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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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All You Got

Charles Leclerc x teammate!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You hate Charles Leclerc. The feeling is mutual. He’s made that clear from the very beginning. enemies to lovers anon I hope you’re still here and I hope I got this right!

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild swearing, mild car crash (everyone is fine), panic attacks, comments about sexual activities (but no actual sex/smut)

Everyone in the entire world seems to love Charles Leclerc. Honestly, you can’t blame them. Objectively, you get it. He’s the total package- good looks, kind, generous, rich. They fall at his his feet, and they worship the ground he walks on.

Everyone except for you.

To you, everything he does rubs you the wrong way. Charles Leclerc annoys you to no end. You can’t even pinpoint what it is, just- you can’t stand him. Which is becoming a problem, seeing as he’s your teammate, so you have to deal with him constantly.

Charles was a constant thorn in your side when you were just competing against each other from separate garages. Now he’s your paddock next door neighbor, your supposed collaborator, and the only person who you can truly be compared to. Equal machinery and all that. The truth is, he’s good at what he does, which only makes it so much worse.

You’re having a good season, a great one, even. You’re not a rookie, but it’s your first year with Ferrari, your first year with a car that isn’t a tractor. It’s just that you’re constantly being compared to and overshadowed by him. It’s awful and exhausting and you sit in the briefing before the race glaring daggers at the side of his head.

He’d slowed you down in Q3. You were on a flying lap and he got in the way, left you starting in 9th when you were on track for your best qualifying yet. He’d said it was an accident, and everyone else believed him. Including your own race engineer. You think maybe if you stare hard enough you could actually light all the product in his hair on fire. Then he has the audacity to come up to you after the meeting, to lay his hand on your upper arm softly. You wrench yourself out of his grip, turn to him with a snarl. He must take it as surprise rather than what it really is, because he has a soft smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, again, about quali,” he says, and you spot a camera over his shoulder and fight the urge to roll your eyes. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you, yes?”

“Crash out at the start,” you tell him, raising one brow. There’s a smile on your face and venom in your words. “And take Max out with you.”

“Anything but that,” he says.

He winks before he breezes past you, and if there hadn’t been so many people around, you think you may have actually slapped him this time.

…..

You collapse into a chair in a swanky restaurant that night, resting your chin on closed fists, elbows on the table. Lily, jumps when you do. Alex is sitting across from you, doing a bad job of hiding a laugh behind his hand.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you tell them, knuckles digging into your cheeks. “I’m going to pass all the cars between us tomorrow and ram him into the wall.”

“No, you’re not,” George says as he sits down, Carmen following behind. “Because when you do pass all those cars tomorrow, you’re going to want to stay in the race.”

“I was going to qualify second,” you groan. “I was, seriously-“

“I know,” George says, patting your shoulder. The waiter has appeared at the end of the table.

Alex points at you. “She’ll have a shot of tequila, please.”

“She has to drive tomorrow morning,” Lily reminds him.

“And we have to sit through dinner tonight,” George says.

You slap his shoulder, glaring daggers at him, now.

“Did he apologize?” Lily asks.

“Of course!” You snap. “Because he’s fucking Charles Leclerc, and-“

Before you can launch into one of your tirades, Lily waves her hand. “Forget I asked. Never mind. This subject is banned until the weekend is over- we’re all here, this is supposed to be a nice dinner.”

You sigh and slump into your chair. “Okay, mom.”

Once the conversation starts, though, and you have your shot of tequila, you forget about Charles. You’re here to spend time with your friends, not worry about your teammate. It’s the first time in a while that both of their girlfriends have been able to make it to the same race. You’ve been looking forward to it all week, and you refuse to let Charles sour it. Besides, they’ve all heard it before, they don’t need to hear you complain again.

The next day, when you take 5th and Charles takes first, you don’t let him see you cry. You sneak out of the celebrations as early as you possibly can and head back to the hotel.It’s just so frustrating. You’re trying so hard, giving it your all, and it’ll never be enough. You want the podiums, the trophies, the champagne spraying in your face. You want it all, everything Charles has. He takes it for granted.

When you open your hotel room door, there’s a giant bouquet of flowers on the dresser. For a moment, you think maybe it’s from your family, or maybe George and Alex, a sympathy present for a race that held so much potential. You slip your finger under the flap of the envelope and pull the card out of the white flowers.

Sorry about Quali,

You throw the flowers and the note in the trash and cry yourself to sleep.

…..

Lily tried to convince you that the flowers were actually supposed to be an apology, but you’d refused to see it as anything other than what it was- a way to get in your head. So at the next race, you leave it all on the track. You manage to qualify 4th- not the best you’ve ever done, but you feel pretty good about it. You feel even better that Charles is starting in 7th. He’ll be stuck in the midfield, in the dirty air, while you fight with the big dogs. You’re on cloud nine, floating around the garage, thanking your crew and your engineers and offering drinks on you if you get a podium on Sunday. It wouldn’t be your first, but it would be your first in a while, and it would really crush Charles, you just know it.

“Congrats,” he says, standing next to you in the media pen.

You think he waits to talk to you until there’s cameras around. It makes him look good, being nice to his teammate. You can play the PR game too. You plaster on a bright smile. Behind Charles, Alex raises his brows at you. You tone down the smile and he gives you a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” you say, shrugging slightly. “Sorry about seventh.”

He shrugs. “Could be worse.”

You head into the lion’s den just after that, hit with a barrage of questions about every aspect of the weekend. How does it feel to be starting fourth? Good. Do you feel good about your chances tomorrow? Yes. How’s the car feel? Good. Are you hoping for a podium? Always. What did you give Charles to convince him to let you qualify higher than him this weekend? What?

The reporter who asked it is sneering at you. Your media handler balks at the question, fumbles to grab your arm. She’s afraid you’re going to snap, but to be honest, you’re too dumbfounded to find the words. Maybe he doesn’t deserve a response anyways.

“She didn’t give me anything,” Charles says, grabbing the microphone from your hand, and now you’re seeing red for a different reason. “She didn’t need to. She did it all on her own.”

Which is true, and nice of him to say. Objectively. But he’s not saying it because it’s true, or because he wants to be nice. You can already picture his devoted fans, clipping the video and making TikTok edits that make him look like a saint. He is, in their eyes. In everyone’s eyes.

You leave the microphone with him and stalk back to your driver room.

You run into Charles in the hallway later, when you’re slinking your way to catering to try and find something good to eat. He’s just- there, all of the sudden, broad shoulders taking up all the space. You try to slip around him, but he moves with you.

You look up at him, raising your brows and throwing your hands up. “What, Leclerc?”

He raises his brows, too. “Just wanted to say sorry. For what he said. It’s not true, you know.”

“Yes, Charles, I know I didn’t… blow you or whatever to get you to let me qualify better,” you say, and he rears his head back. “Can you move?”

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. “Look, I just wanted to say-“

“I think you’ve said enough,” you snap. “You said it all, live on camera. The whole world heard it.”

“I was just trying to stand up for you.”

“I can stand up for myself,” you say, throat feeling tight. “I’ve been doing it my whole career. No need to step in now. And honestly, we both know you get off on being the savior, so cut the shit.”

You finally find a gap and slip around him. You walk out of the garage and all the way down to Williams. Nobody stops you when you head to Alex’s room- he’s there, and George is too.

“We were wondering when you’d show up,” George says, as Alex holds his arms out wide. “Fucking bullshit, the whole lot of it.”

You nod and collapse into Alex’s chest. Neither of them comment on your tears.

“At least Charles stood up for you,” George says brightly.

“Fuck off,” you say, and Alex slaps his shoulder for you.

…..

They call a red flag three laps in, and your team calls you into the pits before you can even figure out what’s going on. You’re in third, having moved past Lewis in the opening chaos. Your heart sinks, knowing that when the race restarts you’ll have lost the lead you’d built up. You search the big screens as you pull into the pit lane, trying to figure out what’s happened, and then your heart sinks even more.

It’s a Mercedes, crumpled against the barriers. They only show it for a second, and you can’t hear any of what the commentators are saying. You hadn’t caught the number or the helmet, and- it’s either Lewis or George.

As much as you like Lewis, you’ve been friends with George since you were little. He and Alex had taken you under their wings, accepted you when a lot of the others wouldn’t. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as they help you climb out of your car.

You flip your visor up and look to the nearest mechanic. “Who is it?”

He stares, blankly, and you already know.

“Who is it?” You ask, louder, looking around the room frantically.

“S’George,” someone finally answers.

“Is he-“

“We don’t know yet,” someone says, gently. “Just-“

The panic claws at your chest. You haven’t felt like this a long time, not since Lily called you from the hospital when Alex had appendicitis. You can’t breathe, can’t see, can feel your fingers.

There’s a ripple of noise, applause from the crowd. You look at the TV, see George, standing strong and holding up a thumbs up. It should be a relief, but the panic doesn’t fade. Suddenly someone’s hands are on your shoulders, guiding you into the hallway. Fingers brush against your jaw, unbuckling your helmet and wiggling it off your head. You gasp for air, and strong hands hold you steady.

