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#have to bring it to a club meeting to have someone look at it to get it collimated and stuff before we use it
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Otome Game ~ *Idia Shroud*
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Summary: It was Idia's idea to game with you. But when you ask him for help with your otome game, he can't help but notice some similarities between him and your favorite character...
Pairing: Idia Shroud X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1004
Warning: Otome gaming
Masterlist
Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew
It was Idia's idea to game with you, although he only asked because you mentioned that you had a new game that you haven't gotten around to playing yet. You were sure he had ulterior motives when he asked you to hang out, but you didn't bring it up with him as you didn't want to scare him off. Instead, you simply grabbed your game and met him at his dorm.
Ortho was more than excited to see you. You always held a special affection to Idia's little brother that didn't go unnoticed by both parties. On more than one occasion when you weren't around, Ortho would beg his brother to finally ask you out. But Idia was far too terrified to approach you with a romantic relationship. So he simply settled for a friendship that he would never ever, ever, EVER take advantage of.
Idia made sure to clean his room before you arrived and you were pleasantly surprised. Whenever you crashed the Board Game Club meetings, Azul would go on and on about how filthy his room was. Still, you didn't point it out to him. You didn't want to make him feel any more self-conscious than he already was.
After exchanging some casual pleasantries, the two of you fell into your gaming. It was calm and relaxing. You found yourself enjoying your time with the dorm leader of Ignihyde more than you anticipated. He was considerate about your own gaming experience and kept his reactions to his game quiet. Every so often you would look up and watch what he was doing, asking questions when you felt it was appropriate. He answered all of your questions with ease and even reciprocated by asking questions about your game. All and all, it was the perfect afternoon with one of your favorite people.
Then you hit a rough patch in your game. Your sigh of frustration alerted Idia, who knew exactly what it meant: you needed help. Now, Idia doesn't like to boast about his exceptional skills when it comes to video games, but surely he could appear like your knight in shining armor and lend you a hand?
"What's wrong?" He softly asks, his gaze still trained on the game he was playing.
"I'm stuck. I don't know which boyfriend to choose." You mumble, flicking through the different options in your otome game.
Idia thought it was a good thing you weren't paying attention to him as his hair flickered pink for a brief moment. He fumbled with his control to pause his game before finally addressing your issue.
"What, what do you mean?"
You showed him the screen of your game console. "So my new game is an otome game. I have seven boys to choose from. I just completed the intro and now I have to pick one, but I don't know who to choose."
He frowned and looked at your options. "Why don't you just pick one that you like and then do the other routes later."
"That's the problem. You can only choose once. If I want to complete the other routes, I have to buy another game. It's a major capitalism scheme, but I thought the game looked fun." You shrug. "Any idea who I should choose?"
"Uh... why don't you tell me about them and then I'll help you decide."
You nod with a smile that makes the tips of his hair turn pink again. "Okay in order here you have: Ryushi, the strict student body president who just needs someone to soften his edges, Ietsuna, the lazy slacker who only cares about you, Amane, the bad boy who likes to tease and torment, Kobo, the golden retriever who is the fan favorite, Michinori, the cultured exchange student who is a little fruity in my opinion, Masanobu, the secret prince of the school who would do anything for you, and Ichibei, the otaku with a heart of gold."
"Wow." He's surprised with how typical the choices are like every other otome game. He would normally say pick the one you're most interested in as they're pretty average, but considering you can only make one choice, you have to be careful. "I guess I'd have to say the choice is up to you."
You give him a pout. "You're really going to make me make such a tough decision all on my own? You're so mean, Idia!"
He panics at your words, not meaning to make you upset with him. "Well I mean it's your game! You should pick the boy you feel is the most special to you! I can't really help you make that decision."
"I suppose you're right..."
"Who do you feel is special?"
You shrug and glance back at your choices. "Well, I first thought about Masanobu because who wouldn't want to be a princess? But I felt he was trying too hard in the prologue to try and gain your favor. So I went through the options again and I'm stuck on two: Amane and Ichibei."
He tried to not let you know how surprised and flustered he was. "Oh?"
You nod. "I mean, I'm so like other girls when I say I love a bad boy, but Ichibei... he seemed so sweet and shy. I couldn't help but be drawn to him. I think he might be my favorite."
Your explanation was not helping the poor boy's rapidly beating heart. Based on your little description about him, Idia couldn't help but see similarities between him and Ichibei. Was this your subtle way of saying he was your favorite too? Was it too much to hope that that was true?
"I think you should go with your favorite."
You beamed at his words and his heart skipped several beats. "I think you're absolutely correct! Thank you Idia!"
"You're welcome." He mumbled and tried to return to his game. But he was distracted. Your words and your choice hit him harder than he anticipated. Perhaps Ortho was right. He should ask you out…
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f4iry-bell · 2 days
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stained shirts and two seats for one [Grayson hawthorne x reader] | part 5
finally!!😭 also last part(?)
It took everything in Grayson to stay away from her but he couldn't take it any longer. He has to see her and apologise again, he would beg until she forgives him. He knocked on her apartment door and mentally revised his monologue— that if she is ready to listen without interrupting. His mentally prepared monologue vanished once she opened the door in her pyjamas.
“What are you doing here?” She asked him with a frown.
“I know you said you wanted space, and I'm glad to give it to you but you need to understand why I did what I did. I understand why you are mad, you have every right to. I didn't respect your privacy. I didn't think how it would look, I had you stalked for my personal selfish reasons. I had to know what kind of person I'm getting myself involved with. I can't afford to make mistakes. Please understand, it was never my intention to hurt you. I would never go too far either.” It wasn't what he prepared mentally but he somehow managed to spit out words.
“You wanted to know if I was a criminal or something?” She asked.
“If we are putting it that way, yes.” He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes.
“Look, Grayson. I'd say I understand, it's probably some rich people thing. But I still have to process this, okay?” She raised her eyebrows at the last part.
“I understand. You need time. I'll be on my way. Please don't let everything go.” He begged.
She didn't say anything but when he turned she stopped him. “Wait.”
“What is it?” He asked, ready to do anything she is going to ask him.
“Um, it's nothing. I'm going out with a few friends tonight. A club. I thought you should know.” He didn't know why she him know this.
“You’re allowed to do what you please.” He stated.
“There'll be guys.” She paused for a moment. “My friends wanted me to meet someone because of…”
“I hope you enjoy your time.”
“But I'm not going to.”
Well that was a relief for him.
“I trust you to do the right thing and the thing you want, Arya.”
_
It would be a deliberate lie if Grayson said he was not bothered by the fact that his girlfriend or whatever they are now is out in a club probably being set up with a random guy by her friends. Grayson can't sleep on a good day let alone a time like this, he was swimming like a mad man in the hotel’s pool and had to stop because his phone rang. He saw her name on the screen and immediately answered it.
“Are you okay?” He asked. It was his first thought.
“Yes! But I miss you, so, so, so much.” Her words slurred.
“How many drinks did you have?” He asked.
“You're an idiot! When I said I'm going to the club you should have said ‘Can I come?’”
“I didn't think you'd want me there.”
“Of course not, but you should have stopped me from coming to this lame hangout.” She scoffs.
“Lame? Why is that?”
“I'm not having the fun my friend promised me.” She said. “What are you doing now?” She asked.
“I was swimming right before you called me.” He told her.
“Are you naked?” She asked in a teasing manner.
“Not fully.”
“Not helping.”
“With what?”
“Come here.” She didn't answer his questions.
“Where?”
“To the club, obviously.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hundred percent.”
He let her hang up the phone and went to his room to get changed. He put on a suit and drove to the club she told him she was at. When he arrived at the club he found her at the bar counter talking about some random things to the bartender.
“Arya.” He called her name from behind.
“Gray!” She turned to him and back to the bartender. “This is the guy I was talking about!” She told the bartender. “Ronnie here asked me to file a restraining order against you.” She giggled.
“I think it's time to go home.” He told her, ignoring the last part.
“What? Why?” She asked with a scowl.
“You're wasted, love.” He gently grabbed her arms and helped her up.
“I called you here to have fun with me!” She whines.
“You need to lay down, you're way too drunk to be out here.” He wrapped his arms around her waist to get a hold on her as he led her out.
“Am I?”
He nodded and helped her to get inside his car and put on her seatbelt. He started diving slowly to her apartment after he gave her a bottle of water. After drinking the water she took out her phone and texted someone.
“Who are you texting?” He asked out of curiosity.
“My other boyfriend.” She grinned playfully.
“Funny.”
“I'm texting my friends letting them know I left.” She informed him. “I made a new friend.”
“Oh?”
“You know him! Ronnie. He doesn't like you.” She said.
“For good reasons.” There was guilt in his voice.
She kept talking about what she told Ronnie until they reached her apartment. Grayson decided it's better to carry her and she didn't fight it. He let her down once they reached her door. She opened the door by herself and let him in as well.
“I'll leave now. Call me if you need anything.” He turned to leave but she stopped him. He turned back to her, instead of saying something she pulled him by his tie to make his head reach her level and gently kissed him.
Grayson was surprised by this. It has been a week since they kissed. Or even be this close. He didn't kiss her back, she is only kissing him because she's intoxicated.
“Kiss me.” She whispered against his lips.
“You're drunk.” He stated.
“So?”
“You don't want to kiss me. And you're drunk, I'm not that kind of man.”
“Just kiss me. Didn't you stalk me? Or had someone stalked me? Shouldn't you be like, I don't know, obsessed with me or something?” She asked out of frustration.
“I am obsessed with you. But I can't let this happen when you're drunk.”
She rolled her eyes and paused for a moment before she spoke. “Why did you do it? Why did you have to do it? Why couldn't you be a normal hot guy? You ruined everything.”
“I know.” He took her hands. “I'll do everything I can to make it better.”
“I know you will. That's the problem.” She groans.
“Why?”
“Because I will forgive you.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. What will people say? Going back to the guy who professionally stalked you?”
“Who cares what they think?”
“I do.” She looked down. He took her face in his hands.
“It's totally up to you. You can be with me or not. It's your choice.”
She didn't say anything. “Will you stay over tonight?” She asked.
“Whatever you want, love.”
“Liar. You didn't kiss me and let things get heated up.” She reminded him.
“Ask me tomorrow.” He told her with a mischievous smile.
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ocdhuacheng · 6 months
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BROS I CAME HOME FROM WORK TO FIND THAT SOMEONE HAD GIVEN US A WHOLE ASS TELESCOPE‼️‼️‼️ FOR FREE‼️‼️‼️
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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.
NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.
I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.
The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.
Because it's so hard to exist in this world.
My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:
Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)
Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.
Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.
Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.
Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.
Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s
I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.
So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".
Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)
Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.
If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.
NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD
Stigma in the DSM
Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)
"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."
