Hey I Rally Love Your Writing! I Was Wondering, If Your Requests Are Open, And Of Yes You Could Do Something

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

Traitor Pt.2 (OP81)

Oscar Piastri x Femeal Webber!Reader

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Summary:

(go read part 1 tee hee) a bit of Oscar’s POV of previous events plus my boy saving the day!

After a shock contract with Aston Martin, y/n Webber attends one last McLaren gala before the start of her dream career. The recent PHD graduate in aerodynamics saying goodbye to her friends and family to study under Andrian Newey.” Oscar hadn’t spoken to you since the announcement, but when you need him most he always shows up.

A/N Ahhh okay it’s HERE! I hope y’all enjoy. Let me know what else you would like to see! Oscars my boy give me reasons to write about him I beg

Masterlist

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Twenty minutes.

It has been twenty minutes since he has seen you, lingering in the crowd. Your soft hair shining, your sweet laugh bouncing from the walls around him; ringing in his ears. Your sickly sweet perfume invading his senses, derailing any coherent thought in his head.

Something was wrong.

Oscar knew it, he could feel it. The way his skin pricked and his stomach dropped. It twisted and churned as a chill ran down his spine. He wiped his sweaty palms on his dress pants, eyes scanning the room.

He was composed on the outside, his face and body a perfect image of calm, but on the insides he was going wild. Adrenaline flooding his veins and panic slowly settling into his chest.

Maybe you ditched the event?

Oscar scoffed at himself, yeah right. You were set on torturing him; the image of his hands running slowly over the plunging beaded neckline of your dress (the one you more or may not have picked specially with Oscar in mind), his lips trailing lightly over your neck, down your skin-

Oscar shook his head, he needed to find you. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

As if the gods had taken mercy on him, his phone buzzed in his pocket, your name flashing across his screen. Accompanied by a picture of you, close up with a wide and cheesy smile, eyes sparkling through the phone. The man didn’t hesitate, quickly clicking accept and bringing the phone to his ear.

He answered the call with a huff, his voice coming out harsher than expected, frustration and anger slowly taking hold. He scanned the room again, praying to catch a glimpse of you. Praying to see you leaning against the wall, laughing at the power you hold over him while explaining how this was all a joke of some sick creation.

“Osc. I need your help, I’m scared.”

His blood runs cold at the sound of your voice, strung out as you sob over the phone. He moved quick, maneuvering his way through bodies and out of the crowded room.

“Okay sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Where are you? What’s going on?” His words are rushed, his mind racing.

He runs his hand through his hair, dress shoes clicking against the marbled floor. He received a grunt from you in response, his breath quickening.

“Baby listen to me-“ he voice cracks as hot tears sting the corners of his eyes. Clutching his phone with two hands as he speaks, a desperate plea;

“I can help you, but I need you to tell me where you are.”

”I'm so tired Osc, jus’ wanna sleep.” Oscar could barely make out the words, your speech slurred as they fell from your lips.

He wanted to scream

He was panicking now, voice shaking as he tried again;

”Please sweet girl, where are you? Look around, tell me what you see.”

he listens close, short breaths escaping his nose as he hangs on your every word.

”S’ cold”

“Okay good- that’s really good baby.” He fights to keep his voice calm, desperate to find you. “What do you see, sweet girl, what’s the room like?l

“S’ bright an-“. Hiccup breaks your sentence, a quiet sniff emanating from the phone. The beat of silence seems to stretch for Oscar, a single second aging the man by years.

“smells funny.”

Cold, Bright and smells funny

Your words play in his mind. Running over and over as he tried to connect the dots. He needed to find you. Needed to make sure you were okay. He needed to hold you and kiss you, to tell you he loved you and apologise for acting like a total tool these last weeks.

He stops dead, mind catching up to him.

BATHROOM!!! It shouted at him, alarm bells ringing.