“Breathe, breathe, it’s okay, he’s okay,” Charles says.

You should be shocked it’s him, but right now all you can feel is panic. You grab onto his wrists, looking for an anchor in the storm. He doesn’t let go, just holds onto you, squeezes your shoulders until you start breathing slower and slower. He only drops his grip when you drop yours. You wipe tears and snot and sweat from your face and sigh.

Suddenly it hits you- it’s Charles, holding onto you, witnessing your panic attack. You take a couple steps back.

“It’s okay,” he says again, reaching out. You brush him away. “Hey, how about we go sit, yes? Have some water?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffle.

“You’re not.”

“Why do you care?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes again.

“Because you’re my teammate,” he says. “Because your friend crashed and you are upset.”

You roll your eyes. Charles has the audacity to look confused. Like he doesn’t know.

“You don’t have to act like you like me, Charles. There aren’t any cameras around,” you snap.

Charles blinks once, then again. “What?”

“You can drop the act,” you say as you cross your arms over your chest. “I already know you hate me, you don’t have to pretend. You can go.”

Charles looks utterly and completely perplexed. For a moment, you falter. He hates you. Why does he seem so confused? It’s not that difficult to understand. Why had he even come back here with you in the first place? He could’ve let one of your crew members help you, or left you to deal with it alone. What the hell is going on here?

“I don’t hate you,” he says, voice soft. “Why would you think I hate you?”

“You’ve hated me since I got here,” you remind him. “Actually, since before I even signed the fucking contract.”

“What are you talking about?”

You stare at him, wide eyed. Is it possible he doesn’t even remember? Maybe he hates you that much.

“When I came to the factory for contract negotiations,” you start, “you made it very clear I was the last possible person you wanted as your teammate.”

You’d been leaving the factory. He’d stopped you in the hall. Sounds like you might be my new teammate, he’d said. Hopefully, if it all goes well, you’d replied. Any advice?

He’d looked around, checked to see that nobody was there. Then, voice low and serious, arms crossed, he’d said, this is the last place you belong. If you know what’s best for you, you will not sign that contract.

You’d left that day heartbroken and with a vendetta against him.

Charles’ eyes go wide when you repeat his words back to you. “I did not say that.”

“I think I’d remember,” you tell him, trying again to shove past him.

“No, no, I mean- I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, insistent, grabbing onto your arm gently. “I- that was before they hired Fred, yes?”

“Yes?” You answer, furrowing your brows at him.

“And before they changed the staff, before they-“ he sighs. “I had a shit year. I was worried the next was going to be the same. I was trying to warn you.”

Now it’s your turn to blink once, then again. “No, you…”

“I swear,” he says. “On my life, I swear.”

He draws a tiny cross with his finger, right over his heart. You take a step back and drag a hand down your face. Your head is spinning, tilted on an insane axis.

“You thought I hated you, all this time?” He says, brows furrowed. “I sent you flowers, after the quali thing-“

“I thought you were playing mind games!” You cry out.

He’s reaching for your arm again. This time you let him. His fingers dig into your skin pleasantly- not enough to feel bad, just enough to know he’s there. It’s like the fight has suddenly left your body. He doesn’t hate you. He sent you flowers because he really was sorry.

And you threw them in the trash.

“So when I stood up for you with that reporter, you thought…” he trails off, then laughs. “What, you thought I was- this is why you reacted so badly. This explains so much.”

“Yes!” You say, nodding. “Why are you so fucking ominous with your warnings? Why were you so cryptic?”

“English is not my first language and I had to be careful about how I said it, there could have been people listening!” He says, laughing again. “You didn’t listen, anyways.”

“No, because then I wanted to prove to you that I could handle myself, that I deserved the seat!”

“Of course you deserved the seat,” he says, wide eyed. “That was never a question.”

The two of you stare at each other for a beat. Then you double over in laughter, tears streaming down your face for a different reason. Charles joins you, his laughter mixing with yours for the first time ever. The noise of it sends a jolt through your heart.

He doesn’t hate you. How crazy is that?

…..

When you run into Alex in the paddock later, he’s staring like you’ve grown a second head. Actually, with the intensity of his stare, you think you may have grown two extra heads. Maybe even a third eye. He comes to a stop in front of you, and you cock your head at him.

“Hey, Al,” you greet him. “Have you seen Georgie? He’s not at Merc.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s at the stewards, doing a debrief,” Alex says. “He said he’d meet us at the driver briefing.”

“Oh, cool,” you say. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s fine,” Alex says, eyes flickering across your face.

“That’s good. I’m glad,” Charles says from his spot next to you.

His arm is slung around your shoulders, his race suit tied around his waist, just like yours. You take it in from Alex’s viewpoint- the proximity, the fact that you’re even letting him touch you, and the look on his face makes sense.

“Hey, did you know Charles doesn’t actually hate me?” You ask Alex, and next to you, your teammate laughs.

“I told you that a million times,” Alex deadpans.

“Huh. Weird.” You shrug. “We should go, the briefing starts in five minutes.”

Alex trails behind the two of you, quiet the whole way there. Charles peels off when you arrive and stops to say hi to Max. George is already sitting down in a chair near the front. You sit down next to him, eyes tracing over him like you’re looking for injuries. Alex sits on his other side.

“I’m fine,” George says, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“Excuse me if I’m worried,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

Alex opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, someone sits down next to you and elbows you lightly. It’s Charles, a cold water bottle in hand, extended towards you. You take it eagerly. His knee nudges against yours, and you nudge him back. You thank him, opening the water bottle and taking a drink.

“Mate, I think I hit my head harder than I realized,” George whispers to Alex.

“Nope, you’re seeing correctly,” Alex says, holding his hands up when George turns towards him. “I don’t know either!”

…..

It turns out that when you’re not busy thinking Charles hates you, and hating him back, he’s actually pretty fun to be around. The two of you have nearly everyone else bewildered for the next few races, because you’re suddenly attached at the hip. You’ve always been civil in public, but this is a different story.

In briefings, Charles saves you a seat, and Alex and George have to fight over who gets to sit next to you. You eat lunches and dinners together in the paddock, out in the open at a patio table. Charles brings you coffee in the mornings, and you bring him pastries. During breaks, the two of you can often be found hunched over your phone, watching YouTube videos together. You have a surprising amount in common. You wonder how you never saw it before.

Charles even takes you with him to play padel one morning, brings you a half hour early to try and show you how. When George and Alex show up to play against you, they stare at you in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.

“You don’t understand,” Alex says over lunch with you and Lily later that day. “He had his hand on her waist.”

Lily is the only one who hadn’t been surprised. She shrugs.

“He was correcting my posture,” you say. “Alex is just mad that I beat him.”

“Charles beat me, you were just on his team,” Alex corrects. He’s not exactly wrong. “Come on, like, two months ago she hated his guts. Tell me this isn’t crazy, Lil. I think we need an intervention.”

“You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about the intervention in front of the intervention-ee,” you say, stirring your pasta. “Intervention-ette?”

“She’s fine,” Lily says, smiling at you. “She’s just finding out that hate and love are a lot more similar than you’d think.”

You drop your fork, wincing when it clatters. “I don’t love him.”

Lily cocks her head at you. You freeze. Alex is looking back and forth between the two of you like it’s a tennis match. You can feel your face growing hot.

“I don’t,” you repeat. “We’re friends, that’s all.”

Lily blinks, feigns surprise. “I never said anything about romantic love.”

You swallow. “Yeah, but that’s what you meant-“

“That’s what you assumed I meant,” she says, and you blink.

There are butterflies in your stomach- where did those come from? You definitely don’t love Charles. Like Alex said- two months ago, you hated him. Well, you hated that he hated you. You hated the way you thought he was treating you. But now, in a different light, his actions seem a bit endearing. You’re just swept up in the new friendship, that’s all. Lily’s reading too far into it.

You tell her as much, and she drops the subject. Alex seems happy to move on, a bit unprepared to handle the whole conversation. But Lily watches you, and you can’t help but feel like maybe she knows something you don’t.

…..

It sticks in your head, is the thing. Hate and love are a lot more similar than you think. And to be honest, it sort of makes sense. Both very strong emotions, both making your chest feel tight and your cheeks feel hot. You’re not in love with Charles, though. You can’t be. He’s just- a friend. He’s a friend, and it’s new, and of course you’re going to spend time together. You’re getting to know each other! This is normal, this is teammate bonding like you were supposed to do when you joined the team.

It’s not weird that Charles introduces you to his family when they come to one of the races. It’s not weird that you’re inviting him out for drinks when you go out with George and Alex after a race. It’s not weird that you start actually playing padel and asking him to help you practice- it’s fun, and he’s good at it, that’s all.