(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)
#actuallynpd#signal boost#actuallyautistic#mental health awareness#narcissistic personality disorder#people also need to realize that mental health professionals aren't immune from bias#(it really shouldn't come as a shock that the mental health field has a longstanding pattern of misunderstanding and mistreating ppl who ar#mentally ill or otherwise ND)#the first therapist i brought up NPD to like. literally pulled out the DSM bc she could barely remember the criteria. then said that there'#no way I have it because I have low self-esteem lmaoooooo#anyway throwback to being at work and chatting with a co-worker. and the conversation turning to mental health. and him saying that#he tries to stay informed and be aware and supportive of mental health conditions & that he doesn't want to be ignorant or spread harmful#misinformation. and then i mentioned that i do a lot of research into mental health stuff and i listed a bunch of things. which included#several personality disorders. one of which was NPD.#and after listening to my whole ass list he zeroed in on the NPD and immediately started talking about how narcissists are abusive and#he knew someone who had NPD and how the person who had it had an addiction and died from the addiction in a horrible way and he#was glad he did#fun times#or when i decided to be vulnerable and talk abt my self-criticism/self-hatred bc i knew my friends also struggled w that and i wanted to#support them by sharing my own coping methods. and they both(separately!) started picking and prodding at my npd through the lens of stigma#bc i'd recently opened up to them abt having it. they recognized self-hatred as a symptom and still jumped on me for it. despite me#trying to share hurt vulnerable parts of myself to help them and connect with them.#again..... fun times
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buckys-robot-arm · 1 year
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Everything is ruined and now I’m fired for sure because I sent in the form a day late
#may get kicked off the club board because I don’t get social cues and then ruin someone’s day because of it#half of the issues the pres brought up could’ve easily been solved if the board members I upset told me ‘hey please don’t say that to me’#instead of going right to A. some stuff I can chalk up to overstimulation/overwhelm in the moment but he wouldn’t see that. only my reaction#and I try so fucking hard to internalize it and not let my stress come out. he doesn’t even see how long little things have been building up#and I don’t expect anyone to as I can’t even see it#but there’s so many times ig I say the wrong thing and idek(hello? autism?)that I did. bc nobody communicates!!#and now bc I submitted the form a day after exactly 2 weeks. we’d have to move the meeting a day later. and our meetings aren’t on Tuesdays#and now L is just always looking at me with disdain and I cant just ask her wtf I did wrong bc I said there was no need to mention any of it#and she’s also dating A so I know he tells her EVERYTHING about what I did. I’m positive she knows about the impeachment#she wouldn’t look at me like that otherwise. it’s like there’s no light in her eyes when she isn’t laughing/smiling and looking at me#I just want people to tell me that they do in fact hate me bc that’s a lot simpler to deal with than radio silence and ambiguous looks#just tell me that I’m an idiot who doesn’t have their shit together and won’t make it in the world being disorganized#and unable to bring myself to talk about other people’s conversations#I needed to rant here bc half the people on my priv story are all fucking 6 degrees of separation from A. and he’d know. somehow#at least nobody irl knows what my url is. some people know I’m on here. but they certainly don’t have a clue what I go by at least
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coco-loco-nut · 20 days
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Book Club
Pairing: The grid x driver!reader, Lance Stroll x reader
Summary: A wild goose chase ensues when you are at a meeting with your book club
requests are open (plz send some, i can’t keep only getting ideas while driving 🥺) masterlist
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“Guys, have you seen y/n?” Lance panics, rushing into the McLaren garage. It’s not the first time his girlfriend had disappeared from her garage but he’s always been able to find you a few steps away.
“She’s missing?” Lando leaped out of his chair. “Come on, Oscar, we gotta find her,” Lando drags his teammate out of the garage, following Lance to the Mercedes garage to find George.
“Any y/n sightings?” a very stressed out Lance asks.
“No, but now I am invested,” the Brit tags along in the search, hopping over to the Ferrari garage.
“Mes amis, you seem stressed,” Charles says, looking up from his book.
“Y/n is missing, Lance can’t find his girlfriend,” Oscar sighs, not sure why he isn’t leaving the group.
“No, we must join the quest, Charles,” Carlos says, clapping his teammate on the shoulder.
“Alright, only for y/n,” Charles, like oscar, begrudgingly agrees to join the ‘noble quest’.
Meanwhile, y/n is sitting on the couch, wearing a chunky cardigan and a pair of fashion glasses, sipping tea.
“No, Lizzy was clearly in love with Darcy even then,” Fernando waves his hands. This month’s book was Pride and Prejudice.
“Sure, Fernando,” Valtteri rolls his eyes.
The book club, affectionately called ‘The Old Drivers Club’ started when y/n barged into the Haas garage, claiming she needed their opinions and that she was tired of all the young drivers. Despite her being only 21, she found a home with some of the older drivers in the Paddock. The club consisted of her, Fernando, Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. Lewis wanted to hold on to his youth, as he claimed, and Checo didn’t quite care for their gossip sessions.
“I still don’t understand how you can go from a 20 year old party animal to a 80 year old grandma overnight,” Kevin teases the young girl, bringing up a common point of conversation (usually her complaining about the younger drivers).
“And I don’t understand how you all don’t find Nico attractive? If I was ten years older, I would be all over him. God damn, what a fine man,” you swoon, causing the German to blush fiercely.
“Yes, yes, someone who could outshine Charles Leclerc in his prime,” Fernando dismisses it with the wave of his hand. You giggle and refocus on the book discussion.
“Nando,” you prompt him, silently asking him to go to the next topic.
“Alright, alright, let’s discuss what was probably y/n’s favorite scene, the confession scene. The second one, not in the rain,” Fernando says, and you shyly look down, the older drivers knowing you too well.
“Max, Checo, have you seen y/n?” Lance asks, even more flustered, half the grid behind him.
“Y/n? Why do you ask?” Max says, looking at his teammate.
“She’s missing!” Lando exclaims causing Checo to laugh.
“No, no. She’s with her book club, in the Haas motor home. I sometimes join them, interesting gossip, but not quite for me, no,” Checo says, looking oddly at the group.
“Her- her book club?” Lance asks, utterly confused.
“Si. Lewis has been invited too, but he claims he is too young,” Checo laughs to himself.
“Sorry mate, a book club?” George asks, a little offended he was never invited.
“And gossip? I’m a little offended I’ve never been invited,” Pierre gasps.
“Well? Is that all,” Max asks, wanting the group to leave his garage.
“Right, well I guess we go to Haas,” Carlos says, quickly thanking the Red Bull drivers.
“VALTTERI!” Your astonished gasp is heard from outside. Your group had moved on to what some think is the more enjoyable part of the evening, the gossip.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, we were worried sick,” Lando dramatically says at the doorway, having opened the door, revealing your group. The five of you look at the other group wildly confused.
“Worried sick?” You ask, looking at them.
“You were missing, I couldn’t find you,” Lance scratches the back of his neck, a little confused.
“I,” you pause before laughing. “Lancelot, you could’ve texted me,” you tell him.
“Why weren’t Pierre and I invited?” George asks, looking accusingly at your group.
“You don’t fit the criteria,” Kevin says, dismissing the question.
“And y/n does?” Pierre asks.
“Yes. When she sits upside down on your couch to gossip and complain about you all, and ask for life advice, then we might consider it,” Nico shakes his head.
“She is the founder of our group,” Valtteri points out.
“You also have to find young Nico attractive, more than current Charles,” Fernando teases, causing the young girl to blush.
“He was!” You defend yourself, and Carlos nods in agreement.
“Your girlfriend, mate. I���m surprisingly glad I tagged along,” Oscar says to Lance, pretty amused at the chaos.
“Out of curiosity, what is your next book?” George asks, your face lighting up.
“We are on a classics kick right now, so we are reading the No Fear version of Romeo and Juliet,” you say excitedly causing George and Charles to groan.
“We can’t join?” Charles asks again.
“Sorry, Leclerc, only room for one hot driver here,” Nico winks at you, causing your cheeks to redden.
“HEY!” most of the drivers in the room take offense to it, Lando mainly because the wink was directed at his girlfriend.
“Alas, if only you didn’t have a wife and kid, and I was ten years older,” you sigh, shaking your head.
“In another life, Mein Liebchen,” Nico sighs as well.
“Alright, I’m stealing back my girlfriend,” Lance pulls you away.
“Lancelot,” you giggle, waving goodbye to your book club.
“It is in these moments that I remember how young she is and how old we are,” Fernando sighs, Lewis taking your seat.
“My bones ache more and more each day, mate,” Lewis shakes his head.
“Welcome to our club, have the first act read by the next race,”
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bluejutdae · 2 months
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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you
Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin
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genre: friends to lovers
warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home
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This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.
Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.
But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.
You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”
His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”
Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.
Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.
A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.
“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.
“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.
You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.
“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”
“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.
Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.
“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”
“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”
“Fuck you, Minho!”
You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.
You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.
“I parked in the other direction.”
“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”
“You are my problem.”
“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.
“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”
“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”
“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”
“I didn’t say a problem.”
“You said exac-“
“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”
You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.
“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”
“Yes.”
This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.
“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.
“I didn’t.”
“You were on a date.”
“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”
“Means exactly that.”
“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”
“Not when it’s about you.”
This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?
“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”
“Good.”
“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”
“You like weird.”
“I do.”
“You’re normal. I like normal.”
He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.
You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”
You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”
His smile is all you need.
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ghostgirl101 · 5 months
Text
Oliver Quick Being Obsessed With You Would Include...
A/N: Watched this recently and got too many ideas because it's what I do 😀 if you've got any requests for the Saltburn crew then drop them in my inbox and I'll get round to them. Have fun reading- just know that there are obviously spoilers for the Saltburn movie here, so if you haven't watched it, zip to the cinema and come back 😎 or don't.
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☓• It's hard to know where to start with Oliver... all I can say is that once you're in his sights, you're never getting out of them. Big never. Even if he has to wait years to get what he wants, he'll wait, and he will get it. And of course, the it we're talking about here is lucky you. So lucky you 🙃
☓• Say goodbye to your close friends and possibly your family if they're taking up too much of your time or happen to see through his harmless, quiet, normal act to something a lot darker and obsessive tainting his pure blue eyes every time they latch onto you. No one's managed to get in his way yet, and it stays that way.
☓• The first unknowing encounter with Oliver must have been somewhere around Oxford Uni, where you all go to and study. Maybe in the library, outside talking to friends - doing practically anything and making it look amazing and beautiful and something to be wanted above anything. He watches you a lot, a lot a lot, before you bump into each other, because the meeting has to be perfectly natural and it's his only chance to start things off on the right foot.
☓• Coincidences happen a lot and no one can be called out on them, because nothing seems to be wrong yet. You'll end up spending the majority of your time with him, maybe even without realising, whilst he finds out ways to know more about you and get closer to you. Oliver's not so good when it comes to talking about himself, telling you with one of his awkward but earnest half-smiles that he's not half as interesting, and so the conversation ends up steering back to you. From family life to friends, growing up, hobbies, favourite colour, tell him anything and everything. Because he won't forget a single thing.
