Overprotective/Angry Oscar X Reader! (OP81)

“By god he’s hot. What? Don’t look at me like that… I’ve just never seen him that up close and sweaty before. I understand why the ladies like him.”

An actual comment from my boyfriend during Oscars podium this weekend.

Broken Nails and Broken Promises

Eddie Munson x Reader

🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀

Summary:

Where Eddie Munson comes banging down Jim Hoppers door, desperate to fix you relationship. One he truly and entirely destroyed in a single moment.

Warnings:

angst! (I tried), Slight mention of cheating! Very minor mentions of violence! Eddie pining over reader! Slight father son bond between Hop and Eddie! I think that’s it!

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Y’all, it’s been a while! Now I know I’m late to the party however, Eddie Munson is one of my many fantasy husbands and I’ll be damned if you think I’m not going to change cannon just to bring him back. Hope y’all enjoy!

PART 2 HAS BEEN POSTED! “Shackled to you”

🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀

🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀

Eddie Munson is a royal pain in Jim Hoppers ass. An annoying, persistent, smart ass prick. Shoplifting, DUI, petty theft, assault. You name it, Hopper has caught Eddie doing it. But to be fair, Hopper had always been soft on the boy. Usually slapping him in cuffs before circling around the block and releasing Eddie with a few choice words and threats of actual, serious consequences next time. Hopper was always met with Eddies wicked grin and a mock salute as the boy stalked into the night.

But, that little prick did help save the world, and yeah he did try to be a hero and sacrifice himself, winding him up in the hospital for three months. Which is why, when Eddie comes crashing through Hops door, at 6am, on a goddamn Sunday, Hopper was ready to strangle the curly haired devil and drop his body in the lake. But he was stopped with an exaggerated raise of Eddie's pointer finger in his face. Eddies other hand lay perched dramatically on his hip as the boy heaved, years of smoking and minimal cardio was enough to wind the poor stoner. Who moments earlier had barreled out of his van, not even bothering to turn the damn engine off. The machine wining angrily in the distance at the decision.

“Okay I fucked up. Big.” Eddie manages to wease out, his hands emphasising his words with an exaggerated flap.

“And I need your help. And! Before you say anything, please just.” He stopped, eyes wild, scanning the room, looking anywhere but at Jim. Breath coming out heavy through his notisriles, lip pulled tight between his teeth. Still pacing the worn floor his fingers fly through his thick hair, curling into a fist at the back of his scalp. The familiar burn as his rings tug the unruly strands proves enough to ground him. His eyes flick up to meet Hoppers, desperate and wild.

He pushed out an exasperated breath as he started again;

“Please just, let me explain.”

—————————————————-

16 hours earlier:

You has been so excited, giddy even. Staring down at your freshly manicured nails. The ends rounded into a perfect point, coated in a deep, shiny crimson. Eddies favourite colour. A striking black “E” applied so delicately to your ring nail.

You had saved for months; pocket money, coins foraged from the depths of sofas, completing odd tasks for neighbours and friends.

Griminising at the memory of deep cleaning Steve Harrintons car, a tasks that most definitely wasn’t worth the twenty bucks.

All in an effort to surprise Eddie. Your Eddie.

You two tended to have wild conversations in his trailer, legs tangled together in the sheets. Bodies entwined so perfectly it’s as though you were made just to fit with him. ‘Sculpted from the gods like clay, moulded in their image’, thats what Eddie always said. It was one night, minds fizzy with a smoke filled haze, thoughts coming and going, bouncing between each other with smiles and quiet laughter. When he grabbed your hands in his, fingers tracing so delicately over yours.

“You know what would make you, like, even more breathtaking that you already are?” The boy pondered, that wicked grin encompassing his features,

“Oh. And what would that be, pretty boy?” You queried back, the nickname causing heat to rush to Eddies cheeks. His deep eyes meeting yours as he slowly lifted your hand closer to his face. You knuckles grazing lightly over his lips as he spoke.