His feet moved quick, practically breaking into a sprint in his desperate attempt to get to you. A heavy foot planting firmly on the wooden door and shoving it open with a forced motion. The noise of the wood slamming the tiled walls falls upon deaf ears as Oscar finally catches a sight of you.

Body slumped against the wall, legs stretch in front of you. Your head lay heavy to the side, short breaths puffing from your lips. You look up at him, eyes stained red as a sloped grin makes its way onto your features. He can’t help his chest swelling and heart skipping at that crooked grin.

Your smile faded and eyes dropped as your head jerks, falling harsh to the side once more.

Oscar feels the anger wash over him, hitting him in white hot waves.

Who had done this to you? Whoever it was, he had decided, he was going to find them and make them pay.

Nobody gets to fuck with her and get away with it.

He runs towards you, knees cracking on the hard floor as he falls next to you. Arm winding around your waste as he pulls your limp body into his arms. A sob escaped him as he buried his face in your hair, a shaking hand rising to cup cheek.

He ran his eyes over you, methodically scanning for any visible injury, his other hand reaching blindly for his phone.

He couldn’t call Mark, not yet. Knowing the older man would burn the building down if he saw you like this. He would probably kick Oscars teeth in if the older man knew Oscar was the one you called. He shook his head, mind focused on one thing; getting you out of here. The rest he could figure out later.

The phone rang twice before Zac picked up, voice loud and cheery as he greeted the Aussie driver with exaggerated joy. Oscar spoke quick, voice ruff and dropping low as he barked orders at Zac from down the line.

“Call the hospital and tell them to stand by. Y/n is hurt. I'll get her there quicker than an ambulance. Call Mark and have him meet me there.” Oscar didn’t give the man any room for questions as he hung up the call.

His arms come behind your knees as he lifted you bridal style in the air, moving fast out the emergency exit towards his car. He places your body in his passenger seat, clipping your seatbelt before running to the driver's side. Tyres screeching as he reveres out of the parking lot. Knuckles white on the steering wheel as he speeds towards the hospital.

He doesn’t know how fast he was going, vision tunneling with one thought clouding his mind. Years of training and competing at high speeds allowing the man to weave in out out of traffic with ease, cars honking in the distance at his erratic behaviour. His gaze falls over to you, a hand coming off the wheel to grasp yours, limp and cold.

“Don’t worry-“ he whispered, more to himself than you. “I’ve got you now, it’s going to be okay.”

His car screeches into the emergency bay, stopping with a huff. A crew of nurses waiting for him as he arrived.

His car left running as he follows you inside, trying his best to answer the questions being thrown his way.

Oscars knees felt weak as he watched the hospital staff wheel you away, his mind racing a million miles and hour while his chest strained. His vision blurred with fresh tears as the sounds of the ER fade together. Everything is passing him in a blur, his whole world collapsing around him.

Without you, he was nothing.

A shell of a man standing alone in a crowded ER. Shoulders slumped as he gazed down at the sanitised floor, the smell attacking his senses. He didn’t register the hot tears streaming down his face, the lost and longing gaze in his eyes.

Oscar whimpered out a small sob as a hand was planted firmly on his broad shoulder, spinning him.

Oscar is met face to face with Mark, his composure falling as the older man pulls him into a tight hug. Oscar falls heavily on the man, legs giving out as silent cries wreck his body. He shakes violently in the man’s arms, no words spoken between the two.

After ushering Oscar towards the waiting room, Mark watched him closely. The Aussie leaned forward slightly, hands resting firmly in place gripping the arm rests. His jaw clenched as his knee bounced in a nervous pattern, stuttering and starting again as his eyes scanned the room. Jumping slightly at the sound of alarms, head snapping towards the doors.

He ran a stressed hand harshly over his scrunched face, coming to rest over his tired eyes. Palms pushing flat against his eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to warm away the pounding settling in behind them. He sighed heavily as he slumped in his seat, defeated.