Then you’re out at a club in Monaco one night, surrounded by other drivers. You go to leave, Lily tugging on your hand. The two of you are having a sleepover without Alex. You’re saying your goodbyes, waving and smiling and-

Charles grabs onto you, hauls you into a hug. He’s a little tipsy, you think, but not drunk. You laugh and lean into the hug, wrap your arms around him, breathe in the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent. Then he pulls away, puts his hands on your shoulders, and kisses both of your cheeks.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. Lily has to drag you away as you giggle before you make a fool of yourself. Charles waves and smiles brightly when you turn around. You burst out onto the sidewalk and cover your face in your hands. Really, it means nothing. It’s just his way of greeting people or saying goodbye, it’s a thing he does. But your chest feels warm and your head is swimming, and it’s not the alcohol.

“Oh, shit,” you say to Lily, who’s smiling at you.

“Love and hate,” she reminds you.

…..

You swear Lily to secrecy, and though she loves Alex, she would never sell you out, thank god. You’re determined to act like everything is normal. You can’t be in love with your teammate. That would be crazy. It would be awful. It would be everything that everyone has ever said about female drivers, all confirmed. You’d get torn apart on the internet.

It’s not easy, though, because it’s Charles. Because he’s sweet and kind and handsome, and he cares about you. He doesn’t hate you. He wants to spend time with you, all the time. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but you think they’ve got it backwards. Maybe there’s a second part- presence makes the heart go crazy.

When you qualify in pole position for the first time in your F1 career, you have a panic attack. It’s a massive one, one that has your legs giving out and leaves you hyperventilating. It’s bad enough that Charles almost goes and gets George or Alex, but you beg him to stay with you, so he does. Eventually, he just wraps you up tightly in his arms and holds you there until you can breathe again.

“I’m not going to be able to do it,” you sniffle, as he runs his hand over your hair and rocks you from side to side. “I’m gonna crash on the first turn and then everyone is gonna be right, and I’ll lose my seat, and then-“

“No, amour, that is not going to happen,” Charles soothes, chest rumbling against you. “It is not. You are going to do just fine.”

“But what if I don’t? What if I can’t win, what if I don’t do it-“

“Then you will try again next time,” he says, so sure of it, like he can see the future. “You are starting on pole tomorrow. It’s scary, I know. But it’s just another race. You just… go out and give it your all. The same way you do every weekend.”

“You’ll keep them away from me?” You ask. Charles is starting third.

“No,” he scoffs, a laugh bubbling up from his lips. For just a moment, your heart breaks. Then, he says, “I will not need to. You will be so far ahead you’ll forget anyone else is even there.”

You laugh, press your teary face into his chest. “Shut up.”

…..

You check your rear views before the race starts, something comforting running through your veins when you see Charles behind you. You can’t see his face, can barely see his helmet, but you see the red. Then the lights go out, and he disappears in a blur. Give it all you got, you hear, unsure if it’s your race engineer or you or a voice in your head. You hold your breath for the first few turns, maybe for the whole first lap. And then your race engineer is talking about gaps and clean air and tire management, and you’re looking ahead, trying to see what car you need to try and pass next, trying to tell if you’re in DRS range, and then-

There’s nobody in front of you. Clean air. You’re in first. You’re leading the Grand Prix.

When you come careening over the line at the end of the race, when you see the checkered flag first, when you spot your crew on the pit wall, you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Your race engineer is yelling in excitement. You think you’re yelling too, but you have no idea what you’re saying. It doesn’t matter.

You pull the car into the first place slot and climb out. You have to wrack your brain to remember what you’re supposed to do- it’s been so long since you’ve won a race, back when you were still in F2. Hug the team, get weighed, shake hands, grab the hat- Someone grabs your arm. You spin around and come face to face with Ferrari red. Charles.

He pulls you into a tight hug. Your helmets knock together. He’s saying something, over and over again.

“-told you, I told you, I knew you would do it,” he says. “I’m so proud of you.”

Charles takes your helmet and balaclava for you when you finally get them off. He takes his off too, and his face is red, dimples deep as he grins at you. He’s finished 7th, he tells you. Got passed in the first lap and never recovered.

“-told you you didn’t need me defending,” he says, and you’re laughing, shoving his shoulder. “You did so fucking good-“

The butterflies are going crazy in your stomach. You want to kiss him. The helmet has left a little indent on his cheek- you want to run your finger over it. But there are so many cameras and people watching, and suddenly you’re being pulled away from him, sent to the cool down room. Then it’s shaking hands with Max and Lewis again, watching the race highlights, basking in the excitement of it all. There’s the podium, the champagne, the trophy that you don’t let go of until you get back to the Ferrari garage. The giant group photo with the trophy, more champagne dumped over your head, Charles lost in the sea of red somewhere. It’s all such a blur.

You finally stumble back to your driver’s room, in a rush to change out of your race kit and grab your stuff. Someone has rented out a bar- they apparently did it when you qualified on pole, and didn’t tell you for fear of jinxing it. You text George and Alex, tell them where to meet you. With your stuff in hand, in a pair of sweatpants and a Ferrari sweatshirt, you finally stop and look in the mirror.

F1 Grand Prix winner.

There’s a knock on the door. You open it and find Charles standing there, in a very similar outfit. The line on his face has faded, but his hair is still a mess. You step back from the door and give him room to step inside. He’s staring at you, a soft look on his face. You’re holding your breath again. It’s the first lap. You just have to make it through the turns, get out ahead into clean air. His lips are parted, eyes wide and sparkling.

His hands are shaky when they cup your face. Yours are even shakier when you fist your hands in his sweatshirt. But the kiss he pulls you into is steady and sure and true. You melt into him, shoving your hands under his sweatshirt as he pulls you close with an arm around your waist. You reach up, thread your fingers through his hair, let his tongue slip into your mouth.

When he pulls away, his eyes are wild.

“We have to go,” he says, squeezing your hip. “You have a party to be at. Also, you are so pretty.”

You can remember the way he looked at you at the start of the season. How you thought the fire in his eyes was going to burn you alive. You’d stoked your own fire to burn him up first. Now you’re blazing, and you never want the fire to go out.

“I can’t believe I thought you hated me,” you say, muffling a laugh into his chest. “You’re coming to the party, right?”

“Of course,” he says. He cups your face in his hands again and presses another kiss to your lips. “And tomorrow, you are coming on a date with me, right?”

You laugh, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Of course.”

“Perfect,” he says, kissing your forehead and then letting you go. “Come on, winner. You have so many people waiting to buy you drinks.”

…..

When you walk into the bar hand in hand with Charles, Lily slams her hand down on the table.

“Pay up, boys,” she says, a wide grin on her face.

“Never in a million years did I see that coming,” George says.

“I’m never betting against Lily ever again,” Alex adds.

Max leans down over the table, holding his hand out, too. George and Alex groan and start pulling cash from their wallets.

“Hate and love,” Max says, a smirk on his face. “Very thin line, huh?”

woo! enemies to lovers, classic trope in the bag! come say hi and let me know what you think. send me a dm or drop me an ask to be added to the tag list!

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#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fic #Charles Leclerc angst #enemies to lovers #cl16 #honeywrites #Charles Leclerc

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forteafy · 10 months

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3 + max!

MV1 x 'You and your stupid smile...Get that shit away from me.'

I've NEVER written for Max before, but I'm low-key in my enemies to lovers arc with him.

Loosing your paddock pass was bad; the rain tricking down the back of your neck was worse.

Working behind-the-scenes of Formula 1 came with some incredible perks; good pay, cooperate outings & the anonymity of your life; you’d seen it go really bad for some couples which had gone public. The same had gone for you and your ex-boyfriend, the golden child of Christian Horner.

After a few weeks of cold stares and silence, the press had died down on your part, leaving you alone whilst the cameras were continuously shoved into Max’s face; his stance was to keep his head down, his target solely being his third championship. Eventually, you faded back into one of the unknown faces of Red Bull Racing, a whisper sometimes crossing from a rival team; you. It was you. The ex-girlfriend of Max Verstappen.

Albeit, being well-known may have helped you in your current situation. Instead, you were stood in front of a security guard, arms folded as he waiting for you to pull out a pass. In all fairness, how many women showed up in team attire, playing the card that they had ‘forgotten’ their pass? Your phone was still at the hotel; a silent regret you had thought of, imagining your pass laid atop of it on your mad rush to leave that morning. Fuck Christian Horner for moving the meeting two hours earlier.

You were on the verge of admitting defeat- you would have admitted defeat, if not for the sudden eyebrow raise by the security guard and the voice emitting from behind you.

“She’s okay. She’s with me.” He nods, pulling his cap tighter to his head upon the weather becoming heavier. There’s a gentle pressure at the small of your back; after giving a thankful nod towards the security guard, Max leads the two of you through the barrier, waiting until you reached the other side to raise his eyebrows at you.

“No pass? That’s not like you.” He hums; his voice seems almost a ghost, having barely spoken more than ten words to one another in the past few months.

“No. Blame your boss.” You huff, feeling your clothes dampen by the minute. On top of the triple header, it seems you’re going to be carrying a huge cold through Austria and Silverstone. “Who moves forward a meeting at four in the morning?”