☓• He's easy with where you want to go to hang out too, so long as he's there. You could just be talking with your friends in the nearby pub or at a party where the invite was extended to him as he's with you, or studying together at the library. Ignore the weird looks from Michael.
☓• But what Oliver prefers above all that is just being together and alone, maybe in your dorm room, or just out somewhere at a park or at the bridge, sitting and talking, opening yourself up more and more to him. This boy is an incredible listener. If your voice trails off when you become self-conscious of how much you're rambling, all you'll get in response is Oliver blinking out of his trance and giving you a calm smile and a shrug. "No, it's fine, I don't mind. Carry on."
☓• Number one supporter, naturally. Oliver tries to be the best friend and more, so hard, with you. He'll be anything you want and need him to be without you even having to mention it. Whatever club or team you're on, he'll give you a little wave and small grin from the sidelines... take a few pictures when you're not looking. For safekeeping.
☓• It can get more than a little frustrating for him when you're distracted by your other 'friends' at Oxford, even if it's something as small as looking over essay answers and revision notes with Farleigh. There's always a back-and-forth thing happening between those two, and so when Farleigh starts becoming friendly with you and outrightly mocking with Oliver, to you, all that will happen is Oliver giving him an unblinking, blank look that looks a touch too cold and repressive, before he ignores him. And that's all you'll ever know about it.
☓• If you happen to stick up for Oliver when someone brings up how different and odd he is, a bit awkward to talk to and a cheapskate or whatever, he'll never get over it. You stuck up for him. That just proves that he was right about you, from the second his dark gaze latched onto your unknowing self just a few weeks ago. He was right. You're... perfect.
☓• There's so much good about Oliver, that if you ever hear anything different, it's hard to actually believe it. It's just Farleigh causing trouble, or gossip that has gotten out of hand again, not actual hints of something deeper bubbling beneath the surface. Oliver would never watch you outside your dorm room at night, what are they on about? And when Oliver hears of them too, or gets the worries out of you when he instantly notices that something's up, he'll act as effortlessly, convincingly confused as you are. If there's the slightest bit of proof in the accusation, he'll cover it up with a flawless explanation that swerves away from him and onto someone else within a second, while still seeming without grudges towards anyone. "You shouldn't listen to them, they're just trying to get in your head. Or maybe they want you for themself or something. I mean, I can understand that. Completely."
☓• You will eventually notice just how clingy Oliver can get when he seems to be everywhere around you, and you might be looking for a moment to yourself. If you gently bring it up, he'll reluctantly go on the promise that you'll text him back, which gives him time to change tactics. He will go as far as saying someone in his family died, or as small as admitting that the isolation from everyone who is so different to him in this place makes him feel a bit broken up. Maybe he should leave? And you, being you, encourage him to stay on and hang out with you and your friends, and boom, his back in.
☓• It's so easy for Oliver to subtly manipulate his surroundings and its people. Everyone, except for you. With you, the manipulation comes in seemingly natural events, nothing too forward. Because what he likes the most is you coming to him with whatever, problems, thoughts, feelings. Then he's done his job, and everything else that will build up a beautiful, beautiful relationship, will slip into place for him.
☓• Again, everything has to be perfect, and it will be. Maybe your first kiss with him is on your birthday, or out somewhere nice as a treat with some other rich friends. Or it's just you two having a movie marathon or pulling an all-nighter. Every time, he'll inch closer with little sweet, honest lines spoken in a calm, low tone, his eyes locked with yours and scarcely blinking. "Do you know how loveable you are?" "I think that your smile is something to live for." "I never want to be without you."
☓• Oliver will edge closer and closer, holding hands, brushing your hair back from your face when you're reading with a tender touch, meeting your eye and not letting go until you smile in bashful amusement and look away. He'll meet you outside all your classes and bring you your favourite drinks and study notes that he got from his work, so that you never fail an exam. Oliver's a lifesaver, one of your closest friends, someone who's always there for you to be whatever you need whenever you need. A great comforter, supporter, study buddy, moral support, you name it. He created and adapted himself to be boyfriend material especially for you, and so it happens, and he's won, like he knew he did the second he saw you. Now he can be as clingy and overly affectionate and outwardly obsessive as he wants, all day, all night, tirelessly. And don't think he won't.
☓• Straight-up, he's a starer. And I mean starer when you think you're alone in your room, starer when you were with a fling or someone you might have been interested in before... before Oliver worked his magic behind the scenes. Now it's a lot easier to, when you're in a relationship, because he can pass off his staring as something romantic, which it kind of is, without the dangerous obsessiveness lacing it. You'll look up from your phone or wake up in the night to see Oliver's eyes on you in wonder and something else you can't quite place, before you smile and ask him what it is. It's always the same answer with the same soft, adoring smirk that manages to make your cheeks flush with colour and smile back. It's not 'nothing.' It's always, just, "You."
☓• Once he's got things how he wanted them, if anything tries to ruin it, they will have literal hell to pay. He did not come this far for nothing. It's an agonising process of waiting and being patient so he wouldn't scare you off, getting gradually and naturally closer to this point. So whether it's Farleigh telling his tales or playing off his tricks, or someone else pointing out the unobvious obvious, good luck to them, because one of his special coincidences will fall right onto their heads.
☓• And if, by a twisted turn of events, you walk into one of Oliver's schemes, and see flecks of his true, darker self and violent, delusional side unearthed from his usually calm and easy way, he'll beg you with racking tears and heaving breaths and literal vomit to stay. He'll do anything, just as he has been doing anything, for you. What he's saying and doing is suddenly terrifying, and whether or not you want to accept him as freely is your choice, but if not, Oliver won't go away. He'll wait some more if you manage to escape his grasp this time. See you in a few years as an adult, maybe. When you're vulnerable in different ways and water's gone under the bridge. He'll slip right back into your life like he was always meant to be there, with his earnest, devoting praise and comfort and support, and that's Oliver Quick's life come back together yet again, with you lost at its centre. Trapped.
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rninies · 2 months
Text
✮ drunken confessions
౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, fem!reader, nicknames (princess and sweetheart), mentions of alcohol, drunk reader — wc: 791
notes. my choso fic is never gonna finish (start) because i keep writing for gojo wtf
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“toruu.” you slur, arms wrapped around his neck as satoru carry you on his back. your breath smells like alcohol due to you drinking two glasses of wine — you’re a lightweight, but that doesn’t stop you from having fun with your friends. satoru had been called prior to the party, your friends knowing that you would need his help getting back home.
“hm?” satoru hums. “what is it?”
“you have such a cute face,” you confess, your hands clumsily squishing his cheeks — satoru gasps as your cold hands touch his cheeks. “just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
satoru laughs. “really? you think i’m cute?”
“mhm,” you reply, eyes drooping. “you’re the cutest man i have ever met.” instead of replying, satoru stays silent, finally realizing that you had indirectly confessed your feelings for him. “i always look forward to meeting you…”
“i do too, princess.” satoru replies softly. when you don’t respond, he knows you have fallen asleep, finally giving in to your drowsiness. he sighs, smiling to himself — he knows he’ll be teasing you about this tomorrow, and if you don’t remember a single thing from tonight, he will make sure you remember.
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you wake up to an intense headache the next morning. groaning, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the pain though it doesn’t help. you don’t remember much about yesterday, only remembering that your friends had asked you to come hang out with them. you remember satoru coming to the club but after that, you don’t remember anything else.
scanning the room, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, only a glass of water next to your bedside table with a small sticky note right next to it. you grab the sticky note, reading ‘text me when u wake up plz’ in satoru’s handwriting. confused, you grab your phone and write a quick text to satoru.
in ten minutes, you hear a knock on your door, already expecting it to be satoru. “i’m letting myself in! you don’t mind, do you?” satoru asks, already inside your home without waiting for you to reply.
“you do that every day, you don’t have to ask,” you reply, walking down the stairs. satoru is wearing a white t-shirt with shorts (you can’t help but stare because how can someone wear something so casual but still look so good?). clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. “why did you ask me to text you?” you ask, showing satoru the note he wrote.
“oh,” he sighs. “do you remember anything from last night? anything at all?”
“um, i do remember going to the club with my friends. you were there too… other than that i don’t remember anything else.” you reply. “why?” satoru looks disappointed, and you wonder if you have said something wrong. he suddenly walks up to you before turning you around. “what are you doing?”
satoru suddenly squishes your cheeks from behind, repeating your words from last night. “you have such a cute face. just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
all the memories from last night flooded back into your head, remembering everything that happened between you and satoru. your eyes widen, cheeks turning red. “you-!” you turn your head, eyes meeting satoru.
satoru smiles. “do you remember now?”
“i can’t-” you look away, can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “i can’t believe you remember that.”
“i couldn’t sleep last night because you confessed to me and you expect me to forget about it?” satoru asks in disbelief, turning you around so he can see you better. “you’re asking the impossible here, sweetheart.”
“sweet-” you choked on your spit. “what?”
“what?” satoru asks innocently. “am i not allowed to call you that? i thought we were dating now?”
“we- huh?!” you exclaim. “we are?!”
“oh,” satoru takes your hand in his. “would you like to go out with me?” he looks at you, a big smile on his face. you open your mouth to respond but no words come out of your mouth. your mind goes blank when you see satoru’s smile, the only thing in your mind being how cute he is. “if you’re not going to say anything i’m going to assume it’s a yes and you do want to go out with me.”
“was me confessing yesterday not enough?” you blurt out, crossing your arms. “yes, i would like to go out with you, idiot.”
“that’s better.” satoru says, kissing your forehead. “well then!” he claps his hands. “go get ready. i want to take you somewhere today.”
“wha- now?” you ask. satoru nods, pushing you up the stairs. “but-”
“no buts! you agreed to be my girlfriend so you better be prepared for surprise dates!”
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taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul @iminlovewqr0w (send an ask to be added!) <3
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ozzgin · 3 months
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I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...
If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️
The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)
Yandere! Host x Reader
You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.
Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation
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Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.
He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.
One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.
You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.
Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.
You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.
You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.
Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.
The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?
"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?
Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.
"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.
"Everything."
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munsonhoneybaby · 1 year
Text
Too Much in Common | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: After Dustin brings Eddie home for a D&D campaign, you find yourself enjoying his company more frequently than expected.
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use (marijuana), smut, kinda automatic dubcon since they're both fried?, fingering, a lil praise, eddie’s just a lil obsessed
A/N: it hasn’t been explicitly stated yet but reader is adopted. hopefully i actually post a part two in a timely manner.
part two | finale | tmic masterlist
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The rumbling of Eddie’s van ceased in the Hendersons’ driveway as he turned the key back in the ignition. He was surprised, however, when the metal thrum of a guitar continued despite his radio now being off. Opening his door, he recognized “N.I.B.” by Black Sabbath and realized it was coming from inside, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion. 
He made his way to the front door, not bothering to knock beforehand since Dustin was expecting him and the kid’s mom wasn’t home. “Since when did you get a taste in music, Henderson?” He called over the music blaring from the sound system in the living room. A door around the corner slammed open much more forcefully than necessary and the aforementioned freshman barreled out of his bedroom. 