“Oscar-“ Mark started, stopping quick as the younger man flinched slightly from his voice. Mark clearing his throat before continuing;

“Thank you, I don’t know what might have happened. If you weren’t-“ Mark is stopped by the sudden movement of Oscar’s arm, his hand raising in defeat.

“Don’t.” Oscar sniffled, wiping his nose on his (way too expensive) suit jacket.

“Please, just don't. I can’t. I-I won’t sit here and think about ‘what if’s’”

Mark blinked once. Then nodded. The two falling into an understanding silence.

Oscar is shaken awake, having passed out once the adrenaline had worn off. Mark crouched in front of him. The older man looked worn, his stained eyes framed with dark heavy bags. A small, warm smile crossing his features.

“She’s awake.”

Oscar sighed in relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to relax just slightly. You were awake, that meant you were okay.

“She’s been asking for you.”

He was up quick, tripping over Mark as he followed the doctor back to your room. He stood in the door as you gazed up at him from your bed. A weak smile crossing your features. Oscar didn’t miss the way your heart monitor skipped as he walked in the room, nor did the nurses as they shuffled their way out. Eyeing Oscar and giggling quietly to themselves as they closed the door.

He didn’t notice, his gaze stuck firmly on you. His movement is slow and unsure, approaching you in the way one would a wounded animal. His eyes wide and breath steady, as if the smallest breeze would cause you to shatter.

You reach out for him, arm shaking and heavy. The drugs running through your system slowing your movements.

Oscars heart clenched as you spoke, voice small and unsure.

“You came.”

He chuckled slightly, kneeling beside your bed shaking his head in disbelief. Oscar takes your hand, his large hands cupping yours in his grasp. Moving to play soft and delicate kiss to your knuckles. He peers up at you, a small dropped out smile on your face as you run your other hand through his unruly hair, doing your best to tame the frizzles nest.

“Of course I did. And I’m staying right here by your side for as long as you will have me.”

You tuck your lip into your teeth as tears brim your eyes, heart swelling at the man in front of you. Down on his knees, his big doe eyes starting into yours. Emotions swarming in them as he inspects your reaction, trying desperately to read your emotions.

Your dad has explained it to you. Oscar finding you in the bathroom. Him breaking just about every road law to get you here in a “actuality quiet impressive” (his words no yours) amount of time. Him breaking down in your dads arms in the waiting room.

“Oh just shut up and kiss me already.” You say, cupping both hands on Oscar’s jaw as you pull him into a strained kiss.

Oscar rising to his feet to lean over you, his tall frame hovering over yours as he breaks the kiss. A small, boyish smile on his lips, his cheeks flaming red.

The moment interrupted by the sounds of a voice. Mark leaned casually against the door frame with his arms crossed, a glint in his eye.

“Better watch yourself Piastri. Just because you got to play hero tonight doesn’t mean you can go around kissing my daughter right in front of me now.”

Shackled To You

Eddie Muson x Reader

Part 2 to ‘Broken Nails and Broken Promises’

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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 ☺️🥹

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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.

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Tags;

@ali-r3n @iyskgd @am0iur

Masterlist

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A/N: let me know below if you would like to be added to a permanent tags list!

Formula One:

Oscar Piastri (OP81) :

Traitor (Part One)

Traitor (Part Two)

That Night {Smut!}

Qatar Heat

Overprotective/Angry Oscar

Unexpected pet name (Requested by anon!)

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Stranger Things

Eddie Munson:

Broken Nails and Broken Promises

Shackled to you (part two of Broken Nails and Broken Promises)

Hey y’all, I’m Here to tell you I am almost finished Quart heat (OP81) Pt 2!

I’m sorry it’s taken a while, I’ve been going through it teehee (we laugh or we cry)

Part two should be out either Sunday or Monday!

Anyways… here is a little snake peak for you….

Pt. One - go read it

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Mark stood unwavering in front of the door, mimicking Oscar’s stance watching the young driver intently. His eyes daring Oscar’s to speak first, a smirk itching on Marks features at Oscar’s indifferent expression.