Max can’t help the smirk settling on his face; he’d miss this. The upmost sulking. The sheer black-cat energy that emitted from you. Everybody had been used to seeing him as the grumpy trope, anybody who knew the two of you understood it was so, so different.

“Don’t.” You snap, the wind only getting heavier, now soaking through the Red-Bull shirt you’d freshly steamed that morning.

“Don’t what?”

“You and your stupid smile…get that shit away from me.”

You’d not been able to get his grin out of your mind for weeks. Interviews, meetings, press conferences, nights out. It was always there, a reminder he wasn’t the cold, heartless brute the media could paint him as.

Your mind is drawn out of its trance of thoughts when you feel a sudden warmth pressed around your shoulders, vision darkening as something covers your sodden head; Max had wiggled out of his own windbreaker, slipping it around your body, pulling the hood up to cover your head. The man waits patiently, and at this point your body is so cold, it will take anything.

It’s clearly not thinking either, as once you’ve adjusted the garment, you automatically reach out to clasp Max’s hand, breath catching when you feel nothing but raindrops and cold air.

You prey he hasn’t noticed, ready to simply thank him for his gesture and walk on. What you didn’t expect, was for his hand to find yours, motioning forward, hands interlocked for the first time in months. And you couldn’t be mad, not truly. Not when you looked up at the man whom sacrificed his warmth and dry for you.

And especially not with that smile. A smile that emitted when Daniel walked past, eyes widening at seeing his favourite couple reunited for the first time in months.

Max says nothing, but his smile says it all.

#MV1 #Max Verstappen #Max Verstappen x Reader #Max Verstappen Imagine #Max Verstappen One Shot #Max Verstappen x Y/N #Max Verstappen x You #Max #Lestappen #Verstappen #F1 #Formula 1 #F1 x Reader #Formula 1 x Reader #Red Bull #RBR #Red Bull Oracle

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 7 months

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Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: near-death experience, trauma from abusive mother, DESCRIPTION OF BURNS

—————

When my time comes around. Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down

The cold is an enemy to fear more than infected or regular people in this kind of world. You could be in a remote area with no one for hundreds of miles, but the cold is always there. It doesn’t hide or wait for you to call it out, it attacks harshly and violently with no forgiveness. If you don’t have warm enough clothes, shelter, or fire you’re not surviving the night out with Mother Nature. It feels like thousands of needles stabbing into your skin repeatedly, or a numbing sensation that fills your body with panic when you can’t move your limbs. The cold could feel like you are melting it scorching your skin as it brings you to the sweet release of death. Cold isn’t a friend to any it went for everyone and everything, and only walked away knowing that you weren’t going to get back up.

Kansas winters were easier than Wyoming. Having a building to hide and be sheltered from, though run down with limited heat. You became resourceful, the puddle of blankets pushed right next to the heater waiting for the sputters and rattling as the heat flowed through it to get you through the night. The heater right beside the window allows you to gaze up into the sky connecting the stars to create paintings in the inky darkness. You are surprised how much was coming from the heater. It was never on for this long maybe a minute max but it was flowing steadily through.

“Honey?” The airiness of your mother’s voice threw you in a whirlwind not expecting the softness coming from the usual snarl and venom. “Come to bed with Mommy. Aren’t you so cold?” She stands at the doorway to her room holding her hand out as you push yourself up from the makeshift bed of blankets.

“But you don’t like me in your room.” You whisper out to her. It was one of the many things she ordered you to never touch. But her room was the biggest, she didn’t want you stealing anything as she puts it. She gives a soft smile still holding out her hand.

“Come on…daddy and I are waiting for you.” She says and you freeze. Your dad? But you never knew him, he left long before you were even born. A thing she constantly reminds and blames you for.

Ruining my fucking life….I should never have slept with that bastard…should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant….bastard child along with a bastard father.

You always wondered what he’d be like, probably kind and strong, someone who would wipe your tears away when you were sad and make you smile from the jokes he would tell. To protect you from your bullies…to keep you safe from your mother. You wished he stayed so he’d take you away and it would be the two of you. But you never expressed those things. You tried asking about your father when you were very young but it only led to her screaming at you, how you were an ungrateful brat, after everything she’s done you wanted to think about being with your father. The guilt she held over your head like a toy twisting and molding it to have her be the perfect mother and you the horrible daughter.

Maybe you are a bad daughter…

Your father didn’t want you and she could have abandoned you too but didn’t. Was it love? You don’t think you knew what love is, whether platonically or romantically so those thoughts died. The idea of a father seemed like a fading thought, the idea seemed unrealistic like it was impossible to exist. Staring at the bedroom door that held your mother…and father waiting for you. To protect you…to love you.

“Come on kid!” A voice yells and your eyes snap open seeing Joel above you. Your body instantly shakes and you feel so cold and the striking pain in your shoulder and neck. It isn’t just the lack of body temperature that is painful each shiver and quake causes your body to ache and that produces more pain in your shoulder. Everything is fuzzy and dim your head feels like a dead weight as it almost lolls back if the man didn’t grab your neck to keep you stable. “Keep your eyes open. You’re alright,” He says before he yells over his shoulder, “Ellie where are those damn blankets!”

“I got them!” A young voice yells out and you see the girl holding a crap ton of blankets that she could barely see where she is walking. Another large shiver racks through your body an instinctive groan of pain as Joel looks over seeing your outerwear is off, your coat, socks, and boots are soaked in snow. The single layer of the long-sleeve shirt was still bleeding heavily and you weren’t even wearing gloves. Your fingers and parts of your face were bright red but he was glad to not see any signs of frostbite but mild symptoms of frostnip. The thick line across your throat from the cable made the flesh raw and irritated. He felt cemented in place trying to think of the next best step but he could only see his little girl in his arms when he had to carry you inside when you passed out from the pain and cold.

“Joel move, find the suture kit, and then get something warm for her drink. Tommy washcloths and gets some wood to start a fire. Ellie watch him.” Maria moves the older man aside before giving her son to the younger girl as she takes over the survival and motherly instincts coming out taking complete control of the situation. Your body practically vibrates from the cold and Maria moves closer you try to pull away but your shoulder makes you wince.

“You’re alright I need to take off your shirt so we can check your wounds. You have something under this?” Her voice is warm and comforting and she could see fear in your eyes surprising her used to sharp and cold ones. After gaining more sense of consciousness and understanding of the situation you were in you nod and she helps you sit up the blankets covering part of your stomach and your legs. Tommy returns with the washcloths and Joel with the suture kit before they return to their second task. Her hands move to your shirt and you stiffen and she waits noticing the uneven rhythm of your breathing before helping take off your shirt. Left in a slightly bloody tank top the shirt now clutched between your hands as you hear Maria’s sharp inhale. The noise drew the attention of the two adults just finishing their duties and the young girl.

Ellie had entered the kitchen with the baby to keep their view away from that finding the man standing there frozen unsure what to make, you couldn’t have coffee it could mess with your heart, and alcohol was out of the question. Joel had seen your aversion to the amber liquid. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest and the ringing in his ears until Ellie grabbed his arm pulling him out of his state of panic.

“Joel..” The girl pulls him from his thoughts as he looks at his surrogate daughter, “You alright?” He wasn’t sure where this sudden state of panic came from. He had watched you ride out after one of the horses, himself and Tommy following after entering the storm urgency in them knowing you had no idea what was out there and you were defenseless. They had heard the large bang that sent fear through both brothers before the horses appeared without the rider. Joel headed off where they came from while Tommy wrangled the creatures. He had arrived just before it was too late seeing you being choked by a raider quickly shooting the one that was suffocating you seeing the damage you committed to the other raider. You had almost attacked him the fear and adrenaline probably overdosing your veins seeing the cold affecting you and the speckles of blood on your face.

It was that same fear in your eyes that he’d seen before. The years ago when Ellie had been kidnapped he was too late to rescue her from losing her innocence as she killed her captor, but the same fear that night all those years ago as his little girl clutched his arms as the life faded from her. He saw that same fear in your eyes and it sent him into a panic like he was reliving a horrid memory where he just kept failing. The nightmares he couldn’t remember when he woke up though he didn’t have them as often but when you came into his life they seemed to return. You are harsher and ruthless, everything he was during the beginning of the end of the world but you were only a kid. Tainted with the basics of childhood and thrust into the hate and death of the world. There are many things he wanted to know; how did you end up in Wyoming from Kansas, did you lose your parents during your travels, he wanted to know everything that there was about you. This draw and connection he didn’t think he’d feel. You are blunt, crude, aggressive, and an annoyance to him but here he stood panicking over you.

Why?