“I’ve always been, distracted.” He hesitated, his lip becoming trapped by his teeth; “By a girls nails, you know?”

He answered his own question before you could speak.

“The way the look.” His free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, ever impossibly closer.

“The way they feel.” His breath hot in your ear sending a shock down your spine as you arched your back.

“wrapped around me, dragging down my back leaving your mark on me. Pushing into my neck.” He had to stop, eyes closing as he inhaled in your scent. Fingers curling into the soft flesh of your hip. Bodies so close, his everything encompassing yours. Twisting together into one.

“Just something that crosses my mind is all sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck, stumble tickling your soft skin. Mouth inching closer to your neck, the area tensing as your heartbeat crashes against your eardrums.

Yeah, that night. That was the night you made your decision and began hatching your plan.

You were going to get your nails done if it was the last thing you do. For Eddie.

Which is why when you found him, lent so casually against a pole, with Crissy fucking Cunninghma’s tounge down his throat. He left hand pressed firmly on his chest, a perfectly manicured French tip of her right grazing his cheek. One single finger nail dragging down his neck. The fucker leaning into her touch, chin lifting to grant her more access.

Well, you lost your shit. Stalking up to the pair, reaching our to practically rip the petite blondes body away from his. Shoving her away, your brain went into overdrive, letting emotion take hold. Fist flying in the air before you could even comprehend your actions, colliding hard with the left side of Crissy’s dumb, perfect face. Her body hit the ground with a hard thud, a small steam of blood flowing slowly from the girls bottom lip. You sieved in anger, letting the emotion corse through your veins.

He had tried to explain, even dropping to his knees as he pleaded, begged. Hands clasped firmly together as he tried to be heard. But you weren’t listening, angry words spitting from your mouth in a hot rage. Crissy had come to Eddie to purchase from his illicit business. The girl practically coiled herself around him, limbs encompassing his like a cobra. She had tried to convince Eddie to allower her to pay him in a other way. Before he would refuse her lips were on his, stained with strawberry lipgloss.

He didn’t want this. But he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t, feet glued in place as his brain stopped communicating with his body. And that’s how you found him. Your anger was justified, of course he knew that. But what he didn’t expect was for you to just leave, to turn on your heels and walk away, as he sits on his knees in the dust.

“Princess. Please.” He pleaded, to wrecked to even pick himself up. One arm stretching slowly in your direction. Rind glad fingers grasping at the empty pace between you.

You turn, and for a moment, the boy has hope. He looks up at you, tears falling from his darkened eyes, staining his red face with hot tears. His arm lands pathetically in his lap, waiting, hanging on your every word.

You throw something at him. The impact as patietic as he feels as the small object bounces off his chest. His eyes darting to the small, burgundy oval, tip filed to a perfect point. A crack runs through a prominent ‘E’ in dark black block font. The letter stars up at him accusingly.

“You.” You point another sharp nail in his direction, his eyes widening in surprise at the new extension. “You, Edward Muson. Are an asshole. And I never want to see your face again.”

As you walked away Eddie slammed his palm over his lips. Wiping angrily at the lingering remnants of pink sparkled lipgloss. The sweet sticky substance clinging to his skin, mocking him as the sparkles engrave themselves into the deep filberts of his jeans. His stomach twisting and throat burns as electric stomach bile rises. He spits violently, doubling over onto his hands and knees and he gags and cries. The content of his stomach landing in front of him in a wet, steaming heap. And Eddie swear he will never taste strawberries again.

Eddie tried to talk to you. If only he could explain. If only he could just see your face again, even if it’s for the last time. To touch your face, to kiss your soft lips. Ones that taste of Vanilla Coke and dark chocolate, a deep lingering of smoke cutting through all your sweetness. He called what feels like a hundred times. Even drove to your house, which he found dark and empty.

No, he needs to see you again. He needs to hear your voice. He needs to explain. To say he’s sorry.