“Before you go out there, there are some things you should know first.”

Marks gaze met Oscar’s, the older man’s face hanging low. His shoulder weighed with the knowledge of a terrible truth. One he truly didn’t believe Oscar was ready to hear- At least not in his current state.

Marks movements were slow, hesitant as he extended out his arm. His hand clutching a stack of papers, jerstering for Oscar to take them.

Oscar’s hands shook as he gazed the papers, they looked identical to his racing contract with McLaren. The only difference being your name staring back at him.

He thrust the papers back towards Mark, the pile burning deep in his hands. His eyes gone wide as he stared accusingly at his manager;

This was your racing contact.

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Overprotective/Angry Oscar x Reader! (OP81)

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Summary:

It wasn’t that he was jealous.

No, that wasn’t the right word for it.

You were his.

He knew that, you knew that- hell, the whole world seems to know that.

So why didn’t this fucking guys get the hint?

A/N: something about a man defending your honour, just makes me absolutely feral.- also think is kind short but I hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🤍

Masterlist

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Oscar has been throwing daggers all evening. Sharp stares and ever sharper comments at the prick investor sat across from the two of you.

He hated these events, even claiming he wasn’t going. But when you sauntered your way out of the bathroom, adorned in his favourite black dress- your hair and makeup making you appear as a goddess in front of him- he was done for.

Now stuffed into an uncomfortably tight suit, being held hostage at the dinner table. Forced to suck it up and smile, nod politely and laugh at the dumb idiots jokes- well, that was the usual script.

Oscars mood has been soured the second you two had sat down. The snobby rich investor refused his outstretched hand to grasp onto your wrist, which had been laying casually on the table- barley clutching onto a half empty glass of wine.

You had tried to pull back in a shocked response. But instead of letting go, the man held you tighter. Causing the golden bangles adoring your wrist to bite into your skin. Your body went stiff at the unwanted touch of the man.

Oscar was on his feet quick, his hand slammed hard onto the table. silverware clanging together, your wine toppling over- staining the white tablecloth. His narrowed gaze burned holes in the man, his face gone red as his chest heaved. Now leading forwarding on the table, arms straining as he towered over the man. He spoke; low and deadly.

“Don’t fucking touch what’s not yours.”

A snarl-like growl bubbled in the back of his throat as he watched the man’s hand retreat slowly. Almost jumping the table the way the man’s fingers lingered on your skin.

Only becoming seated once more after forcing the man to apologise, twice.

Ignoring the mumbles and whispers of his colleagues and mangers as he lowered himself back into his assigned seat, one last sharp glare sent across the table as his hand found yours. A tight reassuring squeeze as you tried to hide your smile, a heated blush burning your neck at your- usually reserved- boyfriends actions.

Oscar didn’t miss the way you had retread yourself. The way your shoulders slumped as your hands fiddled in your lap, gaze drawn down. A small pout on your lips, the sparkle of the evening no longer shining in your eyes.

Since then, he hasn’t payed attention to a single thing that came out of the man’s mouth. His attention fixated instead on you,

His fingers tracing yours as he holds your hand in his lap, an occasional brush of your hair over your shoulder. Light kisses placed in your knuckles.

You didn’t mind, reveling in the grounding touch of your love.

“Don’t you agree, Mr Piastri?”

The question caught Oscar off guard, his head snapping back to meet the man’s eyes. His eyes narrowing slightly, jaw clenched as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

The man chuckled, his gaze flicking to you. Oscars hand squeezed yours tighter as you fidget under the hungry stare of a stranger.

“I said; you are a very lucky man Mr Piastri. With such a beautiful woman by your side.”

The man stopped, and for just a second, you thought that was it. But no- of course he had to keep going;

“The things I would do to her, given the chance.” His comment topped up with the wiggling of his eyes browns and a wink sent your way.

The whole table fell silent as their attention fell on Oscar, watching him close as he processed the sickening comment. The man’s laugh dimming to a worried chuckled as he looked to the table for backup, his hands raising in mock defence as he met Oscar's eyes.