“It’s my sister!” He shouted back. “She said I could have you guys over while Mom is gone if I didn’t bitch while she was in charge, but APPARENTLY THAT MEANS MAKING ME GO DEAF!” 
Eddie could just barely make out your muttered “oh please” as you entered from the kitchen. You turned down the volume until the sound could be considered background noise. “If anyone here is gonna go deaf, it’s me from your constant shrieking.” Distressed jeans hugged the curve of your waist perfectly and the Poison t-shirt you had on looked soft from numerous wears. He tried not to stare, but he was sure he looked like a cartoon character– bugging, heart-shaped eyes and jaw hitting the floor. He almost missed it when you acknowledged him. “Munson. I heard you were still running Hellfire. Didn’t realize you’d be coming today.”
Oh fuck. You knew him. You knew him? How did you know him? Of course, you had gone to the same school, everybody in Hawkins did, but he would remember meeting a girl like you. Would you be upset with him for not knowing who you are? God, already embarrassing himself and he hasn’t even started talk–
“Relax,” You snorted. “I was a grade under you at Hawkins and I was homeschooled my senior year. We never talked, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me. I’m pretty sure everybody knows about you, though.” And this is when you tell him to get out of your house and stay away from your kid brother because he’s a drug-dealing, Satan-worshipping freak. “It’s nice you’re still running the D&D club, sounds like everything else there gets worse every year.” 
Some of the tension in his muscles slipped away and he realized he’d been subtly bracing himself. “Oh–” The doorbell rang and Dustin ran to get it, welcoming in Mike and Lucas who were already amicably bickering louder than necessary. Behind them trailed the two others they had ridden with, Jeff and Gareth if you remembered correctly. They seemed a little uncomfortable holding a session in a new house, but relaxed drastically when they set eyes on Eddie. “Uh– you guys can go ahead down to the basement with the freshmeat. I’ll be down in a sec, alright?” They nodded, waving politely to you before following the boys.
When they were gone, you and Eddie locked eyes again. “Seriously, I’m glad Dusty has someone watching out for him. He takes more shit than he deserves. Just try to be a good role model, alright? If I find out you give that kid Special K or some shit, it’s fucking over for you. Got it?”
“I would never let anything bad happen to those kids when they’re with me,” He spoke earnestly. “I’m gonna look out for them. If I’m ever gonna do anything right, it’s that.”
“I believe you, Munson.” You gave him a small smile and nodded towards the basement door. “You should probably get going. They can’t start the game without their dungeon master, right?”
An embarrassed flush fought its way up his neck to his cheeks as you turned towards the hall where your bedroom was. Before you could get more than a couple of steps though, he gently grasped your wrist. “Hey uh, by the way– I just wanted you to know that I don’t really– I don’t do any hard stuff anymore. Haven’t in a while. I hardly even sell it anymore and I stopped selling to first-timers.”
“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to–”
“No, don’t worry about it. I totally get it, I just wanted to let you know; for your peace of mind, I guess. You deserve to know who your baby brother’s hanging around with, I don’t want you to think I’m too bad an influence.”
“I don’t think you’re too bad, Munson. Just a healthy amount.” You gave his own wrist a small squeeze as you slipped your hand from his and finally went back to your own room. He gazed after you momentarily, even after your door had closed. If the guys were still present, they would definitely be giving him shit.
As if on cue, he heard Dustin’s muffled shout from the basement. “Eddie, hurry the hell up!”
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You were sitting on the front porch swing lighting a joint when his beat-up van pulled up two nights later. “Seek & Destroy” poured from his cracked-open windows until his door opened and he set foot on your driveway once again. “He’s not here, y’know,” You called to him.
“That’s alright, I actually just needed to–” Eddie was halfway between you and his van when he caught a whiff of a particularly familiar scent. A shocked, teasing grin slowly spread across his face. “Henderson, are you smoking marijuana right now?” 
In spite of yourself, you let out a laugh, coughing around a lungful of smoke in the process. “Say it a little louder, Munson, I don’t think the deafening Metallica got the neighbors’ attention.” 
Laughing, he dropped into the space next to you on the swing. “I didn’t peg you for the smoking type.”
“Oh, you mean from the three minutes we interacted?” You squinted playfully but held the joint out to him. “Just weed, I don’t fuck with anything else personally.”
He took you up on the offer, calloused fingertips brushing your skin as he took the joint from you. Examining it for a moment, he smirked as he took a hit. “Fuckin’ with it pretty hard, apparently,” He breathed out. “You roll almost as good as I do.”
“Good, then you can roll the next one.” It passes between you as you speak, though Eddie tries to keep his turns short out of courtesy. “Which brings us back to the topic of why you’re here mooching my shit. You said you needed to do something?”
“Right, I uh- I forgot my lucky dice here the other night. I figured I’d pick ‘em up on my way home from The Hideout.” 
“Oh yeah, you’re in a band or something, right?” 
“Since middle school,” He nodded, “Just me and a few guys from school, s’called Corroded Coffin.”
“Sounds metal.”
“We try to,” He chuckled.
“You like Black Sabbath and Metallica, you’d better,” You teased. You didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your every move as you smoked. The way your cheeks hollowed ever so slightly as you sucked in a hit, how your breath hitched and your eyes fell closed as you held it in. The corners of his lips curled up in amusement watching you blow Os while conversation lulled for a moment. Offering him one last hit first, you stub out the roach on the ground and stand from your seat. “C’mon in, you can go get your dice.”
“Thanks,” He hummed, grabbing the door as soon as it was open to hold it for you. 
“Have you eaten?” You ask, heading into the kitchen as he made his way toward the basement door. “I haven’t, I was gonna make a sandwich or something. You want one?”
“That’d be great, actually, thank you.” The dice weren’t hard to find seeing as he’d left them there on purpose. So maybe it was a little weird, definitely a little desperate, but he wanted to make sure he had another opportunity to see you– get his foot in the door, so to speak– and he really hadn’t expected all this. He’d hoped you’d be the one to answer the door and he’d get to make small talk for a few minutes, point out your shared taste in music maybe, but this? Catching you alone, sharing a joint, getting invited in for something to eat? This was going better than he could’ve possibly expected.
“Find ‘em?” You called down.
“Yup!” He jogged back up the stairs, waving the small velvet bag as he joined you in the kitchen. “All good.”
“What a relief. Can’t have the dungeon master thrown off his game, that would be a travesty.” You glanced up at him mischievously as you finished making the first sandwich, scooting the plate across the counter to him.
Eddie suppressed a smile, shaking his head as he picked up the sandwich. “You just love teasin’ me with that, don’t you?” He asked before he took what was probably an unattractively large bite.
“Depends on what kind of teasing we’re talking about, Munson.” You drawled casually in return, turning to continue making your own. Meanwhile, it was an effort just for him to keep his food in his mouth without choking on it. You were flirting with him.
Weren’t you? Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you’d meant it the other way around– that you’d only tease him in a joking way and that you’d never want to–
“Eddie, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears,” You snorted. “Stop thinking so hard, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” You took a big bite before grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Want one?” His answer was going to be yes, but you were grabbing him one before he had responded anyway. There was a brief and fairly comfortable silence as you cleaned up the rest of your small mess and he took a few long swigs of his water. “Wanna finish these in my room? We could smoke another joint maybe…just chill out, I don’t know…”
“Yeah, totally,” He agreed, maybe a little too eagerly.
“You’re rolling though,” You remind him over your shoulder as he begins to follow you to your bedroom.
The door creaked as you opened it, waiting for him to enter after you so you could close it. As you opened the window wide and lit a stick of incense, he took in his surroundings. Your room wasn’t like the average teenage girl’s– not that Eddie had seen very many of those– not pastel-colored, or frilly, or covered in heartthrob posters, though a few stuffed animals were perched tenderly on your bed. Actually, it was almost more like his, albeit much more organized. There were posters of horror movies and rock bands filling a decent amount of the empty space on your walls, the Dio flag pinned to the ceiling drawing his attention. “Oh, that is so sick!”
“I thought you might like some ‘a this stuff,” You laughed softly. Nodding towards the stereo in the corner, you continued, “You can put something on if you want.” He squatted down to look through your cassettes, hearing your voice move through the room as you got out your bud, tray, and paper. “Try to keep it understated though, alright? Nothing too hard or fast right now.”
“Really tryin’ to mellow out tonight, huh?” He began playfully, but looked back at you as his tone softened a little. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m alright,” You reassure. With the cassette in place, he made sure the volume was low before it began playing softly as you spoke. “I just get a little too pent up sometimes, you know? Everything’s just been kind of a lot lately, ‘s why I was already smoking when you showed up.”
“Hey, I can beat it if you want. I didn’t mean to show up outta the blue at a bad time and I definitely don’t have to stick around if you don’t want me here. I can totally get it if you want the time to yourself–”
“Please stay,” You quietly interrupted, then seemed a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t– I’d appreciate the company if you wanna stay a little while.”
Eddie gave you a comforting smile before taking a seat at your vanity to roll the joint, trying to lighten the mood. “Careful what you wish for, Henderson. I mean, you’ve got good music, good weed, made me dinner; I might be hangin’ around here more often with this kinda treatment. You’ve got me livin’ the life, babe.”
Laying down on your bed to watch him, your voice was more serious than he expected when you replied. “You’re welcome any time, you know. Mom likes when the house is busy and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Dustin practically worships the ground you walk on.” His rings glinted in the lamplight as he carefully sprinkled the bud onto the paper.
“Yeah? And what’s your review, hm?” You didn’t mean to stare at the way his lips wrapped around the joint or how his tongue traced the seam of the paper to seal it.
You hummed vaguely as he finished up, gently plucking it from between his fingers when he was done. Dramatically inspecting it much longer than he had yours, you finally say, “You roll clean joints.”
He shakes his head and laughs. Your lips close around the paper, feeling the seam still damp with his spit, and you jut your chin toward his lighter on the vanity. Grabbing it without a word, he leans forward to give you a light. Your gaze catches on his rings once more before lifting to his face again. A reflection of the flame makes the brown of his eyes warmer as they lock with yours, looking up from where you still lay on the bed on your stomach. You take a long pull as he draws the lighter away again and the spell is broken.
Sitting up to breathe the smoke in deeper, you tuck your knees under you. Eddie joins you on your bed, but not before he kicks off his shoes by the bedroom door. He sits cross-legged just in front of your pillows so you shuffle around to face him. “So, how was your concert?”
He snorted, “Concert might be a bit heavy. Gig is a little more accurate. Show maybe.”
You roll your eyes, but keep your tone light and pass the joint. “You’re a loser, you know that? You knew exactly what I was talking about, answer the question.”
“It was pretty good I guess,” He shrugged and took a long hit. “I think there may have been a whole seven people this time. And one of them was even sober!”