—————————————

So that’s how Eddie ended up in Chief detective Jim Hoppers living room at 6am on a goddam Sunday morning. Pacing the floor in a chaotic and unhinged fashion, long arms flailing around him, har bouncing wild with his movements. He hadn’t slept, too caught up in his plan. His plan to get you back.

Eddie knew that if you didn’t want to interact with someone, they would never know you even existed. Which is why he also knew that words wouldn’t work in you. No, actions speak louder than words.

Jim sits in his armchair, head placed heavily in his hands. Eyes screaming at him for sleep, head pounding as Eddies words bounce around his skull. Reverberating off every bone.

As Eddies words stop, his story coming to an end. He looks at Hopper, arms pressed harsh against his sides as he waits on the older man’s reaction.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about this?” The man grunts, annoyance and fatigue evident in his tone.

For the first time in a long time, Eddies thoughts screeched to a halt. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know where you are. And most importantly he doesn’t know why he even came here. Jim hoppers house of all places, to beg the older man to help him.

The feeling claws at him, the scars etched deep in his skin burn. A reminder of the battles he fought in the past. Of the people he saved, the ones he brought back, and the ones he lost along the way.

Eddies wasn’t about to lose you to.

No way.

No. Fucking. Way.

ready for the spanish gp tomorrow!!

Shackled To You

Eddie Muson x Reader

Part 2 to ‘Broken Nails and Broken Promises’

🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀

Prologue:

Eddie Muson was a pain in Jim Hoppers ass, but when the boy comes to him broken and desperate to fix your relationship; the older man literally has no choice but to help.

Warnings:

angst, hurt, comfort, slight reader x Steve, Father figure Hopper, mentions of drunks and alcohol, mentions of violence

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Here we go y’all, part 2. I hope you enjoy!

Please send me some requests! I need inspiration I’ll write for pretty much any character as long as I know enough about them ☺️🥹

🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀🕷️🥀

Eddie lays uncomfortably on Jim Hopper's couch. Lumps and bumps wreaking havoc on his body, the smell of old beer and sweat invading his senses. His left arm lay above him, cold metal of Hoppers cuffs biting at the skin of his wrist, the other side securing Eddie into this position.

Jim had cuffed Eddie to his couch, haphazardly tossing the boy a musky blanket and floppy pillow.

”Sleep.” Hop demanded of Eddie, tightening the cuff around a single wrist. A precaution just in case Edddie tried to run, tried to get to you before Hop could get a read. Hop couldn't risk that, he would never admit it out loud, but you're the best thing that ever could have come into Eddie’s life. Ever since you two have started dating, most of Eddie's nights have been spent with you. Walks through the dark and empty Main Street of Hawkins, gatherings with friends and family, late nights spent wrapped in each other's arms. These days Eddie was always with you, present and accounted for.

Yes, Hop had begun to enjoy his quiet nights now that Eddie Munson, the devil of Hawkins, was preoccupied by the angle on his shoulder. You kept him in check, something Hopper and the entire Hawkins PD couldn’t manage.

“And before you argue, you don’t have a choice.” The older man sighed as he swept his keys and wallet from the dining room table. Gesturing a point finger at the boy, tone stern and eyes serious.

“You sleep. I'll get eyes on the girl.”

Hop was expecting Eddie to throw one of his usual smart ass remarks his way. But was met with silence as the younger man stared off into space, seemingly weighing his options to his predicament. Eyes blurry with sleep and body heavy with fatigue. He was exhausted, yet sleep evaded him. Without you next to him, your soft body pressed against his, heat emanating off every curve. Your sweet scent filling his lungs, swirling his mind into a fuzzy haze. What was the point of even trying? It hadn’t even been a full day and already Eddie felt he was going mad. His every thought is consumed by you.

When Hopper returned an hour later, having spotted you downtown with Steve, arm in arm as you skipped into the video store. Eddie still hadn’t slept. Eyes wide and wild when the door is kicked open. Rusted hinges squeaking in distress as the split wood made contact with the nicotine stained walls. A large thud echoing throughout the small house.

