossips, one arm leaning on the counter of shoko's front office, "he laid eyes on her beauty and actually fell to the ground!"
shoko laughs jovially with him, and geto considers turning around and taking the back exit before gojo sees him, cheerfully yelling out his name and beckoning him over like a dog.
"someone's back in the game, do you like her?" shoko questions him playfully, and his heart burns with embarrassment and something else he can't quite put his finger on.
"no, he grounds out, "well—i meah yeah, but she's—"
"your student's mother, we all know," gojo rolls his eyes, "c'mon, you're not up for a little bit of forbidden romance?"
"not when it's breaking my moral code." sure it's not against the law, but it's morally gray, isn't it? does gojo even have a moral code?
"he says that as if he didn't offer to stay after school two extra hours on wednesdays and fridays for them." shoko informs his best friend like the tattle-tale she is, and gojo lets out a dramatic gasp, his hand reaching up to cover up his mouth.
"suguru, shut up! you need to tell us everything!"
he can already feel the onslaught of a headache coming on.
——
"so...how do you feel about mr. geto?" mimiko asks just about as subtly as a seven-year-old could.
"he's nice," you say offhandedly, and you accidentally make eye contact with her in the rearview mirror, "...he's pretty young to be teaching, isn't he?"
mimiko and nanako burst into giggles, swatting at eachother's shoulders and seatbelts as you sigh, quickly checking over your left to switch a lane.
"mommy, you need to call him suguru the next time you see him!" nanako shouts over the music you play, and you roll your eyes as you continue to drive home.
unbeknownst to you, the two of them share a secret look, smiling at eachother.
it really is a shame that mr. geto didn't see the block that mimiko pushed out just for him.
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ssprayberrythings · 3 months
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our little secret | CL16
charles x female!reader / smau fic 
this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice! 
as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private. 
warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !! 
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked 
life recently ⭐️🫶🌸
view all comments 
user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years 
user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy 
yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest 
╰ yourusername: i know ! 
user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope 
╰ user17: we can only hope 
yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲
╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
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who do i give these flowers too 
view all comments 
fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME 
f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES 
user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded 
landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me 
╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass 
f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: he loves me i swear..😉
*replies disabled*
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
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pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked 
enjoying the sun whenever i can 
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fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow 
charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away
pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..
╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ? 
╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing 
f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier
╰ liked by f1
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked 
me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸
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yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man 
user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes 
yoursister: the hand placement is everything 
╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend 
user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites 
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charles_leclerc posted on instagram 
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charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked 
hikes at sunset > 
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charlesleclercfan_: omg charles 
charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped 
f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to 
user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak 
user2: he looks so happy 
yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked 
my two favourite people 🫶
tagged: @yourbestfriend 
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user2: mystery man once again
user14: the way they go on runs together 
yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset 
╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs 
user12: couples that run together, stay together 
╰ liked by yourusername 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: my whole 🌎 
*replies disabled*
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yourbestfriend posted on their story
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caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername
╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..
╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell
╰ yourusername: will do 😅
charles_leclerc posted on their story
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caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again  
*replies disabled* 
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yourusername posted on their instagram  
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yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked 
gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺
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user3: wait where is he going 
user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up
╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together 
yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon 
“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles 
“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands 
“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled. 
Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him 
“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you 
“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up 
You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship 
“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished. 
“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him 
“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again 
You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side 
“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him. 
Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again. 
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yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: my happy place 🎨
╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days 
╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love 
╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ? 
╰ yourusername: of course ❤️ 
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend 
╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy 
╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂
more replies..
╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details 
╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met 
╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right? 
╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭
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charles_leclerc posted on their instagram  
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f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked 
feels good to be back 🏎️ 
tagged: @scuderiaferrari 
view all comments 
scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season ! 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON 
f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED 
charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT 
Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once. 
Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore. 
“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him 
“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation. 
To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of. 
Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim. 
That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art 
“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you
“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves. 
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yourusername posted on their instagram 
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caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️
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old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know. 
*comments disabled* 
charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram  
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more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know 
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user11: OH MY 
f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS 
f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is 
╰ user15: no clue 
user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen 
user22: i need to know everything 
ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked 
Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.
He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side 
“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand 
“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone. 
When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts 
“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home. 
He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call. 
“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying. 
“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him 
“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it” 
Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend. 
A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read. 
You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline. 