You smiled sympathetically, “You’re just in the wrong town. Don’t worry, I’ll come watch you play. I don’t know if that’d be a good atmosphere for the boys, but I could probably force Steve, Nancy, and Robin to come.
He twisted one of his rings around his finger for a moment. “That’s really nice, sweetheart.”
With each toke you both took, the joint burned slightly shorter until it was almost completely gone. “You want the last hit?” you asked. “I finished the last one. And you rolled this one anyway.”
“No, that’s alright. It’s your weed; I’m literally a drug dealer, I’ve got plenty at home.”
“Here,” You took one last long drag and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, but he understood when you sat up further on your knees and leaned toward him. A sense of giddy excitement overtook him for a second, nerves probably heightened from the weed, but he kept his composure. When your lips slotted over his, he took a deep breath in. His hand slid into your hair to keep your head steady as you sighed the smoke into his mouth. Your lips grazed over his afterward, very obviously lingering long after it was necessary. You giggled as you slumped down into a laying position, letting your head fall back into his lap.
“Seems like someone’s a lot more relaxed now,” He cooed playfully.
“Sorry, I can get off ‘f you–” He notices how your voice is slightly rougher after smoking so much.
“Hey, no–” His hands settle warmly over your shoulders, not holding you down so much as they were encouraging you to stay put. “It’s alright, baby. You can get comfy, you’re not bothering me.”
His hands soothed up and down your arms as you settled back in. “That feels really nice.” You hummed quietly and it drew out into another giggle, “Everything feels really nice.”
He laughs a little airily himself, “It does, doesn’t it?” Your skin felt so soft and warm beneath his fingertips, tracing imaginary shapes along the bare flesh of your arms. “‘M feelin’ pretty good, myself.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander to his pretty pink lips again. They’d felt so soft against yours and you wanted more– to really feel him this time. His thumb brushes your chin, dragging down in a way that had your mouth opening slightly. “What’re you thinkin’ so hard about, sweet thing?”
Blinking up at him with glassy eyes, you raised an arm to brush your fingers over his flushed cheek. “Eddie, c’n you kiss me? Please?”
“Yeah?” He moved his thumb a bit higher to tug your lower lip down a bit, face dipping down a bit closer to yours. “That what you want?” You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, making him chuckle quietly. 
He allowed his lips to graze teasingly over yours, just barely touching, before finally kissing you. His nose brushed your chin and you could feel the small smile adorning his face before your lower lip was sucked softly between his. Fingers winding into his mess of frizzy curls, you moaned quietly into his mouth and pulled him closer. After another moment though, he slowly drew back, lips separating from yours with a soft smack that made you unreasonably desperate for more.
An ache had sparked in his lower back while loading the amps into the van after their show earlier that evening, deepening as he proceeded to help load the rest of the equipment afterward. Now the deep curve he had molded it to in order to keep his mouth on yours had the pain radiating up his entire back. “As much as I’m enjoying this– and believe me, babe, I’m seriously enjoying it– my back is kinda killin’ me and hunching over you like this…” 95% of his brain was screaming at him to shut the fuck up, to ignore it and just keep kissing you breathless anyway, but the other 5% was crying out to lay down and he had to listen.
“Oh, sorry,” There was a slight pant in your voice as you released your grasp on his hair. He sat up slowly as if a movement too fast would shatter the calm in the air. You sat up yourself, watching as he eased himself back onto your pillows. “S’that better?”
“Way better,” He confirmed. “We can uh- we could keep kissing if you want.”
Openly cringing at how awkward that sounded, he opened his mouth to say something else before you interrupted him with a still-sluggish giggle. “I’d like that, Eddie.”  
“Okay,” He nodded rapidly. 
Leaning forward onto your hands and knees, you crawled into his lap. His hands instantly settled on your thighs, running up and down the material of your pajama pants. His eyes flickered wildly over your body a few times before gazing up at you in awe. You didn’t waste any time in kissing him again, which was much easier now that he wasn’t upside down. As you moaned into his mouth, his hands molded to your hips, squeezing and pulling you as tight to him as he could get you. His tongue slipped between your lips, making them open further as your hands found his hair once again. 
He didn’t mean to start moving, slowly grinding into you in an attempt to relieve the tightness in his jeans that definitely wasn’t a problem before he came over— but then you were rocking down on him yourself, clothed cunt rubbing against him in a desperate search for friction. Hips rutting up into yours, he braced a palm against your lower back. You could feel his hardness pressing into you through the layers of clothing between you. Pulling back for air, you panted into his mouth, still subtly grinding against him. “Fuck,” He grunted quietly. The soft whimper of his name that you gave him in return made his head fall back against the wall with a thud. “Got me so fuckin’ hard, sweet thing. Please, don’t stop.”
“Don’t wanna stop,” You whined back quietly. “Feels so good.” 
“Good,” He cooed. “Don’t worry, ‘m gonna keep makin’ you feel good.” Hot, open-mouthed kisses moved down your neck and you let out a moan. His fingers wormed their way past the hem of your shirt, tracing the cup of your bra. “This okay?” He mumbled against your skin. Nodding, you cupped his hand and guided it higher until he pushed your bra out of the way. The pad of his thumb brushed firmly over your nipple, making your hips jerk against his. “Mmm, so sensitive. Is that jus’ the weed or are you always like this?”
“Both,” You breathed out. “‘N you’re good at all this.”
“Aw you don’t have to butter me up, baby,” He grinned. “I’m gonna make you cum either way.” Free hand dipping past the waistband of your pajama pants, Eddie continued playfully, “But, go on. Keep tellin’ me how much I turn you on.”
“Eddie,” You pleaded, “C’mon.” 
Fingers stroking the damp fabric of your underwear, he asked, “This okay? Really want me to touch you?” Your desperate nods made his lips curl, pressing more firmly against you and drawing out a moan that you tried to stifle. “No, no, no, you gotta tell me how it feels, sweet thing. We’re all alone, you can make those pretty noises, it’s okay.”
Your head slumped into the crook of his neck, mouthing lazily at his skin. Nudging your underwear to the side, he sank his middle finger knuckle-deep into you. Grasping tightly at the worn material of his t-shirt, your breath hitched. “Mmm, fuck– yes, Eddie, thank you.”
“Look at you, usin’ your manners ‘n everything. Of course, you would. Such a good girl.” Your moans only grew louder, making his hips jerk in search of friction. “So warm and wet, bet you’d feel so good around my cock.” Lifting your head to kiss him again, your hand found the shape of his length in his jeans. He rolled his thumb over your clit in circles as his hips rocked against your palm. Mouths open against each other’s, you exchanged panting breaths and muffled moans. Confined by your pants, his hand didn’t have much room for movement, leaving your hips stuttering frustratedly. “Lemme get these off’a you, babe. Can make you feel so much better than this.”
Suddenly, his hand was curled under your thigh and you let out a small squeal as you were flipped onto your back beneath him. Your pants and underwear were yanked down your legs feverishly, Eddie parting them to slip two fingers into you this time. “Shit, Eds!”
“Fuck, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Immediately, he tried to withdraw his hand, but you gripped his wrist to stop him. 
“Don’t stop, Eddie. Please, don’t stop,” You rushed.
“Alright, sweetheart, ‘m right here. Don’t worry.” Your hands laced into his hair for stability as his fingers crooked into a spot that almost made your eyes cross. Already dripping onto your bedspread, you pulled him even closer to you. Smirk spreading across his face, he said, “Oh yeah. That’s the spot, huh, baby?”
“Fuck, Eddie, you’re gonna make me come,” You whined.
“Good, want you to soak my fingers.” His hips rocked forward, clothed cock grinding into the back of your thigh. “Wanna feel you come for me.” The way his thumb rubbed so firmly against your clit had heat shooting all the way to your toes. Desperately tugging him down for another kiss, your thighs trembled as they squeezed closed around his hand. “There it is,” He murmured lowly against your lips. “Mmm, you’d feel so fuckin’ good coming around my cock, sweet thing.” The deep cadence of his voice had you shaking.
Grasping at the back of his shirt, you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He held you in silence for a long moment until your head eventually dropped back against the bed. A smile slowly grew on your face as you looked up at him and you let out a small giggle, making him grin down at you. He laughed softly too as he pressed his forehead against yours. 
Eyes darting shortly to the alarm clock on your nightstand, you did a double-take when you noticed how late it was. “Son of a bitch, my mom’s gonna be home any minute!” You grabbed your discarded underwear and pajama pants from the foot of the bed as soon as Eddie had peeled himself off of you. “Uh– fuck, I’m really sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to invite you in just for this, I just didn’t realize how late it got. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, but–”
“Are you kidding?” He was already leaning against the wall by your door, slipping on his beat-up air forces. “I had a blast, babe. We should do this again sometime,” He winked teasingly.
You rolled your eyes half-heartedly, feeling your body warm. When the two of you reached the front door, you rubbed your arm and met his eyes only a bit awkwardly. “I’m sorry again about not…returning the favor.”
He chuckled, giving you a small smirk. “Don’t worry about me, sweet thing. After tonight, I’ll have no trouble taking care of it myself.” Taking a step closer to you, he leaned down for a kiss that was much slower and softer than the last few you’d shared. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
“Night, Eddie. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.”
“Anytime.”
You waited at the door until he’d gotten in his van and driven away before finally heading back to your room. As soon as you closed your bedroom door and flopped down on your bed, you heard your mom’s car pull into the driveway. Meanwhile, Eddie drove home, foot a little heavy on the gas pedal as he itched to get back to his own room.
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He didn’t see you again for two weeks. He knew the Hendersons’ phone number, but there was no way he could ask for you if Dustin or your mom picked up. So he waited, very impatiently mind you, and hoped he hadn’t ruined things by going so far with you so fast. 
When he did finally see you, it was at Hawkins High School. You’d come to pick Dustin up from that week’s Hellfire club meeting. You knocked on the door before entering, knowing that– despite the session being scheduled to end ten minutes ago– they often ran over their allotted time. Sure enough, you heard Eddie’s booming voice as you cracked open the door and slipped inside.
“And as the chimera flew closer–” When he noticed you he immediately straightened from his position looming over the table, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back. He didn’t want to scare you off with all this yet. “Okay gentlemen, that’s all for today.” The collective groan they let out had you feeling a bit guilty, they’d obviously been enjoying themselves, and now you were being the annoying big sister; you should’ve just waited in the car. But Eddie was quick to speak again. “Oh, cut the moaning. We’re almost fifteen minutes over and you all need more time to prepare for battle anyway. Amateurs.”
As the others all packed up their things, he approached you and you greeted him with a smile. “Sorry for interrupting, seemed pretty intense, I hope it wasn’t too important.”
“No, no, it’s good you came in. We would’ve been all caught up until someone else came in to stop us in a much less forgiving manner.” You both laughed and it went quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat again. “So uh, I’ve been hoping I’d see you around.”
“Yeah, me too… Smoking alone isn’t as fun anymore.”