“Hey man, it was just a joke. No need to bite my head off.”

Oscar laughed.

A manic cackle that shook the room. You turned to him with a horrified expression, watching as he practically doubled over on himself. The laugh grew lounger as Oscar’s anger reach its boiling point.

The action was so out of character for the man, it had almost everyone staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Zac’s face twisted in shock and horror as he switched between Oscar and the investor, mouth opening and closing- never finding the right words to say.

You stood, a hand placed on Oscar's shoulder as you turned from the table. A silent plea to just leave. Oscars hand coming to rest atop of yours, his eyes softening slightly as they met yours.

But he shook his head, palmed you the keys for his car as his head snapped back to the man. Like a lion hunting its prey.

Your wide eyes meet Landos in a desperate attempt to communicate with the amused Brit- who was leaning back on his chair, arms crossed. A wide smile on his face as he watched the show.

‘Fuck. Oscar might actually kill him.’

You could see the veins in Oscar's neck, his suit bulging under the strain of his tightened muscles. -God if he flexed anymore the fabric might just disintegrate-

His fist clenched as he rose to his feet, slow and deliberate. Never breaking eye contact with the man.

He moved with purpose, sauntering his way over to the man. Each footstep a rattling echo in the silent room. Stopping mere inches from the man, his throat bobbing nervously as his eyes met yours in a desperate plea.

-please miss, call off your hound-

Oscars demeanor was one you had never seen, his eyes blackened, his face now calm, deadly so. Eyes brewing with a storming rage, His voice like ice;

“If you so much as think about her again-“

A large hand land heavy in the man’s shoulder, causing the man to jump. Oscar smirked, satisfied with the man’s reaction

“I’ll kick your fucking teeth in.”

The line delivered with a smile as the man choked back a shocked breath. Coughing to cover his discomfort under the weighted hand of your steaming boyfriend.

“Is that clear?”

The man nods quick, a sigh of relief leaving him as Oscar’s hand retreats from his shoulder.

Oscar has taken two steps away from the man, stopping dead as the idiot wouldn’t shut his mouth

“Whatever man, what do you expect when she’s dressed like that.”

The sickening crack of the man’s nose ran true, as Oscar’s hand collided with the now fractured appendage. The man’s chair tipping back from the action, sending him flailing to the floor, suit slowly turning into a bloodied mess.

The man shouted as Oscar turned on his heel, making a b-line for you. His arm slinging around your shoulder in a protective stance, coming to rest heavily across your body.The man’s shouts falling on deaf ears as Oscar steers you towards the exit.

His final act; the simple extension of his middle finger to the man as the heavy doors closed behind you.

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Tagged:

@fangirlmusicbiashoe

(If y’all want to be apart of a permanent tag list, let me know on my masterlist post and I’ll start adding everyone!)

.

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

😭🥹🫶💕

ready for the spanish gp tomorrow!!

Falling Hard- Newt x reader (The Maze Runner)

Summary: The day you entered the glade, Newt felt something inside him grow. A need to protect you, to see you smile and laugh, to hold you when nights were cold. It’s true, the boy had fallen for you, and he fell hard.

Warnings: implied depression (Newt my poor lil boy is sad) I do refer to the situation that got Newt his limp throughout this so please lovely’s, if you think this may trigger you move on <3

A/N: Hello lovely people! My first fic back on tumblr, what a time to be alive.

Greenie day was always tense in the Glade, a new boy stumbling around, breaking rules and asking way too many questions for anyone to bear. This Greenie day was especially hard for Newt, as it was the first since his ‘accident’. The boy reluctantly swings himself out of the hammock, sharp pain shooting through his left leg as it makes contact with the unstable, rocky ground. A constant reminder of that day, the day he had finally given up hope of ever escaping the maze.