“I thought I told you to sleep?” Hop interrogated, looking down at Eddie as he shook his head a soft, sad smile pulling at his lips. Hopper has to admit, the boy looked like crap. Dark bags had formed predominantly under Eddied eyes, Skin clammy and somehow even paler than usual. His body lay heavy on top of the worn cushions, long limbs stretched in every direction. Eddie's hands kept fiddling with his rings, fingers shaking as they rotated the cold metal around each digit, before moving to tug at the strands of unruly hair. The sting on his scalp comforted him. A grounding mechanism he had developed when he was young, the pain bringing him back to reality. Pulling him away from the floating feeling that had encompassed his weak body, it wasn’t enough. Eddie began to rub his hands over his face aggressively, as his breathing started to waver. Mumbling to himself as he pinched harshly at the soft skin of his cheeks, causing small red blemishes to form. He felt numb, the sharp sting from the nails now running down his face proved as a reminder. Even though his world had crumbled, his body working on autopilot while his brain went into damage repair mode, he was still alive, for now at least.

“Now.” Hopper began, standing tall in front of Eddie.

“I’m not going to uncuff you yet, mostly because I don’t want to. Partly because what I'm about to tell you may strike a nerve.” The man finished, watching closely for Eddies reaction. Now seated on the couch, legs curled under him. Hands placed on his lap, sunken eyes desperately searching Hoppers. The boy didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“I saw her walking down town with Harrington.” Hop had moved to throw his heavy body on the couch next to Eddie with an exaggerated huff.

Running a stressed hand through his hair in the process. Eddie scoffed, eyes rolling hard in his skull.

Harrington. Steve Harrington. King Steve.

The same King Steve who has an almost crippling crush on you. Eddie used to watch the way Steve's eyes never seemed to leave your frame whenever you were together. Raking over every curve and indent, burning holes through your clothes. Eddie has confronted Steve about it one drunken night in the park. Grabbing him by his collar and shoving Steve hard into the rough bark of a nearby tree. Tone cold and deadly. He would never tell Steve to leave you alone, that wasn’t Eddie's place. Eddie just gave Steve a -not so- gentle reminder that you were HIS. Patting Steve on the cheek with one hand, the other used to push Steve in the sharp bark of the tree, piercing his skin in the process.

Eddie seethed with rage at the picture of you and Steve, holding hands and laughing in the sun. Your hands roaming his skin, just like the rich boy had always wanted, always planned it seemed. Eddie's jaw clenched, body jerking in a fast motion to move up from the tattered old couch. Feet planting fast on the floor, Hoppers cuffs doing their job as the metal clanged from the tension. Eddie let out a short, sharp breath through his nostrils. Face flushed with rage and eyes boring holes into Jim.

“You see.” Hopper smirked, gesturing towards the boys trapped position.

“This is exactly why I didn’t uncuff you. What’s your plan here exactly? You gonna’ go jump Harrington in front of her, sweep her of her feet with your manly brutalistic ways?”

That’s exactly what Eddie was planning on doing.

Jim signed once more, a deep yawn rumbling through his chest. For the first time in hours, Eddie spoke. His voice came out in a harsh crack.

”I just need to talk to her. Maybe-” The boy faltered. Eyes burning with fresh tears and he swallowed back the hot bile rising in his throat.

“I just need her to know that I didn’t want what happened to happen. I froze like an idiot and now she hates me. She is probably living it up with King Steve.” The name rolled off Eddied tongue with a vicious snap.

Hopper signed again, looking up to the roof in a silent prayer. Why him? Why did Eddie have to drag him into the middle of this lovers quarrel? Teenage drama? Bullshit. That’s the word Hop landed on.

“What if I can get you two in the same room together?”