His lips quirked up into a smirk and he nodded playfully. “Yeah, ‘ve been thinking the same. You should start buying from me, you know. I’ll give you a discount.”
“Oh, so I have to pay you to smoke with you again? You know, we used my shit last time,” You teased.
“You’ll never pay for anything you smoke when you’re with me, sweetheart. I’m a gentleman after all. Here, hang on.” He dashed back to the table, hunching over to write something down before tearing off the small scrap of paper and coming back to you. “Now you can get a hold ‘a me, come smoke all my weed anytime.”
“Oh, I’ll be taking you up on that.”
Your comfortable conversation was interrupted when Dustin shouted your name. “What’re you doing? Let’s go!”
“I’ll see you around, Munson.”
“Sure thing, Henderson.” 
As you drove Dustin home, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea to get involved with Eddie. He was one of Dustin’s best friends now, a mentor for him, one of the only male role models he’s had aside from Steve since he lost his father. The last thing you wanted was to make Dustin feel like you were taking that away from him. God forbid something should happen between you and Eddie and he doesn’t feel comfortable coming around anymore. You couldn’t do that to him. 
Still, you found yourself hunkered over the phone in the living room that night. You tried to hold out, you really did, but you only managed to hold yourself back until almost midnight after your family had gone to bed. Coiling the cord around your finger, you waited impatiently as the phone rang three times.
When he finally picked up, you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Hi, sweet thing. Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”
“Well, I figured I was running low on bud anyway,” You drawled quietly. 
“You’re awful quiet,” He teased. “Don’t want Mommy to catch you up on the phone so late?”
“Fuck off,” You scoffed playfully. “If you’re having so much trouble hearing me over the phone, why don’t you come over?”
“Oh, so she minds a phone call, but it’s okay if we have a sleepover?” He snorted. 
“No, but if you’re quiet you can sneak in and back out before she wakes up to get ready for work. I’ve got twenty bucks calling your name,” You cooed enticingly.
“Seriously?”
"Come on, Munson, you've never climbed through a girl's window before? I'm disappointed."
He simply replied, "I'll be there in fifteen, make sure it's unlocked."
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part two | finale | tmic masterlist
<3
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celandeline · 3 months
Text
Not Your Boyfriend, Baby
Farleigh X Reader, SMUT - tw for cheating, reader both cheats and is cheated on
part two
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Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules. 
Always stand to his right, so that he can hand you whatever he’s holding without having to think about it. Let him pull you into his lap whenever he wants, even if you’d really rather just sit next to him - always sit next to him. Laugh at the jokes he makes, even if they aren’t funny. Help him with his coursework when he asks, pretend that you need help with things that you know he’s good at so he doesn’t feel stupid. Pretend that he can make you cum. Pretend you don’t know he’s cheating on you.
Being Felix’s girlfriend comes with a set of rules - but the perks are worth it. 
The necklace he got you for your birthday costs more than your first car, and if you ever sell it, will easily cover rent for at least a year. Designer clothes have a habit of appearing in your dorm room unannounced, always in your size - just because Felix likes when you look good next to him. No clubs are too exclusive to get into, there’s always a booth in the back of the pub reserved for you, people bend over backwards just for the chance of being in Felix’s vicinity - so naturally they’ll do anything for you. 
You’re using him as much as he’s using you - it’s mutually beneficial. You get to live within his innermost circle, he gets to have someone to bring home to his parents so they don’t start looking into arranged marriages after graduation. You have no intentions of actually marrying him, god no - you’ve heard him talk about how many kids he wants, there’s no way in hell you’re pushing out six - but you’ll take what you can get. Felix is a comfortable rung on the social ladder you’re trying to climb. 
“Right, love?” 
Felix’s voice drags you out of your thoughts and back into reality - the warm lighting of the pub casts everyone around your table in a warm golden glow. You’re pressed against Felix’s right side - always his right side - his arm perched on the back of the booth around your shoulders, casually possessive. It’s a little funny how possessive he is, considering how often he cheats on you. On his other side, Annabel nurses a pint, her overlined eyes locked on Felix, utterly enraptured. 
Across the table, India looks at him with the same hunger, even though her head rests on Farleigh’s shoulder. Farleigh looks how you feel - utterly bored, his eyes wandering the room as he idly smokes a cigarette. He’s always been prettier than Felix. More interesting too. If you weren’t trying to climb the social ladder high enough to marry rich and not have to work a day in your life, he’d be who you’re pressed against instead of Felix. There’s something about him that’s always given you the sense that he sees right through you, but it’s exciting. You know he knows why you’re here next to Felix, with a diamond he bought you around your neck. But Felix has no idea - he thinks you’re in love with him. 
It’s laughable, how in his own head he is. 
Still, you feed into the delusion, that practiced sugary-sweet smile playing at your lips as you look up at him. “Mhm.” You hum, picking up your pint and sipping at it. 
Felix grins wide, and turns back to Annabel. “See?”
Annabel rolls her eyes, leaning around Felix to pin a look at you. “You weren’t even paying attention.”
The animosity that every other girl within a fifty mile radius directs at you is the one drawback of being Felix’s main piece. Your smile turns a little sharper. “Yeah.” You admit easily, setting your pint back down. “But I know Felix enough to know that he was probably right.”
Across the table, Farleigh snorts. 
Your eyes slide over to him, and he meets your glance. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head, a dry smile playing at his lips - a silent, really?
You tilt your head in the same direction, mocking - yes, really.
Felix turns back to Annabel. “I’m always right, Anna - best get used to it.”
She rolls her eyes again, but this time it’s playful - flirty, even. You can already see how the rest of tonight is going to play out - Felix will make some excuse about drinking too much or not feeling well or whatever else his idiotic brain can come up with, and disappear back to his dorm room to fuck her. Tomorrow, of course, you’ll act like you’re none the wiser. In two weeks time, when the guilt starts to get at him, a new pair of heels or a Dior skirt will find its way into your closet. 
Simply the way of things. 
Pulling away from Felix’s hold, you make to get up. He glances at you, concerned, but you only smile, and kiss him on the cheek so that you can slide out of the booth. “Gotta use the loo.”
You brush your hands down your skirt as you stand up, and start towards the back of the pub, where the bathrooms are, tossing a look over your shoulder back at the table. You catch Farleigh’s eye, and hold it for a moment. His lips curl upward around his cigarette. With Felix likely going home with Annabel, your schedule for the night just opened up…
Maybe tonight’s the night you do something - someone - just for yourself. Set your plans for the future aside for once, and just have fun. After all, you’re confident Felix will be none the wiser - you know exactly what not to do after watching him fumble around with any and every other girl that’s caught his eye. 
You disappear into the bathroom, Farleigh’s gaze still on you. 
The noise from the pub is quieter here, just a dull hum seeping in through the walls. You lock the door behind you, and inspect yourself in the mirror. You smudge the dark eyeshadow around your eyes a little more, and fluff up your hair so that it doesn’t sit so lifelessly against your head. Your sex appeal back in place, you splash some water on your hands and pat them against your skirt before you leave, stepping back out into the pub. 
As expected, Farleigh is waiting for you, leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, finishing off his cigarette. A quick glance back at the table lets you know that you were right - Annabel and Felix are gone. India’s moved onto Jack now, laughing a little too loud at something he says. 
“Felix said he wasn’t feeling well, all of a sudden.” Farleigh drawls, bringing your attention back to him. “Annabel’s walking him home.” There’s a touch of humor in his voice that you appreciate - he knows just as well as you do what they’re off to do.
“Shame.” You say, not bothering to try and sound actually sad at all. It wouldn’t fool Farleigh anyway. “Got tired of India?” You snatch the last of his cigarette from his fingers, finishing it off in one drag and dropping the butt to the floor, stamping it out with my boot. 
Farleigh watches you, his eyes half-lidded. “Is there such a thing as not being tired of India?”
“She’s not all bad.” You say. 
He tilts his head, that wry smile coming back to his face. “She’s not trying to fuck you.”
You can’t help but grin at that. “Touche.” You wouldn’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of India’s flirting - but if Farleigh’s boredom is anything to judge by, she must not be very good at it. 
Silence falls between us, and you let yourself look at him, eyes tracing down the lines of his neck until you reach the hollow at the base, and then back up to his lips.
“So.” Farleigh says. 
You meet his eyes again. “So.”
He grins, foxlike and charming. “You wanna get out of here?”
The walk back to campus is short, but it feels longer with how much you talk about with Farleigh - school and America and family and money and Felix and a million other, less important, things. It’s the most intellectually stimulating conversation you’ve had in a long time, and the most you’ve genuinely laughed in a while too. It’s everything you’ve been missing with Felix - and it makes the war between your want for fortune and fame in the future and your want for genuine connection rage all the more. 
It comes to an end all too quickly for your liking, as you reach the steps to your dorm. 
You slow to a stop, and Farleigh stops as well, looking down at you, hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Does it ever bother you?” He asks.
“What?” You reply. 
“That he cheats on you.” Farleigh clarifies. 
It’s a complicated question to answer, so instead you turn it around on him instead. “Does it ever bother you that he’s fucked India?”
Farleigh rolls his eyes. “That’s-”
“He does it to literally everyone.” You press on. “I stopped caring a while ago.”
Something contemplative washes over his face, and he just looks at you for a moment, eyes searching yours for something. His next question is quieter. “Who would you pick, if you weren’t stuck with him?”
Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “I’m not stuck with him.”
Farleigh looks at you, obviously amused. “I can see you trying not to roll your eyes every time he opens his mouth.”
You shrug. “The pros outweigh the cons.”
“So cynical.” He taunts, stepping closer. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
“I think it’s fairly obvious who I would pick if I wasn’t with Felix.” You say, letting him back you up the steps until your back is against the door. You look up at him, and meet his eyes. 
He grins. “Yeah, but I want you to say it.”
“It’s you.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. “Like it would be anyone else-”
He cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, a moan leaving him as you deepen the kiss without waiting, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and vodka and it’s made all the more delicious by the little noises that keep working up his throat, elicited when you grab him by the belt and pull him closer so that you’re chest to chest. He groans when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip and pull away, tugging him with you by the mouth. When you release him, he still follows after you anyway, chasing you for more. 
Fingers still dancing on his belt, you smile. “Come up to my dorm with me?”
“Yes, fuck, please.” He already sounds debauched, and it sends a spike of heat straight down to your core. Felix would never deign himself to beg. 
You push open the door to the dorm building, and start up the stairs, Farleigh trailing only a half step behind you. You fumble with your keys once you reach the door to your room, and Farleigh latches onto the back of your neck, trailing kisses across the sensitive skin that send a shiver up your spine.
Once you get the door open, you drag him inside and kick it back shut, locking it behind you. 
Farleigh’s back on you in an instant, mouthing under your jaw. You wind a hand into his curls, pulling his head back from your neck. “Don’t leave any marks or Felix-”
He rolls his eyes, and cuts you off. “Duh.”