“I don’t think we have anything…to um..drink.” He says forcing himself to take a shaky inhale to calm his rapid heartbeat. Ellie seems to sense the panic and see the softness in the man’s eyes. Despite it being about a year in Jackson Joel was still a recluse, sure he helped around the community being a contractor in his past but he wasn’t one to make friends. He spoke in short phrases, grunts, and nods when people talked to him. It reminded her of someone she knew. He only really cracked a smile or told those dumb jokes around his brother or Ellie, and sometimes Maria. But you are here and she saw the softness as he held you in his arms bringing you inside or when he spoke to you before he was sent off into the kitchen. Ellie moves through the kitchen opening a cabinet reaching into the far back feeling the bag of treats she has hidden pulling out the bag of chocolatey goodness then to a fridge pulling out some milk. She puts the objects in Joel’s hands as he looks at them confused.

Ellie points at the chocolate and the milk, “Put that in there and heat it up, it’s good. It’s called-” “I know what hot chocolate is.” Joel grunts surprised to see the candy it looks handmade as he gets to work. He remembers a time when he made these during Christmas with small marshmallows and using candy canes to stir, even on rainy days watching a movie, or during sick days knowing they always warmed up Sarah making her feel better from whatever illness was affecting her. It was domestic and normal standing over the stove watching the milk heat up as he stirred the broken pieces of chocolate to melt once warm enough pouring it into a mug. He enters the room with the younger girl and his nephew and hears Maria’s sudden inhale and panic rises in him.

“What is it?” Tommy asks heading towards his wife stopping and his eyes widen taken over by shock. Joel was more panicked and Ellie was curious about what was going on as she and Joel took in what was shocking Maria and Tommy. They all noticed the scars that litter your arms, they expected something from someone who protected themselves out in this fucked up world. But they were crude the scars probably worse than the injury with the suture work you likely performed on yourself, but that wasn’t the scar and injury that had caught Maria’s attention and soon drew all theirs as Ellie tried understanding what a group of scars on your arms were.

“What is that?” Ellie questions the dot-shaped scars and Joel feels a sickness fill his stomach, “Are those burns?” She says that the adults in the room who did live in a normal world at one point recognize the scars that could only be caused by an object that was used by frequently stressed-filled parents with sticks of nicotine.

“Ellie take Liam upstairs. Now.” Joel’s voice is harsh and the teen tries to protest but with the look Joel gives her she doesn’t dare to defy taking the young baby upstairs the door to her room closing. Tommy stands up holding a fist to his mouth trying to hold in his rage.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tommy spits the anger thick in his voice “Tommy.” Joel gives a warning tone to his younger brother.

“It’s fucking cigarette burns Joel. Christ,” Tommy wipes his hands down his face, “Those have to be years old.” You frown at Tommy's pacing vibrating with frustration and rage. The younger Miller seems to have noticed your look bending down to your level, “I’m not mad at you kid it’s just…you didn’t deserve this whoever did this to you.” You look away from the male using part of the shirt to cover your arms the small burns covered your forearms but the damage was already done they had seen it. Maria starts grabbing the needle and thread but you try stopping her.

“I can do it,” You look ashamed seeing their pity in their faces, “I don’t need your help.” Maria shakes her head.

“Just let me do this for you or we’re getting the doctor.” She places the final offer but you’re trying to pull your shirt back on biting your lip to stop the groan of pain and the once-clotted blood begins free-flowing. Joel curses grabbing one of the washcloths and presses it to your shoulder.

“Stop it! I don’t need your help!” You yell trying to pull away but it only creates more pain for you. “Stop it kid. You can’t see the full extension of it and your previous work isn’t a good show of trust,” Joel says and you glare up at him.

“Please kid, you’ve been bleeding for a while.” Tommy pleads and the rational side that wishes to live wins out but the more pissed off side doesn’t go down easy.

“I don’t want you here.” You say and Tommy sighs but if that was what got you to comply he gets up heading towards the stairs. You look over at Joel who hasn’t moved, “You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.” You hiss and for a second you feel guilty seeing his concern reveal slight hurt before it’s quickly covered by the mean expression constantly on his face. Joel nods stiffly moving out of the living room past his brother the door to his room slamming shut while Tommy makes his way to Ellie’s room to see his son.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional grunt of pain from you when the needle pierces through your skin and a murmur of apologies from Maria. Holding one of the washcloths to wipe away stray blood that spills Maria sits behind you as you sit sideways on the couch. Your gaze is drawn to the falling snow from the window in the living room counting the flakes that made contact with the glass.

“You know you should talk about it.” Maria speaks up and she watches your shoulders stiffen at her words before she continues, “You had us worried when Tommy and Joel watched you rush after that horse.” It’s quiet and she isn’t even sure if you heard what she said.

“We only want what’s best for you and seeing these kinds of injuries on your body. I worry Tommy worries, Ellie worries, even Joel. Especially Joel.” She says and a mixture of a scoff and laugh comes from you.

“What do you know what’s best for me…you’ve kept me here for your safety.” You say, “If you wanted to you could have killed me already so no one would find this place.” It was true if this had been any situation and you had stumbled upon them you would have been six feet under by now, but they met you, they came to the cabin, they decided to bring you back and help you. You could have bled out in that cabin if they had left when you told them to.

“And we didn’t because we are trying to bring back a sense of normalcy here. If we just killed people left and right we would be no better than those raiders after you,” Maria says and you hiss slightly from the needle entering your flesh. “In case you hadn’t noticed everyone in this building cares about you. And no matter how much you curse or say you don’t need our help. Deep down there’s a part of you that wants to let us in to ask for help.”

Maria lets silence fill the two of you as she continues her sewing and you don’t seem to even flinch at the pain. “It’s my fault anyway.” You say and Maria glances over your shoulder seeing you grip the bloody washcloth between your hands.

“I got myself in that mess and I found out what happened….I fucked around and I found out.” Your voice was thick tracing each burn on your arms with your eyes each ranging from light scar tissue from how long it's been others just as old darken from how long the butt of the stick pressed into your flesh. The young screams still echo in your ears as your arm was held to the table when it first happened just to get hit for crying. You learned quickly to not cry when she gave you that punishment.

“And who said it was your fault cause those don’t look like just a one-time occurrence.” Maria presses wanting to hear a name or someone. She prays whoever did this was long dead or suffering a horrible life. You felt a tightness in your throat at the question. You can still smell the nicotine and liquor on her breath the harsh grip of her nails breaking the skin with her warnings.

“Tell anyone and you’re going to wish you were never born.”

She isn’t here she couldn’t do anything. As much as you knew she was long gone Kansas City was running wild with infected from what Ellie described in her journeys.

“My..my mom.” It was so quiet you are certain she didn’t hear you but she did. She pauses the needle held in her hand as she looks at the profile of you. “It wasn’t her fault. She acts out when she’s mad. We were low on ration cards and I had gotten in trouble with Fedra.” It was a ramble of excuses that Maria knew did excuse burning your child. Maria’s silence makes you stop.

“Just…don’t tell them. I can feel your pity eating away.” You say and the older woman frowns she does feel bad for you. No child should have ever been treated like that and she was certain some of these other injuries may have been the cause of your mother.

“And your father,” She finally speaks up as she ties off the last stitch moving to clean the rest of the blood with the cloth, “He didn’t try to stop her?”

“A man that I’ve never met can’t really help ya know.” You say dryly. You wish he was there. Maybe he would have stopped it all, taken you away, and been the dad you’ve only seen in stories and dreams. But he wasn’t. Did that make him worse than her, he left a woman pregnant in a world that was ending around you all. Wrapping your shoulder in the bandage and briefly covering your neck she pulls back beginning to collect the items for the suture kit and bloody washcloths.

“Thank you.” You say and Maria looks back seeing you still not facing her and a small grin grows on her face. It was progress, slow progress but progress. More than a one-sided conversation though not a lighthearted one and a ‘thank you’ not some nod or even forced. Genuine.

“Just be careful with your shoulder.” She says before she heads upstairs to collect her husband and son from the event-filled night. When both Miller brothers, Maria and Ellie return downstairs to head out but also check in on you just catching a glimpse of you retreating to your room. The living room was back in order the suture kit was all packed up the bloody washcloths and your shirt was thrown away. Maria reassured the three of them you were alright and Ellie was a bit upset wanting to see you but retreated back to her room to sleep. Joel looks over at the mug still full resting on the table his gesture of help is forgotten and it makes his chest ache slightly.

“She’s gonna be alright?” Tommy says while fixing his grip on his sleeping son, the three adults had seen the scars and burns, and how you acted to them and towards people explained a lot.

“It was a pretty deep cut and her neck was raw as hell but other than that she’s alright,” Maria explains but Joel could see she was hiding something. There was a look on her face something she knew but she didn’t tell him even Tommy.

“And the burns,” Tommy whispers not wanting to speak up on it around his son even though he was fast asleep and too young to remember. Joel watches Maria as she pauses before fixing her coat.