—————————————————————————-

Hopper's van pulled to a slow stop next to you, driver's side window lowering as he shouted your name, beaconing towards you. You scoffed at Hopper's story, Eddie had gotten drunk and climbed through the wrong bedroom window. Landing him in holding for the night.

“You tell Eddie that I hope he rots in a cell for the rest of his life.” You spat in Hopper's direction, feet spinning as you turned away. Hop swore under his breath. Fucking kids.

He opened the door before stepping out of his truck.

“Hey!” He yelled harshly. Jaw clenched and he spoke through his teeth. “Don’t you walk away from me young lady. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

The cool metal of the cuffs on your wrist caught you by surprise, jerking in Hooper's grasp and you kicked and squirmed, demanding to know the charges. Hopper didn’t want to use force, he just wanted to go back to bed for God sake. He put you in the back of the truck as you were demanding a lawyer. Hopper wasn’t about to let your stubbornness get in the way of him and the soft mattress.

You were placed in a holding room, chair cold and sticky as you sat waiting. You seethe in anger, how is it that the entire time you and Eddie were going around you never got stopped by the cops. But, the second you call it quits he somehow gets you arrested?! It was bullshit. And, to top things off, you didn’t even know what charges were being placed on you, being met with silence whenever you demanded to know. A fact you made evidently clear as you continued to yell in your cell.

“Hey assholes! Seriously, I didn't do anything. What did Eddie say? I wasn’t with him last night. I swear, you can ask Steve!”

The door to the room swung open as Hopper walked in, unlocking your cuffs before placing a firm hand on the table in front of you.

“Now, you're not being charged with shit okay. I just need you to keep an open mind.”

You tilted your head in confusion at Hopper's words, hands rubbing absently at your wrist.

The large metal door opened one more time revealing Eddie, shoulders slumping as he kept his gaze fixated on the floor. You snapped your head in Hopper's direction, body tensing. Hop said nothing as he strolled to the door, a light whistle emanating from his lips. You watched as the older man placed a hand on Eddie's shoulder, whispered something, then turned to meet your gaze again. A grin now planted on his face.

“Okay kiddos, you two play nice. I'll be back in an hour.” The door swung close behind the man, a sharp locking sound bouncing through the walls.

——————————————————————

You didn’t say a word as you shoved passed Eddie, hands pulling desperately at the door handle. Fists banging harshly on the cool metal when it didn’t budge. You were pulled back to reality by a cold hand on yours. Eddie’s long nimble fingers reach out to grasp at your fingertips in a desperate attempt to touch you. You pulled your hand from his so fast, clutching it to your chest as if his touch had caused blisters to form on your skin. Eddie’s stomach twists into knots. His eyes screwing shut, his hand lowered to his side, balled into a tight fist as the boy began to shake.

You turned to face him, breath catching as you took him in. Fresh tears cascading down his face, lip quivering in worry. His body trembled in place and he breathed erratically through his nose, desperately trying not to break down right there on the spot. His hair was a mess, even more so than usual, he was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. A dark pit forming in your stomach as a small patch of his jeans shimmers in the dim lighting, the pink patch of strawberry lip gloss taunting you as the glitter clings to the fibers.

“Baby please-“ His voice came out in a cracked whisper.

You turned away from him, chest tightening at the sight of Eddie, your Eddie, completely and utterly wrecked. You pull your arms closer to your chest in a pathetic attempt to soothe yourself.

“Princess-“ He started again, hand coming up to comb through his hair. He didn’t move towards you, feet seemingly glued in place. You turned your face away from his, refusing to meet his eyes as he spoke.

“Sweet girl, please. I- I didn't want that to happen. Crissy she-“ He stopped again as a hiccup bubbled in his chest.

“She stopped me to ask about getting some pot. When I told her my price she was on me in seconds. I-I didn’t know what to do. I just froze.” He stopped again, eyes dragging from the floor to your feet. Slowly scanning their way up your legs, crinkling at your arms crossed heavily in your chest. His breath catches as he meets your gaze, fresh hot tears streaming down your face.