Without any more preamble he dives back into your neck, kissing along the length of it until he makes his way back up to your lips. You meet him in a kiss greedily, pushing off the door behind you and walking him back towards your bed. He hits the bedframe and breaks the kiss to sit on the edge. With a grin, you’re climbing into his lap and gently pushing him down until his backs flat against the mattress. 
He’s so pretty like this - curls splayed out across your duvet cover, hands gripping onto your hips like you’ll float away if he lets go. You run a hand under his shirt, rucking it up so that you can see the way his stomach flexes when you touch him. Slowly, you dip your head down to lick a trail up his abdomen, never breaking eye contact. 
He tips his head back with a shaky groan. “Oh, fuck.”
You grin, shifting forward so that you can nose under his jaw, lips ghosting across the shell of his ear. “What about you? Will India get mad if I-”
“Don’t fucking care, I want you to do it anyway.” He says, a little breathless. He’s so responsive - every little groan and whine shoots heat straight to your core. If sex with Felix was like this, maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend to be in love with him. 
You sink your teeth into his neck just below his ear and he keens, his hips knocking up into yours. His fingers dig into your hips, bunching the fabric of your skirt into his fists like he’s holding on for dear life. You take the opportunity to start the slow roll of your hips as you work a chain of hickeys across his neck, scattering them artfully around his collarbone. 
Deft fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up your spine until you get the message and pull it off yourself, flinging it somewhere in your room. Farleigh wiggles out of his own shirt underneath you, pushing the offending garment off the edge of the bed. Freed of your shirt, you reach behind you to unclasp your bra as well, tossing it in the same direction. 
Farleigh’s eyes fall to your tits immediately, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate. “I see why Felix keeps you around-”
“Shut the fuck up.” You say with a smile. Even when you have him in your bed, he’s the same old Farleigh. It’s a breath of fresh air after having to pretend you like when Felix calls himself ‘daddy’. 
Your skirt is next, and then the tights you’d had on underneath it as Farleigh works on his trousers, kicking them off the end of the bed. Only your underwear left, you resume grinding against him, watching as his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he uses his grip on your hips to work you over him harder. 
“How do you want me?” You ask, leaning down to press more kisses along the length of his neck. 
You expect him to respond - to tell you to turn over on all fours or ride him reverse cowgirl - but he only sighs in the back of his throat. “Whatever you like, baby.” 
You press your lips to his in another greedy kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing up the moans that slip past his lips. He’s not making it easy to think about going back to Felix after this. Felix, who calls himself ‘daddy’ and manhandles you around however he likes and hasn’t made you cum a single time. You can feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your underwear from how malleable Farleigh is underneath you - how he looks at you like he’d gladly do anything you ask him to. 
You slip your fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and shuck them down his legs. Your own underwear are next, and then you’re grinding on him again, spreading your wetness up and down his length. 
Farleigh’s grip tightens, and he tips his head back again. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he moans. “Mm.” He picks his head back up enough so that he can look at you. “I was going to ask if you wanted me to go down on you but - mm - I don’t think you need it- oh fuck!”
Rising up on your knees, you line him up and slide down him in one drop of your hips, lodging him inside of you. He’s longer than Felix is, but skinnier too so the stretch doesn’t sting as much. God, it’s like he was made for you, with how easily he reaches right where you need him to without even trying. You start to bounce, planting your hands on his chest for leverage and tossing your head back, losing yourself in the feeling. 
Farleigh whines, a high pitched breathy thing that sounds like it’s been forced out of him as you start to move. Gently, you pry his hands away from your hips and pin them down over his head, just because he lets you do it. It’s a rush - that he’ll let you do whatever you want and take it happily - and it goes to your head. He strains against your grip but you don’t let up, working yourself up and down his cock just to watch his eyes roll up into his head. 
“What- ahh, what are you doing?” Farleigh chokes out, straining against your grip again. 
“Whatever I want.” You croon, whispering against his lips. 
He snags you in a kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth hungrily as he plants his feet on the mattress, thrusting so that his hips meet yours on every downstroke. A sharp gasp forces its way out of your throat as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten, and you can’t help but smile at him. It’s almost a novelty, the way he works with you instead of against you like Felix often does. 
He grins back up at you, and tilts his chin upward to kiss you again. Breathy, he says, “Felix is an idiot.”
You choke on a moan as a particularly hard thrust jolts through you. “Why’s that?”
“He doesn’t know what he has.” Farleigh says. “I’ve fucked India and - fuck - Annabel and they’ve got nothing on you.”
You laugh and moan at the same time. “You don’t have to - mm - be nice just so I’ll let you cum in me.”
“I can be nice.” He breathes. 
You ghost your lips over his neck. “You’re never nice.”
“I can be nice.” He insists, turning his head so that you can litter kisses along the length of his neck. You trail upwards until you reach the lobe of his ear, biting gently at the skin. “To you.”
“Careful.” You say. “Better stop now or I might think you’re in love with me or something-”
Farleigh tenses up beneath you, as a long groan escapes from his lips as he throws his head back. He thrusts three more times before he stills, slumping back down to the mattress, panting hard. His eyes flutter open, blown wide as he looks up at you. 
You can feel a smirk playing on your lips. “Did you just cum?”
He has the decency to look a little ashamed. “Maybe.”
You laugh, and kiss him. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”
“I’m good.” He insists, working his wrists free of your hold. “I can still- here, just-”
He pulls you to his chest and rolls on the mattress so that you’re underneath him now, and resumes fucking into you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. The change in position makes the feeling all the more potent, and a moan slips out from your lips. 
Winding your arms around his shoulders, you rake your nails up his back, and feel him shiver against you. “Farleigh…”
“Don’t fucking do that.” He laughs. “I’ll cum again.”
You toss your head back against the pillow as he speeds up his thrusts, obviously trying to get you to cum before he’s too spent to keep going. You let your eyes flutter shut and enjoy the feeling of him against you, the tickle of his curls against your neck, the breathy moans that slip from his lips into your ear, the feeling of his teeth against your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin-
“Farleigh-” You start, only to cut yourself off as the coil finally snaps and pleasure shoots through you. “Oh fuck-”
He groans, and shoves his face deeper into your neck as his thrusts slow to a stop. He slumps again, flopping on top of you with a long sigh.
When you come back to your senses, you tug on his hair until he grumbles. “You are such a dick.” You say. “I said no marks.”
“Sorry.” He mumbles into your skin. 
“No you’re fucking not.” You retort. 
He lifts his head out of your neck, that foxlike grin on his face again. “No I’m not.”
“What am I supposed to do now?” You ask. 
He pulls out, and flops back down on the bed next to you, nosing back into the crook of your neck as he slings an arm over your chest. “Makeup. Wear your hair down.” He shrugs. “It’s Felix - he’ll probably think he did it.”
You rest your chin on the top of his head, the aftershocks of pleasure running through you. “‘M never having sex with you again.”
Farleigh snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
You smile into his hair, because he’s right. Of course he’s right. There’s no way in hell this isn’t going to become a regular occurrence. 
811 notes · View notes
cutielando · 9 days
Text
dating headcannon ~ lando norris
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Synopsis: what i imagine dating Lando would be like
Other works: my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
you would meet at an after party for one of the Grand Prix
he would immediately take an interest in you as soon as he would see you in the busy club
you would exchange numbers and stay in contact afterwards 
took you on 4 dates before officially asking you to be his girlfriend
would be the sweetest boyfriend ever
you would keep your relationship a secret for a few months to make sure that what you had was the real deal
he was skeptical to introduce you to his fans because of what happened with his ex-girlfriend
but they all ended up loving you to death
they could see how happy you made Lando and how much you loved each other
you often interacted with them on social media, posting more Lando content for them to see and sometimes exposing him
he would spoil you rotten
he had the money to do it, so he bought you every single thing that you would look at for more than 5 seconds
jewelry, shoes, clothes, purses, books, perfumes
it didn’t matter what it was, he would buy it for you
buys you flowers with every occasion 
brings you with him to every Grand Prix that you’re able to attend
loves showing you off to the entire paddock, making sure that everyone knew how beautiful and loved his girlfriend was
Zak would oftentimes have to physically separate you two whenever he would have a meeting and wouldn’t want to separate from you to attend it
you and Jon would 100% be besties, staying in touch on a regular basis
his family loved you, happy to see that someone loved their son as much as they did
you would talk with his sisters and mother on a daily basis, more than he does. Would definitely have a group chat just the 4 of you
he would sometimes get jealous because you would pay more attention to his family, but in reality he was just grateful that you got along with them so well
you loved watching him race, but you also worried like crazy every time he would get into the car
being there with him when he crashed in Las Vegas had been the scariest experience you’d ever had
he reassured you that he would always find his way back to you, no matter what
his lando.jpg account would turn into a fan account dedicated to you
he would always take pictures of you, no matter where you were or what you were doing
lazy days, lazy days, lazy days
you two enjoyed every little moment that you had together, seeing as you didn’t get too much time to relax during race weekends 
would spend the entire day cuddled in bed, watching some crappy movies or just talking about anything and everything for hours on end
you would move with him to Monaco almost after one year of being together, not wanting to be apart or do long-distance anymore
goofy, silly mood all the time in the apartment
he would make it his mission to make you laugh constantly, your laugh being his favorite sound in the whole world
Max would love you, you got along like brother and sister 
you would be a very known face on his Twitch streams and featured in Quadrant videos 
his friends accepted you into the group like you were one of them from the very beginning
the grid would call him a “simp” because he wouldn’t be able to stop talking about you
you and Oscar would be besties, often making fun of him or teaming up to pull a prank on him
the McLaren team loving you like you were part of their team, which essentially you were
they would sometimes ask you to film videos with Lando for content, which you would always happily film because you loved the team and you also loved Lando
goes wild in bed
he spends hours upon hours worshiping every part of your body
very passionate lover, focused on your pleasure and your pleasure alone
you would keep him grounded, being his solace during the hard times
after a bad race, he didn’t need to say anything for you to know that he just needed to be held and coddled
you two loved each other very much, fitting together like two missing pieces from a puzzle
soulmates, all the way
married, children, a house, you would go all the way
happily ever after
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Text
It became known that MC was a force to be reconned with, when the prince of the Devildom sought out and valued their input. Diavolo doesn't bat an eye at pausing a meeting to call on MC, over the phone or in person, and he will take their words into careful consideration when making any sort of decision.
"MC, what do you think of this painting?"
"It's very bright. Might suit the conservatory hall."
It's Lucifer who arches a brow at it at first, in the early days. Prince of the Devildom, taking advice from a lowly human? That would certainly put the house of lords on edge.
Diavolo didn't stop though, and the things he asked MC's opinion on grew less and less minial.
"This is a complex matter...Lucifer, would you have Mammon bring MC here after class? I would love to hear their take on this."
"Young Master, this is a rather more serious matter than where to hang a new painting." Barbatos remarked. True, it's not the biggest issue sitting on Diavolo's desk right now, but it's no small thing either. Deciding where to invest RAD's extra funding isn't something one would think to involve the new exchange student in.