“She wouldn’t tell me how she got them.” Liar. He could spot the lie as clear as day. But why was she covering for you? Joel nods and with nothing more to say the small family of three left to return to their home as Joel moves to the living room. Your coat hung on the hooks and your shoes and socks were piled neatly in the corner despite him ripping them off you in a panic. It’s as if you were never injured and sewed back together on the couch. Your features for such a young girl held such tiredness and stress even as you bled out. No fear though. Not a moment where you were afraid of dying just wanting this moment of weakness to go. A weight in his gut from the circumstances of today, thousands of scenarios running through his head, what if he and Tommy were too late for the raiders? What if your injuries were too severe for them to help you?

Stop it, Joel.

He shakes his head looking at the couch and your words ring back at him,

“You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.”

Pulling back like he was burned he returns to his room pushing away the insecurities and questions. The still-filled mug remains on the table the only thing holding the memories of what occurred tonight.

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x teen!reader #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x platonic!reader #ellie williams x teen!reader #ellie williams x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you.

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding.

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.”

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside.

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you.

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up.

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together.

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided.

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked.

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home.

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N.

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach.

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers.

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning.

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all.

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe.

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers.

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off.

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too.

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up.

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday.

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!”

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house.

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC.

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up.

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred.

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath.

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester fanfic #football au

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magma-queen · 10 months

Text

This was requested by @giggly-squiggily and I must say, the prompt is SO FRIGGIN CUTE. I apologize if this took too long, but here’s your first prompt, dear! Enjoy! <3

He had it marked down on his calendar.

It was their 10 year wedding anniversary.

And this is the most excited Maxie had ever been in YEARS.

It was disappointing though, he couldn’t take the day off from work to be with the love of his life, but he was certain that Archie had planned something wonderful for them before he left for work.

He sat up, but saw that his husband wasn’t in bed with him. Ideas flooded through his mind. Was he going to go downstairs to find that Archie had made an amazing breakfast for him? Who knows? He had already planned a wonderful present for him. Excitedly, he emerged from bed and threw his clothes on, then headed down the stairs.

When he stepped into the kitchen, he saw his husband sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal in his hands.

“Morning, love.” He smiles.

The redhead seemed a bit confused and disappointed. “Good morning, dear. Is.. there something you want to tell me this morning?”

He saw Archie’s confused look. “Huh? Nothing I can’t think of. Why?”

“Dear god, he forgot.” Maxie thought. He cleared his throat. “You know what today is, right?” He asked, being a little more blunt this time, and hoping that Archie was just playing with him.

“Mmm.. it’s Friday?” Archie chuckled.

Tears almost started to prick the corners of Maxie’s eyes. “Y-yes, it’s Friday. N-Never mind. Forget I asked.” He walked over to the fridge, grabbed a protein shake, then started heading for the door. “I’ll be home later.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I love ye!”

“Yeah.. love you too.” He glumly shut the door and began walking. He finally let the tears flow.

Yes, Archie can be forgetful at times, but Maxie had never counted on his husband forgetting their 10th wedding anniversary. He had to have been toying with him. He had to of! He let these thoughts race through his head as he made his way to work.

Meanwhile Archie was still sitting in the kitchen. He did sense how upset Maxie seemed, and felt bad about the act he put on. He could tell he was about to cry.

But Archie did not forget. In fact, he was planning something extraordinary for his husband. For both of them. Hopefully Maxie would forgive him by the time the surprise was over.

He couldn’t get the smile off of his face. He started making a few calls, then began his plan for the evening ahead.

Back with Maxie, the poor man was depressed the rest of the morning and all afternoon. He could barely concentrate on his work. Courtney and Tabitha would clearly tell that something was wrong, but they didn’t want to make his mood worse.

Maxie didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Upset? Confused? All 3?? He couldn’t understand why the man he’s been married to for 10 whole years had forgotten one of their most important anniversaries. Even his Pokemon were starting to get worried about him. He had assured everyone that he was fine, but he was easy to read.

Once he was finally finished, he left his office and headed back home. Once he stood in front of the door, he was hoping, praying that Archie really didn’t forget.

He opened the door, and saw that the house was dim. Archie was lying on the couch waiting for him.

“Hey, Max. How was your day, baby?”

“It was fine.” He grumbled.

Before Maxie could slip his shoes off, Archie stopped him. “Wait, Max. I’m a little tired from working today, and I don’t think I can cook tonight. Would you like to.. go out?”

He didn’t suspect a thing. “Sure. Just.. let me change.”

Archie’s stomach dropped. Perhaps he should’ve let Maxie know that he at least didn’t forget. He could tell that he was so upset, and didn’t blame him for being short with him. But he’s hoping tonight, he could make it up to him.

They both stepped into the car, and Archie drove them nearby a steep hill in Mossdeep city.

“Um, Archie.. this doesn’t look like a restaurant to me. What’s going on?”

Poor thing, he was still clueless.

Archie smirks and parks the car. “C’mon, I wanted to show ye somethin’ first!”

Hesitantly, Maxie stepped out of the car and follows Archie up to the top. He gasps, seeing the cutest little picnic setup he’d ever seen.

“A-Archie..”

Archie sat down on the blanket laid out and picked up an acoustic guitar.

He began singing. “When I first saw ye, I saw love~ and the first time you touched me, I felt love~ and after all this time, yer still the one I love, mmm~”

The redhead’s eyes watered, until the tears were flowing.

“Looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come, my baby~ We mighta took the wrong way, we knew we’d get there someday~”

“Oh, Archie~”

“They said, ‘I bet they’ll never make it’, but just look at us holding on, we’re still together, still going strong, mm~ Yer still the one I run to, the one that I belong to, yer still the one I want for life~ yer still the one that I love, the only one I dream of~ yer still the one I kiss goodnight~”

His husband just sat next to him and cried. He was so happy.

“Ain’t nothin’ better, we beat the odds together, I’m glad we didn’t listen, look at what we would be missin’~”

He sang the chorus once more beautifully.

“I’m so glad we made it, look how far we’ve come, my baby~”

He stops, puts down the guitar, then pulls a sobbing Maxie close to his chest.

“Shhh, Shh shh.. don’t cry, my love.” He removes his glasses and kisses his temple. “Happy anniversary, darling.. *kiss* I should’ve never pretended to forget our anniversary, Max… I just didn’t want ye finding out the surprise. I’m so sorry I upset ye.. please forgive me.”

Maxie lifts his head up, wiping away his tears, holds Archie’s face, and presses his lips against Archie’s.

“Mm? Mmm~”

“I love you, so much.”

“I love ye too, baby.”

When the kiss was over, they started eating. Archie was excited for what was coming next.

Soon, they both saw glittering meteorites in the sky. Archie saw Maxie’s eyes light up at the sight, and smiled.

“I made sure we’d be here for the meteor shower tonight~”

“It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Mm hmm~ and so are ye, my lovely lava man~ C’mere~”

*blush*

He pulls Maxie close to his side, and they watch the rest of the meteor shower. Afterwards, Archie drives them both home. Once he opens the front door, Maxie makes him sit on the couch.

“You wait here. I’m going to get YOUR present ready~” He purrs, kissing his cheek.

This made Archie’s face turn red. This was such a perfect evening for them both, and now, it was going to be even better.

After about 15 minutes, Maxie came behind his husband, who was still waiting, and covered his eyes with his hands.

“Ohoho~ so it’s one of those kinds of surprises, eh?” Archie chuckles, standing up. “Alright, I’ll keep my eyes closed~”

Maxie just laughs and leads him upstairs to their bedroom. Once they’re at the doorstep, they stop.

“Are you ready?”

“Mmhmm~”

“Alright, open your eyes.”

Archie does so, and he sees their whole room covered in rose petals, candles lit around the room, and his husband already in his night clothes.

“Oh my…” Archie exclaimed. “Wow, babe… this- this is..”

He leans into his chest. “All for us~” He giggles, leading him to the bed. “Let me show you how much I love YOU~”

“Hold on, lemme change first, baby.”

Archie never changed so fast in his life. Can anyone blame him? Cuddling with his husband, on their anniversary, surrounded by candles and rose petals?? It’s romantic!

He came back, and practically ran to the bed, embracing Maxie into his arms. “This is amazing, Max~ I love ye~ *kiss*”

“I’m glad you love it, darling. I love you too. I was worried that it wouldn’t be good enough-“

“-Absolutely not! There’s nothing I love more than to be lying here.. with ye.”

The redhead smiles and starts kissing him around his collarbone and neck.

“Hehehehe~ Maaaaax~” Archie snickered, squirming in his grasp.

“Mmmm? *kiss* What’s the matter, dear?” He teases, continuing his kisses. He knew what he was doing.

“N-nohohohothing, it’s just- pffff- y-yer kihihisses- gahahahahahahah!!”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because the redhead decided to tickle his belly.

“What was that, honey? I couldn’t hear you~”

“B-Bahahabe, cuhuhuhut it ohuhuhuhut! Ahahahah- yehehehe- *snort* ye know Ihihihi’m ticklish!”

“Ohhh~ so I see~” He smirks, tickling faster. “That’s what I was missing on this perfect day~ your laughter~”

“AHAHAHAH-! OHOHOKAHAHAY- YEHEHE WANNA PLAY LIHIHIHIKE THAT? FIHIHIHNE!”