He sighs as he stretches, twisting slightly as a satisfying crack comes from the boy's back. He rolls his head to the side, eyes closed as yet another sigh escapes his lips. The blonde boy looks around, smiling slightly at the sight of the Gladers asleep in their hammocks. ‘So peaceful, not for long though’, he thinks to himself.

The day drags by slowly as Newt attends to his garden, weeding and tilling soil. Occasionally helping Alby when the leader required it. Before long the all too familiar shrilling ring of the box alarm rings through the Glade, effectively stopping all the boys from their required tasks.

Newt makes his way over to the box, pushing his way through the crowd of curious boys. Murmurs breakout throughout the group, a light buzz falling over the glade as the boys speculate the fate of the incoming arrival.

“I hope he’s a good cook, I need some help in that shucking kitchen, you guys are animals sometimes.”

“I hope he cuts it as a builder, shuck knows we need a bit more brute strength around here.”

“He’s probably going to cut it as a slopper.”

Newt rolls his eyes at his friend's comments, his mind clouded by his own judgment.

The newly appointed second-in-command grumbles to himself; “Great, another boy who’s going to follow us around like a lost puppy until he finds his place in this shucking hell hole. Another boy to feed, to explain to that we are all trapped here with no escape. Just great.”

As the box comes to a halt a high pitched scream is heard, rumbling its way through the metal cage. Slight laughing breaks out among the group as someone shouts “The greenie screams like a shucking girl!”

“Slim it.” Alby announces to the group. “Gally, if you will.”

The builder opens the box, jumping down as the metal cage shakes under his heavy feet.

“Day one Gree-“ the boys sentence is cut short as a fist connects with his jaw. The builder to stunned to speak as his eyes scan over the new arrival. “Uh Alby, Newt, you might want to come take a look at this!” The boy shouts as the gladers calls and laughter ring through the glade.

Newt peers down, his heart stopping and stomach dropping as he inspects the scene below him. Huddled tightly in a corner, wielding a knife and shaking slightly was a girl. A shucking girl! He peers over at Alby, completely stunned and without a clue how to proceed.

“Alright slint heads, back to work. Things just got complicated.” Alby shouts to the gladers.

But none of them move, shell shocked as they stare at the new greenie.

“You heard him, back to work.” Newt announces, receiving grumbles from the boys as they reluctantly make their way from the box.

Newt makes his way into the box, looking over to Gally who only shrugs, rubbing his jaw slightly from the impact of the prior events. Newt makes his way over to the girl, whose eyes are wide with fear as she scans between the three boys in the box. As he takes another step the girl panics, holding the knife out further as she speaks. Voice hoarse from crying.

“Don’t come any closer, I'm warning you.”

The threat is empty as her voice cracks at the end, fresh tears making their way down the girl's stained cheeks.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. It’s okay, we're not going to hurt you.” Newt speaks slowly proceeding closer to the girl, arms stretched out as if approaching a wild animal.

He slowly grabs the knife, throwing it away from her as he crouches down, grabbing the girl's hands as he does so. His kind eyes boring into her as he tilts his head to the side. She stares back at him, crystal orbs stained red from tears as her laboured breaths ring through the box.

Newts heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might rip out of his chest, as he slowly rubs his thumb over the girls knuckles he can’t help the feeling of nostalgia that rushes over him. The feeling he gets is indescribable, like the first stretch of the morning, or watching the bright sun disappearing over the clouds only to be surrounded by millions of dazzling stars. The feeling of coming home to freshly baked cookies or sitting in front of a blazing fire. He sniffles slightly as tears sting in his eyes so overcome by emotion, his ears ring as his stomach twists.

Just one look at this girl and he knows, his life has been flipped upside down. And for a moment he’s falling, wind rushing through his hair as he screams to no one in particular. But this time he knows that when he lands, he wont be left broken on the cold stone walls. No, he wont be left broken again because maybe, just maybe, this new greenie was sent here to build him back up again.

Oh Oscar, I’ll check it out for you 🫠👀

Too much information, mate...