"Precisely why I would like their opinion, Barbatos!" Diavolo beamed adamantly, he would not think on it again and Mammon brought MC over, their pact still fresh.
Diavolo did not comment on that fresh mark, merely slid the necessary information across his desk, inviting MC to read it as he explained the finer points.
Lucifer and Barbatos watched on sceptically. What could this magic-less human possibly contribute to the conversation other than what they already know?
The eldest brother is rather surprised that MC takes it so seriously, granting Diavolo their undivided attention and asking follow up questions to make sure they fully understand what he's asking.
"Maybe send out a poll to the different clubs, see if they have any common needs? If I had to guess I'd suggest the common areas regularly used for club events, someone hosted a party in the cafeteria last week, can't be ideal."
Lucifer shared a look with Barbatos as the human spoke. How was that actually a good idea?
"And if they don't have any common issues?" Barbatos prompted.
MC shrugged. "Transport lines in and out of the Academy? One of my professors was complaining about it this morning."
Diavolo's face lit up. "Both excellent suggestions, MC! Thank you for your input, you're as observant as always."
The first demon not to underestimate them, wasn't actually Mammon, or any of his brothers, but the demon prince.
The Prince, who saw how observant, how kind they could be and invited them to be in the Devildom and see it not just as a temporary Passover, but as a home.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
Hi there! I love all your work and I saw wife!reader and alastor getting married when they were alive and wanted to know how they met or who fell in love first.
You don't have to do this though, have a lovely day! ❤️
I really love this...I won't do how they met because I want people to be able to decide that for themselves but..
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Reader goes on a date, Implied Murder, Alastor being jealous, Suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
You are most likely the one who falls first, not that anybody could blame you, Alastor is F I N E
He's a well sought after man with his good looks, charming conversation skills and various other talents
So it makes sense that when you meet him and get to know him a little more, you're smitten with the radio host
But you're well aware that the chances of becoming an item with Alastor are slim to none
He's never once showed an interest in being in a relationship and visibly tenses when someone flirts with him
So you resolve yourself to try and get over this little crush and keep your friendship with him intact
If you were being honest with yourself, then it's more than just a crush, you're head over heels in love with him
You two do become fast friends though, something always drawing the two of you close, a sort of magnetic pull
You're practically the best of friends, always together, inside jokes, judging people together
A dozen almost kisses, romantically charged interactions, almost sexually charged drunken escapades
You even bring him food when he's at work so that he doesn't forget to eat and take care of himself
He sets aside time to take you to different restaurants, clubs, parks, anywhere that might be enjoyable
People are quick to assume you two are a couple, but you're always quicker to correct them
It's the truth but it sort of bothers him
He can't deny that you're great company, or that you're beautiful, or that he hates it when you're not smiling
Or that he has a great...fondness for you and your little quirks/talents
He's very attached to you to say the least, you're an important person in his life
That's what he tells people anyways
He doesn't even realize that he's in love with you until you're suddenly gushing about meeting someone new
You look so hopeful, so excited that some guy asked you out but the idea of you on a date makes his skin crawl
But you're only so hopeful and excited because you think maybe this guy will help you get over your feelings for Alastor?
He's a very sweet man, cute, funny, a little touchy-feely but nothing you can't handle
You don't notice the way Alastor's smile twitches ever so slightly whenever you bring up your date
Or his sour tone and the way he tries to discourage you from going
"Y/N, do you even like him? Can you picture yourself having a future with him?"
"That's why I'm going on a date with him, besides... he's very sweet to me!"
Another eye twitch and a sound that's almost like a snarl, Alastor is sweet to you, this guy isn't special
Okay, you notice but you assume he's just being protective
Alastor doesn't even realize his thunderous expression until your soft hand grips his chin, forcing him to lock eyes with you
"Alastor, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself, you don't need to worry about me.."
Even though you want him to worry about you, you want him to beg you not to go, to tell you that he-
But he won't
His attitude only gets worse once he actually sees the guy who asked you out on a date
Oh no he's hot
If Alastor knew the word, then he would surely call him a himbo but he doesn't know that word, so he just calls him "Next."
Watching you interact with him was something that was truly sickening, seeing someone so clearly enamored with you
And you're enjoying the attention, Alastor gives you attention, he compliments you and takes you to fun places
Just never with obvious romantic intentions before...
Your date kisses your hand and Alastor wants to scrub it clean for you, Alastor can kiss you-
Kissing you wouldn't be so bad...or possibly more...
What was all that sickeningly sweet stuff you used to talk about couples doing together? Dates, cuddling, sex? He could do that, with you that is-
It's a little hot under his collar all of a sudden
It's not like Alastor hasn't already been practically taking you out on dates, courting you
Everyone already thinks you two are a couple anyways
Fuck he's in love with you and he's probably already missed his chance
He wrestles with himself over the sudden revelation all the days leading up to your date
It's not until you come out looking like the most heavenly creature on earth that Alastor realizes you're actually going on a date
"You... you're really going to go out with him? You can do so much better, Y/N."
He doesn't miss the frustrated look on your face and the way you hug yourself
"Well, he's the only one who's taken an interest in me, Al."
"And if someone else asked you?"
He's cautious with his words, already formulating a plan in his head based off of your reaction
"...there's only one person who I want to take notice of me."
Oh he's stealing you away now
He stands up and slaps his hands on your arms, giving you a charming smile as he leans in
Your body instinctively reacts, and you lean in to meet him halfway, your lips drawn to his-
"Make sure you guys tune into my show later tonight, okay? I'll have something special whipped up for your date!"
He hugs you and leaves you feeling more conflicted than ever, the feeling doesn't leave even after Alastor sees you off for your date
Your lips still tingle from that almost kiss
Your date is absolutely ruined, Alastor having completely taken over your thoughts with his strange behavior
Not that he didn't always take over your thoughts already
But you can hardly focus on your date, who's very sweet, very dumb and a little too touchy for your tastes
You end the date early, already knowing there's no shaking off your love for your best friend
You'll just long for Alastor for the rest of yours days...
Then you remember he asked you to tune into his radio show! Without even realizing it, your feet have taken you to his radio tower
You can hear him in there, getting ready for his show, you grab the handle and press your ear to the door
"Good evening, folks! I would like to dedicate this special song to the love of my life! My soulmate, Y/N!"
You feel your body freeze as a familiar song fills your ears, a song that was special only to you and Alastor
It's the closest thing to a confession that you'll probably ever get from him-
You'll take it
When you open the door to the broadcast booth you can tell he's surprised to see you there
"I thought you would at least be letting him drive you home by now..."
He's nervous but clearly trying to hide it, making his way towards you slowly
"I just wanted to be here with you..."
His arms are sliding around your waist, the nervousness he had before melting away into a smug grin
He's so fucking handsome
"You missed me so much that you ditched you date~?"
Your fingers are tangling in his hair as you pull him in closer, lips nearly touching as the emotions between you two threaten to burst
"And you just dedicated an entire love song to me on air to steal me away from my date."
His warm breath hits your face as he chuckles, bypassing your waiting lips to kiss your ear softly instead
"What can I say, my dear? I'm a fool when it comes to love~"
His voice nearly makes your knees buckle, but Alastor easily holds you up, pushing you up against the door while giving you a bruising kiss
For someone who's never really taken an interest in relationships, he's a really talented fucking kisser
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I really hope you like this one! I had so much fun with it!
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astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
babysitter duty | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
an emergency meeting at red bull means max finally meets the horner family babysitter and chaos ensues
note: i will obviously not be using christian's real kids in this, this is a work of fiction. there will be no real pictures of his kids, neither will i use their real names (i actually have no clue what they are and cannot be bothered to google it lol)
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yourusername added to their story
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[caption: when all the big businessmen crash baking night]
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yourusername
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liked by yourbff and others
tagged: yourbff
yourusername: last weekend before the eff won starts again i.e. my last weekend before my only friends are literal children
view all 27 comments
yourbff bring the kids out me thinks
yourusername my boss literally follows this account dumbass
christianhorner do not take my children clubbing
yourusername YES SIR 🫡
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 223 others
yourusername: wasn't raining in oxford for once so a picnic was only necessary
view all 10 comments
yourbff they're so so precious
christianhorner who taught her that sign?
yourusername you did??? stop swearing so much in drive to survive sir
maxverstappen1 she's not wrong
christianhorner why are you here?
maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 601,778 others
maxverstappen1 best way to start the season and to end a ten year drought in Bahrain!! thank you to everyone in the garage and all the fans in the stands
view all 10,865 comments
yourusername smashed it maxy
maxverstappen1 why thank you i'm blushing
user67 what. the. fuck. is that ^^^
themaxverstappenstan33 i am actually bamboozled
danielricciardo ignoring whatever meltdown is happening in these comments - congrats max !!
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: school run days]
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maxverstappen1 added to their story
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by f1girly77, likedbypierre and 77 others
f1wagsupdates this is y/n y/ln, she's a live-in babysitter for christian horner and more recently, she seems to be the one catching max verstappen's attention. as far as we know they first met after the top officials at red bull met for an emergency meeting at christian horner's home - we know she was present because she posted on her story with one of the kids baking during the meeting. since then she has been commenting on his posts and max posted a picture of him with a girl on his story in an outfit y/n has posted in before. do you think they're cute?
view all 21 comments
yourusername someone fancies themselves a detective
user34 oof she gagged yall
hugsforcharles tbf she has a point, you guys are digging way too into all of it
lilacverstappen i know this is a gross invasion of privacy but i kinda think they're cute
user33 you're not wrong
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maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,206,781 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1 fuck u sherlock holmes i'll decide when i announce my relationship ... anyhow, you're cute, sorry christian but you're going to have to find a new babysitter
view all 23,089 comments
yourusername I LOVE YOU MAXY but i love those kids more so looks like you're movign to oxford
maxverstappen1 i never agreed to that
yourusername say goodbye to the tax free life and say hello to crayons and picnics
christianhorner you'll have three very angry kids to deal with max, but aside from that, i'm very happy for the both of you
yourusername love you bossman
maxverstappen1 love you bossman
danielricciardo this is not usually how this plot line ends
landonorris STOP RIGHT THERE OLD MAN THIS IS A WHOLESOME POST
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 22,301 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername add max moving into christian's house to ur f1 bingo cards - you can't take me away from these kids, they're kinda my only friends
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maxverstappen1 i've been here one day and i'm convinced @christianhorner ur kids are evil geniuses
yourusername obvs they are maxy, they're salty spice's kids
user46 omg she calls him salty spice as well
christianhorner don't make me regret giving you a room near mine
yourusername GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER CHRISTIAN... maybe invest in some ear plugs ;)
christianhorner consider this your eviction notice
note: bit of a random one lol but i had fun. i know people don't like christian (for good reason) but he's the one it worked with. ALSO my asks are open now !!! so ask away xx
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