That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line. 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
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caption: he’s back ♥️
╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)
charles_leclerc posted on their story  
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caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍
╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ?? 
╰ carlossainz55: AW
╰ landonorris: soft launch? 
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yourusername posted on their instagram   
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yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked 
i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore. 
happy 3 years mon amour 😘 
tagged: @charles_leclerc
comments have been limited 
charles_leclerc: i love our love 
charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go 
╰ liked by yourusername 
yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹
╰ liked by yourusername
pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute 
╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram    
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yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her 
joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌 
tagged: @yourusername 
comments have been limited
yourusername: i love you 
yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
f1: we’re happy for you:)
maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW 
maxverstappen1: happy for you dude 
carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !! 
╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc 
-
i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️
1K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 6 months
Text
need someone older | fernando alonso x fem! reader
summary; despite the age gap and the hundred of haters on social media, y/n and fernando still show off their relationship
warnings; age gap ( duh )
faveclaim; danna paola
notes; that song on tiktok has been stuck in my head and i’m so happy it’s finally released 😫
masterlist !
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liked by yourusername, lance_stroll, and 1,029,245 others!
fernandoalo_official: is this what the young folks call a photo dump?
tagged; yourusername, lance_stroll
yourusername: LMFAO yes mi viejo [my old man]
fernandoalo_official: hey, watch it
yourusername: when bae buys u a bouquet ❤️‍🔥
fernandoalo_official: ❤️
username: this is so cute
username: lance and fernando😍😍
lance_stroll: i’m tired of being the third wheel😕
fernandoalo_official: i don’t hear you complaining when i take you and y/n to get ice cream
yourusername: you wouldn’t get it !!
username: y/n and fernando’s age gap is so weird
username: i get her tho
username: y/n is sooo prettyyyyy
username: ‘young folks’ he’s so😭😭
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liked by fernandoalo_official, bsfusername, and 1,004,927 others!
yourusername: date night con mi amor 🧡
tagged; fernandoalo_official
fernandoalo_official: siempre tan bella, mi reina [always so beautiful, my queen]
yourusername: y usted siempre tan guapo [and you’re always handsome]
username: thats motheerrr
username: the picture of fernando fixing her shoes omgggg
landonorris: orange is soooo your color 🤗🤗
fernandoalo_official: watch it, it’s green
username: she’s so young compared to fernando it’s weird
username: her bf is old enough to be her father???
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liked by fernandoalo_official, lilymhe, and 1,034,928 others!
yourusername: hating on twitter meanwhile we’re in ibiza
tagged; fernandoalo_official
fernandoalo_official: que hermosura 😍😍 [what a beauty]
yourusername: for you💚
username: gotta admit, she got y’all
lilymhe: can fernando fight bc i want u🤤
alex_albon: i suggest u avoid him
fernandoalo_official: i suggest you listen to alex
yourusername: luv u😝💗💗
username: she dgaf and i respect her for it 😭
username: she’s a GROWN woman who is 100% aware of her actions, leave her and fernando alone😭😭😭
liked by yourusername and fernandoalo_official
username: 4+4=??
username: the last picture, me and who😫😫
username: still think this relationship is weird
username: we don’t care !!!
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liked by yourusername, lance_stroll, and 1,203,927 others!
fernandoalo_official: mi reina. [my queen]
tagged; yourusername
yourusername: te quiero, mi rey [my king]
feenandoalo_official: te quiero siempre [i love you always]
yourusername: mi viejo😁 [my old man]
fernandoalo_official: hey!🤨
username: they’re actually goals
username: REINA?? HE CALLS HER REINA??
username: lmfao not them joking abt their age gap 😭😭
lance_stroll: where r my photo creds
fernandoalo_official: not here
lance_stroll: I HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU TWO ALL THE TIME
yourusername: sorryyyyy😁
username: need a fernando in my life
username: they ate icl
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liked by fernandoalo_official, lilymhe, and 1,094,739 others!
yourusername: think i need someone older.
tagged; fernandoalo_official
fernandoalo_official: te quiero hasta el final, mi reina [i love you until the end, my queen]
yourusername: hasta el final 🤍 te quiero para siempre 🤍 [i love you forever]
username: gagged her haters
username: isabel larosa referenceee
username: don’t think i can ever get over this relationship tbh
lilymhe: knew ur type since you showed me that becky g song
yourusername: exactly 😌
username: mamá y papá
username: i want them both tbh
2K notes · View notes