He shoots his arms out and begins tickling Maxie’s ribs.

“GAH-! Ahahahahahah-! Nohohoho!! Nahahahaht the rihihihihibs!! *snort* Ahahaharchie, stahahahahahp!”

He just grins and nuzzles his beard into his neck, kissing him while he continues to tickle his ribs. “Hehe! Ye started it! Ye ruined the romantic moment by tickling me! *nuzzle*”

“Nahahahahohoht thehehehe beheheheard-! Not thehehehehehe beheheheheheard- ahahahahah-! *snort* Okahahay okahahahay!! Ihihihihi suhuhuhurendeheheheher!” He squealed.

Archie chuckles and kisses his check after he stops his nuzzles and tickles. “Yer so cute.”

“Hehe.. heheh…” The redhead wipes the mirthful tears off his face and hugs his husband. “Ihihihi love you, you big dork.”

“Awww, I love ye too, Maxie. *kiss* Happy anniversary, baby. Here’s to 10 more years of ye putting up with my bullshit~”

“Oh, you shush~” Maxie scoffs, wrapping his arms around him. “You know well by now, my darling… that I love you and your bullshit. Now, kiss me.”

Archie growls playfully and returns the kiss, cuddling the rest of the night away with the love of his life, until they both fall asleep. This was an anniversary neither of them could ever forget.

#Pokemon #Requests #Giggly-Squiggly #Hardenshipping #Maxie #Archie #Fics #my fics #tickling #I had so much fun writing this one :3 I hope you like it!

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

Text

❣️Gift Giver❣️

Pairing: Max verstappen X single mom Cherrie!

Word count: 7k

Summary: in which Max’s love language is gift giving and cherrie can’t pretend to him for much longer.

Cherrie looked down at her phone boredly as she slowly ate away at her salad , sat outside on the lunch tables while they waited for their teams to tell them their press schedules for the day.

Barely paying any attention to those around her , vaguely listening to Daniel chat away to Charles about how excited he was for them to go to Vegas, humming along when they tried to include her in their conversation .

Too busy texting her brother back and forth and smiling at the cute photos he sent her of Lola , feeling her heart soften at the sight of her baby girl grinning toothily at the camera .

She really did miss her and no matter how many times she had to leave to do her job, it never got any easier saying a goodbye to her baby. No matter the fact that she knew that she would have fun at her brothers home , happily occupied with playing with his own kids who were around the same age.

Sighing to herself a little sadly , kind of wishing that she had just brought Lola along with her to the paddock .

Although she knew that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to do seeing as Cherrie was well aware of how bad her mood had been lately , and when she was upset it always affected her racing too.

Not negatively, no. But in the way that she channelled her anger and upset into being more aggressive and risky on the track. She didn't want her baby to see her accidentally take someone else out or to see her own mother get into a crash too.

She was still mortified and furious at the fact that Lola had already witnessed her crash once.

The reason for her still simmering anger that didn't seem to be going away anytime soon thanks to a certain redbull driver .

Max had crashed into the side of her Ferrari a few weeks ago and she had yet to even look at him , despite the consistent and ongoing apologies and small talk he tried to make with her. She just point blank ignored him, thinking that it was for the best that she didn't open her mouth around max.

Because she was well aware that she had a nasty temper and a really bad habit of saying cruel and horrible things to people when she was pissed off.

And well, she was already in some trouble with the FIA about constantly swearing and going off on one over her team radio all the time.

So She couldn't really afford to be seen attacking max in the paddock, or anywhere really .

And she knew that she would be the only one that would get all the blame if she snapped at him anymore. Max having made himself out to be this apologetic Angel to the press, publicly telling her that he was sorry and telling the reporters that he was determined to repair their Rocky relationship and that he hoped to earn her forgiveness again soon.

Meanwhile Cherrie had publicly told him to get fucked and ranted to the press on multiple occasions about how much she fucking hated the sight of him and that they will certainly never be friends.

Especially not after he ruined her race when she had been on her track to brake records and become first in the race to world championship again.

She was furious , they're was no denying it but most of all she was getting increasingly annoyed at the way that max just wouldn't get the fucking hint and leave her the hell alone .

They had never even been friends in the first place .

At least , Cherrie had never considered max as anything more than a rival that she had to beat at the most .

She rarely spoke to him and the only time that she ever spent time with him was either at conferences or on the track.

They weren't friends . She didn't want to be friends either, she had enough of those .

She didn't need anymore drama or bullshit being added onto her life. She liked her routine and hated any type of change and becoming max verstappen's friend just wouldn't fit into her busy schedule.

She trained . She raced. She won and then she would head straight back home to be with her baby.

She didn't stick around to talk to anybody and it was a well known fact that she was not to be disturbed once she had finished with her work.

She simply turned off her phone and forget that everyone else even existed for a little while. That was the way she liked it.

But max would not leave her alone. Seeming determined to get her to forgive him and give him a second chance to make it up to her after practically flying her off the track out of pure carelessness around the corners . He had been stupid and refused to leave a gap , resulting in the both of them being pulled out of the race.

Cherrie had wanted to kill him when she had hauled her aching body out of her crashed Ferrari, glaring over at max who was doing the same.

She didn't even let him utter a single apology her way before she was hauling her heavy helmet at his head and snapping at him to fuck off before storming away.

Most people , after getting a helmet thrown at their head and being verbally assaulted to the media, would take the hint and leave her the fuck alone.

She had even expected max to retaliate . Maybe curse her out and glare her down every time that he saw her too.

It was what everyone else expected to happen too, knowing how serious max took winning and how his temper could be just as bad as hers was.

Yet none of that happened.

Instead he seemed to have turned into a needy teenager who was desperate for her to forgive him, trying to get her attention at every chance he got.

Like now for example.

She was still focused on her phone in front of her when she felt Charles nudge her leg underneath the table , still not looking up from her screen.

Muttering a moody "what?" To him.

Charles glanced over her shoulder to the redbull driver that was sending Cherrie hesitant glances as he stood talking to a member of his own team, looking like he was considering come over to their table. Weighing out his options and his luck of being murdered by her .

Charles nudged Daniel to get him involved too, the Australian glancing over at max with a bright smile as he happily waved him over.

"Max is coming over Cherrie. Think you can be nice?" Charles muttered to her with a amused grin toward his teammate .

Thoroughly enjoying watching max run after her like a sad puppy that was trying to get her attention while Cherrie just completely blanked him or give him unimpressed stares.

Charles was certain that Cherrie had gotten her poker face and judgmental looks from kimi, it was almost eery how similar the two drivers looked when they were displeased with someone or something.

It was more than a little intimidating to witness the way that cherries face seemed to tell you to fuck off before her mouth even did.

Cherrie put down her phone , scowling irritably as she glanced behind her to see max walking over to them slowly , smiling at her hesitantly when he met her eyes.

She just groaned loudly and turned back around , immediately annoyed .

"Fucking hell! Why can't he just leave me alone?" She almost whined in misery as she stuffed her face with her food in distress.

Daniel snorted and laughed loudly at the look on her face, as though seeing max was causing her actual physical pain.

"Cause he wants to be your friend. Why can't you just say you forgive him and move on?" He voiced towards her in amusement , Charles nodding in agreement .

Cherrie just looked at him blankly "because I don't forgive him!" She stated back the obvious , huffing to herself as a familiar shadow fell over her.

Max sliding onto the seat at the end of the bench, right beside her.

Giving them all a smile but keeping his eyes on cherries pissed off face as he spoke up .

"Hey guys! What are you gossiping about?" He teased them. Picking up a tomato from Daniels plate and eating it. Ignoring Daniel telling him to get his own food and to keep his hands away from his plate.

Any rational and calming thoughts went out the window for her at the sound of his voice.

Her therapist telling her to take a deep breath and be kind always suddenly disappearing from her mind.

Instead of smiling politely , she scowled. Snapping at him "we're discussing all the ways that I could send you into the barrier during the next race." Referring to that fact that he had crashed her into the barrier himself . Refusing to let her anger go.

Max grimaced a little, sighing loudly. "I've said that I was sorry. It was accident honestly-" he started to explain himself for the hundredth time, having even sent her a postcard with a apology and explanation while they were both on their summer breaks too.

She had sent him a broken toy redbull car that she had snapped in half back to him in return.

Max took that as her not forgiving him in the slightest.

Cherrie glared over at him, unimpressed. "You know what else I'll make look like an accident?" She started lowly , ignoring Charles face palming at her immediately threatening max despite the long scolding that she had gotten from their team for doing so regularly.

"Me killing you. I'll make it look like an accident. Don't you worry." She snapped at him, body tense and stomach uneasy as she looked away from him stubbornly . Refusing to even meet his gaze.

Max pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow in vague amusement at how she always went straight to violence first .

He could offer her a high five and he was certain that she'd punch him in the face.

She was wired a little wrongly , clearly having the same hot headed temper that her father had been known to have on track too.