The sight was a punch to the gut for the boy, your beautiful eyes becoming puffy and red, tears tracking down your cheeks. Eddied hated himself, god he hated himself so much right now. Knowing that he was the cause of your pain, knowing he had hurt you, something he promised he would never do. He wanted to punch himself in the face. Scratch that, his fists clenched hard and his nails dug deep into his palms revelling slightly at the satisfying sting of the thin skin bursting under his nails. No, he wanted to beat the ever living shit out of himself, wanted to feel the pain that he was responsible for causing you.

You bring a hand to your nose as you sniffle, wiping away the hot tears streaming down your face. Shaking your head in disbelief. He was lying, you know what you saw.

“An-and, should have pushed her away, should have stopped it the minute I knew what was happening.” He sniffled, shuffling his feet and kicking at an invisible rock.

“I just couldn’t. I don’t know why. It’s like my brain shut down ya know?” He looked up at you again, arms wrapped around yourself. Heart hammering hard in his chest and he took one slow, cautious step towards you. Scared you would turn away from him again, fucking terrified you would just dissapear before his very eyes.

Your gaze landed on his heavy boots, slowly raising your eyes to meet his. Suddenly forgetting how to breathe as you are encased by his presence. His tall frame towering over you, hunched slightly to meet your gaze. His breath, sour and hot, a nose burning mix of smoke and vomit. His cheap cologne, mixing with his natural musk. He was everywhere, pulling at the strings of your heart as he spoke one last time.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. God I’m so fucking sorry.” He hiccuped again as he tried to find the right words. A cautious hand raising to graze your cheek, your body reacting to his touch as you nuzzled slightly into his hand. Eddie's lip quivered, you were so close yet so far away, you were the hammering of his heartbeat in his chest. You were the air in his lungs, the blood in his veins. You were his everything, his knees buckling slightly and a whimper pulling from his chest as you took a step towards him, closing the gap between you.

He sniffles as he brings left hand up to mirror his other. Holding your face so gently in his calloused hands. His rings cool your flushed skin as you meet his gaze, eyelashes fluttering. This was Eddie's last chance.

“I’m not here asking you to forgive me. An-and if you still want nothing to do with me after this I'll leave you alone. You won't see me again I promise. Baby girl, you are my whole world. When you showed up it's like my whole life switched to colour after being nothing but grey. You're too good for me, I know that.” He shakes his head slightly, shaking the thought from his skull.

“But I promise you this, I will spend every second of every minute of every day making it up to you. I’ll get clean, won't sell to no one anymore I-“

Eddie’s desperate rambles we’re silenced by the sweet touch of your soft lips on his. Your hands pulling him by the collar of his shirt, having heard enough, having seen enough. You touch, your sweet sweet touch. As you run your left thumb over his cheek, he breaks. A sickening crack as his knees collide with the hard concrete of the floor, buckling from the soft, sweet warmth of your touch. His body shaking as sobs wrecked through him, arms wrapping softly around your legs.

You peer down at him, hand coming up to run softly through his hair. He pulled you closed, muscles of his arms tensing, straining against the thin seams of his shirt. Your body sinks to the floor next to Eddie,your gaze pulling him in.

“Oh Eddie-.” You whispered breathily, a small sign escaping you. Arms raising to wrap around the boys shaking shoulders, pulling him to your chest as he curled into you.

No words were spoken as you allowed Eddie to pull you in, time passed slowly as Eddie's mind cleared. The sobs that once wrecked him left him tired and sore, desperate for your touch. You knew there was much more to discuss, but for now you're reveling in the feeling of Eddie, your Eddie.

And that’s how Jim Hopper found the two of you. Edward Muson, the devil of Hawkins, curled up asleep in your lap as you sat on the cold, dirty ground of the holding cell.

Soft snores and quiet whispers escaping his chapped lips as you run your fingers through his hair, a content smile on your face as Hopper opens the door.

Hopper couldn’t help the small smile tugging on his lips when he opened the door, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you sheepishly smiled up at him as he spoke;

“Tell him when he wakes up, drinks are on me.”

End.

———————-

Tags;

@ali-r3n @iyskgd @am0iur

A pre-race premonition from my boyfriend

For context; he is a long term f1 fan (and the reason I got into the sport).

He awakens from the dead (his pre race nap);

Him- I’m seeing a rear break lockup onto turn one, as the go into the apex.

Me, now quaking in my slippers; Who?

Him- Who knows…

It’s important to me that you know, he was staring out the window unblinking during this exchange

Hey i rally love your writing! I was wondering, if your requests are open, and of yes you could do something with benny watts from the Queens gambit. With the hat rule( you Wear the hat, you ride the cowboy). Like maybe they are friends and she steals his hat and He asks her if she knows the rule. And shes like yes i do. If you dont want to ist totaly ok. Once again i love you writing thank youu

Hey so like… I know it’s been uh, years since you requested this. But; here it is haha! I stared this blog than immediately ditched it because life got in the way. But I’m here to let out some of this creative steam that’s blocking up my brain.

Side note, this is totally not proof read.

Also- she gets a little spicy

How’s that saying go?

Benny Wats, how would you begin to describe the man? Intelligent, Skilled, Quick witted, and undeniability jaw dropping, stupidity pretty. At least, that’s how you described him. Right now. Cackling meanisily as the words flow from your mouth. Delivered in a slurred, almost unrecognisable pattern thanks to the liquid courage flowing through your veins. Two beers, four shots and three of the “speciality cocktails” deep. The ‘speciality’ in question is tequila. In burns hot in your veins warming your body, causing it to flush with a glowing pink rays. The bounce off your, directing straight at Benny.

He had to admit when he suggested going to a bar to drink his sorrows away after a recent defeat. One that came so unexpectedly and hit him hard, cutting deep in his ego. He hadn’t expected for you to tags along. And he especially didn’t expect for you to get absolutely shit faced.

You sit across from him, grin wide on your flushed features, eyes twinkling with a fuzzy haze as the barley even on lights flicker in the dingy dive bar. It wasn’t the nicest place to be. But right now Beeny is looks at what he considered to be the most incredible view of his life.

Your shoulders are released against the worn leather of the booth, the (also barley even on) tank top sits crooked across your body. Your breasts essentially spilling out of your bra. The jacked you wore on the once fridged autum night now lays abondoned. Slung poorly across the back of your chair.

He had to call it. Benny was a gentleman after all, and he fears if you keep looking at him like that, sitting so prettily across from him- he shuffles slightly in his seat, suddenly growing uncomfortable in his once lazed position.

“Okay, pretty thing.” He practically coos at you as he stands. His skim frame hovering over you. You shrink at little at this, feeling the weight of his stare and the tickly of his words in your chest.

“Time to go.” He extends a hand out to you. Allowing you to slowly stand, head reeling slightly tipping back as if the weight of your own extremely had not been known to you.

He steadies you quickly. Arms reaching to your waste, allowing you to wobble slightly in place. Providing a barrier so you don’t eat shit, essentially. One you are stead he’s quick to move. Gathering up his coat and yours in his arm. Reaching for his hat, you are quick to act. The movement surprising the man. You snatch his hat from the table, clutching it close in your arm.

“I got ya hat.” You smile a wicked grin at him, wiggling the before mentioned item in your hand. Allowing it to dangle enticingly at Beeny. Your eyes shining, glinting with mischief.

“And if you want if back-“ you begin, taking slow cautious steps backwards, finding your footing. The man tilts his head at you, a stern look is his bright eyes, but a small smile rested upon his face. His shifts the jackets to one arm, silently preparing for some kind of antict.

“Your gonna have to catch me!” You yell the last part of your sentence as you bolt through the front door of the bar. Benny swears under his breath. Fumbling with his wallet he throws a stack of whatever amount on the table before running after you. A boyish laugh rumbling in his chest.

As he jogs up to his car, been stops in his tracks. You are leaned against the passenger side door, arms crossed with a shit eating smile etched across your face. His hat, lay triumphantly atop your head.

Benny can’t help the heat that consumes him. His mind going foggy and his head spinning as he sees you, in his hat. He didn’t know it was an image that could illicit such a reaction. But yet hear the man stands, battling with his emotions like some kid if teenager. He doesn’t know what consumes him.

He needs to be close to you.

Beeny practically stalked up to you, eyes narrow and pointed starting at you like a wild animal. You don’t know what to do, like a dear in headlights you stand frozen in place. He’s on you now. So close you can feel his breath on your lips. Hot bursts as he pants, practically drools over you.

One arm come up next to your head, softly resting on the cool metal of the car. The change in temperature is welcomed to Beeny. His other arm comes across you, not touching. He lays his palm on the metal of the door.

“Now darling.” It comes at low and raspy. Pulled from the back of his throat.

“You can’t just go around wearing a man’s hat like that-“ he lowers his voice into a husky whisper. He’s towering over you, making you almost feel small. Hands shaking as adrenaline kicks in. Your teeth pulling your lips into a light hold. Sucking harsh at the plump skin.

“There are rules about these things you know.” He says it like a secret, his thumb coming up to release you lip from the tortuous hold of your lips. Staring intently at the swelling skin.

You push back against the car slightly, head tilting to meet his gaze. Your eyes burn fierce into his. Causing another hit wave to push through his body, stomach tightening and his eyebrows shit up is surprise.

You blink once, then twice. Slow and calculated. Once you know his attention is fully on you, you swing both your arms around his neck. Pulling him flush with your body. Benny can’t help the groan that seeps through as you meet his gave once more.

“How’s that saying go again.” You query, rotating you palms up and moving to place them on top of his hat, sitting so pretty on your head. Pulling Beeny closer, forcing his to crouch slightly, tilting his back back to keep in sight.

“Save a horse. Ride a cowboy?”

You take the hat and place it harshly on top of Bennys head. Causing his to lose his footing and stumble back slightly.

A giggly erupting loudly from you as he places his hand onto top of his hat, on his head. And suddenly, it doesn’t feel right. His misses the way you glow, his hat sitting like a crown on top of your head. His misses that view already.

I love squished helmet Oscar!

something something squishy oscar something something

the only person who had a worse race than ferrari was oscar piastri – and when the leaderboard listed him as 'out', he reversed out of the grass and got back on track. he was not going to DNF at his home race without the stewards physically wrenching a front axle from his hands.

oscar piastri is a goddamn phoenix, and he will rise again and again and again. i love charles, and he is il predestinato - but oscar being a champion is not even predestined. it's literally inevitable.

About me:

Hi! Guess who decided to rejoin tumblr after 3 years, that’s right its me. Just a little bit about me; I am fandom obsessed and looking for a place to share my writing and interact with some lovely people!

I will write for pretty much anyone as long as I’m familiar enough with the person/character. I’m going to list my current toy hyper fixations just for you guys to get an idea! I’m all for smut and angst and fluff, all of it! (So long as the person you are requesting is not a minor of course)

Feel free to request to your little hearts explode! Or just come say hi :)

Formula One (Oscar Piastri is my boy, but I love and will write for most of them!)

Stranger things (Eddie Muson in my love) I WONT write about any of the CHILDREN because that’s makes me feel icky 🫶

Marvel (Loki and Matt Murdock have my SOUL)

Supernatural

Oh hey Fellow Aussie!!

Just stumbled upon your blog. Your writing is so good and gives all the feels.

Hope you're enjoying FP3 💜💜

AHH OMG THANK YOU!

Both for the amazing comment and for REMINDING ME. I was so caught up writing this overprotective! Oscar I completely forgot, brb while I rewind

😭🥹🫶💕