"Lovely." Max breathed out a small laugh. Easily brushing off her threat , used to it by now. Instead he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled something out carefully .

Then he held his hand out in front of her, clearing his throat a little to get her attention again.

"I got you these at the garage while I was filling up fuel to my car last night.." he muttered a little shyly , scratching the side of his reddening neck when he noticed the surprised and amused looks that he was being given from his friends.

Cherrie slowly glanced down at his hand, brows furrowing in surprise as she stared at the two packs of colourful socks in his hands.

They were both a bright orange colour with different pictures of animated cats on them. One in a adults size and another in a baby's size too.

She looked over at max in pure confusion "what? You got me ... socks?" The disbelief was clear in her voice as she cautiously took the packet of socks from

His hand as though they were a ticking time bomb.

Turning them over and inspecting them with a slight frown. Not knowing what to say.

She had just threatened to kill him and max was giving her socks?

What the fuck?

Max just laughed bashfully , gently nodding his head and refusing to even look over at Daniel and Charles who were giggling between themselves hysterically, Knowing looks on their faces as they watched max fidget underneath her shocked stare.

"Yeah.. I mean, I saw them and I remembered you telling someone that Lola was obsessed with cats lately and well. It just reminded me of you guys." His quietly explained to her sheepishly .

Cherrie was speechless. Looking between the cartoon socks and her rival in disbelief.

Before finally slowly nodding her head. Sliding the socks into her bag beside her , clearing her throat a little awkwardly .

"Right.. well. Lola will love them so thank you .. I guess?" She frowned a little , beyond confused to why he was suddenly gifting her socks out of nowhere.

Max just smiled , relieved that she hadn't throw the socks at his head like she had done with her helmet.

From then on things got a little strange for Cherrie because suddenly max was popping up everywhere she was with weird little gifts in his hands for her.

Last Thursday he had walked over to her table and handed her a bottle of perfume that he had gotten from the airport .

Claiming that he thought she would like the smell as she awkwardly held onto the ridiculously large bottle of perfume and looked at him in pure confusion . Not knowing what the hell was going on.

"Are you trying to say that I stink?" She has bluntly asked him in confusion .

Watching with wide, bewildered eyes as max rapidly shook his head and Hurriedly assure her that he thought she smelled lovely all the time.

While a giggling Charles had tears in his eyes as he watched max awkwardly explain that he just saw the perfume and thought of her , again.

Because suddenly max had gotten it into his mind that random gifts were now the way to her heart.

Like now for example.

Cherrie was walking along the paddock ready to get some lunch, her little two year old stumbling alongside beside her as she held onto two of her fingers with her tiny hand.

Lola babbling away to her about a episode of Spongebob that she had been watching, Cherrie just humming along whenever was appropriate .

Only for her to pause in her step with wide eyes , also bringing Lola to a stop too as they both stared at a familiar redbull driver that was casually walking their way while pushing along a bright orange and black stroller , waving at them happily as though there was nothing out of the ordinary with him pushing a stroller . As though it was just something he did every day

He payed no mind to the shocked and confused looks he was receiving from everyone around them , simply pushing it over to Cherrie and her toddler with a large smile on his face.

Lola just giggled as she chewed on her hand, looking up at him with wide , curious eyes .

Max knelt down in front of her and gently pulled her fingers from her mouth, his face softening as he looked at the mini Cherrie in front of him.

"I can't believe how much she's grown over the summer!" Max exclaimed in slight disbelief .

The last time he had seen her baby she had barely been able to stand up without falling over and now here she was, jumping up and down on the spot as she grinned up at him with chubby cheeks and sweet giggles.

Cherrie laughed a little, stroking her hand over her baby's hair fondly as she looked down at her baby that was slowly growing up .

"I know! I had to go out shopping with her for new clothes cause she doesn't fit the others anymore. I honestly miss her being small.. she was a lot easier to carry then." She muttered honestly before remembering just who she was casually talking to.

Remembering that max was someone that she was supposed to hate. Not chatting with about her baby having a growth spurt over the summer.

She cleared her throat and tried to shake off the shock and the weird butterflies she felt in her chest as she watched max sit crossed legged on the floor in front of her.

Lola letting go of her hand to do the same as she waved her teddy in Max's face for him to see.

Both of them sat on the floor in a busy paddock while Cherrie just looked down at them in silent disbelief . Wondering if she was still dreaming.

Or hallucinating.

"Teddy bear! He's my favourite. Do you have a teddy bear? I have so many!" Lola rushed out to him excitedly . Not shy in the slightest.

Cherrie supposed her confidence and fearlessness to talking with people she didn't even know came from the fact that all of the other drivers had made sure that she was spoiled and regularly took her out for day trips every since she was born.

She had grown up surrounded by loud , loving drivers and had quickly became the little princess of the paddock.

So she wasn’t shy in the slightest.

Max grinned down at her, eyes softening as he gently took the bear she was shoving in his face and stroked its soft fur.

Admiring the way that Lola had the exact same expressions and pretty eyes as her mother did. Max was glad that she was more like Cherrie instead of her father. She was the cutest two years old he had ever seen in his life.

He could still remember the day he had first met her when Cherrie had come back to the paddock , refusing to take off anymore time at home.

Determined to get back to racing she had walked in with a baby wrapped up in a blanket , little Lola just gargling and squealing at everybody happily.

Max had even gotten to hold her and could remember fondly how he had been so worried about accidentally hurting her or not holding her right until Cherrie had laughed at his worry and told him that it was fine.

She had helped him hold her baby properly , trusting him to look after her while she was busy in an important meeting with her team.

Max supposed it was why it hurt so much to see how one wrong move on the track had made her hate him so much. Because max had always hoped that the two of them could become closer.

Before the accident and before his fuck up, he had been so certain that the two of them were getting along nicely.

She talked to him , laughed at his stupid jokes and even hugged him after each race.

And it may not have meant anything to Cherrie but to max it had meant the whole world.

Because he liked her, well, more than liked her.

Hopelessly in love would be the more correct term.

He had been infatuated with her since they were kids at karting competitions , his crush only growing and growing each year until it had turned into overwhelming love for the hot headed Ferrari driver .

But he knew that to her, he had just been another driver that she had to get along with for the sake of her own reputation.

Her life had been racing and Lola, with no room for anybody else for a long time .

Yet max knew that there was something there between the two of them.

He Had seen the way she used to give him a small wave whenever she saw him in a crowded room. The way she used to flush whenever he congratulated and praised her skills on the track.

He had been certain that he actually stood a chance , until that terrible day on the track when he had sent them both flying off the track at ridiculous speeds .

She hadn't smiled at him since then.

Refusing to even look at him most of the time. Too stubborn and hot headed to forgive him so easily .

But max was determined to make things right and seeing as him just apologising didn't work, he had moved onto plan B.

Gift giving. Giving her random and slightly strange gifts until she forgave him again.

Max gestured over to the brand new troller he had been pushing with a proud grin.

Slowly pushing himself up To his feet again and looking at Cherrie for approval when lola whined at him and lifted her arms up in the air for him to carry her.

Cherrie hesitantly nodded her consent, watching as max carefully lifted her two year old up into his arms with ease. Placing her on his hip and bouncing her a little to make her giggle, tapping the end of her tiny button nose with a fond grin on his face.

"I heard you telling Charles that your old stroller was broken. So I got you a new one. It's foldable and can fit into the boot of your car easily . Plus .. look at this.." he excitedly told her as he easyJet balanced lola on his side and pulled up the small white tray that popped up in front of the stroller .

"It's a little table so she can eat snacks while you're out! It's really light too so it won't make your arms hurt if you have to carry it." He rambled to her happily , grinning at her proudly .

Cherrie wondered if she had gone into shock.

Swallowing thickly as she glanced between max who was now busy tickling a giggling Lola in his arms and the brand new, expensive stroller in front of her.

"You- you bought me a stroller?" She could only repeat in shock. Utterly speechless . Again.

Max just smiled and looked at her calmly , trying not to laugh at the look on her pretty face.

None of her usual bitchness and cold remarks making an appearance this time.

How could she insult him or tell him to fuck off when he had just bought her baby a stroller?

It was impossible to feel anything other than gratitude and pure amazement towards the one man that she had so desperately been trying to convince herself to hate.

"Yeah . You needed one so I got you one." He simply replied before glancing down at the stroller with a slight frown of uneasiness at her lack of reaction.

"Is it- is it okay? I don't know much about strollers obviously but I asked the man selling them which one was the best one for two year olds and he recommended this one. But If not then I can get you another one-" he nervously started to babble.

Even Lola was looking up at him strangely as she pulled his cap off his head and place it onto her own. Making max smile a little in amusement as he watched the cap slip down over her cute face , far too big for her tiny head .

He tilted it back for her so that she could see again, shaking his head fondly at her.

Cherrie exhaled loudly, cheeks flushing In colour as she laughed a little bashfully.

Nodding her head shyly "yes it's perfect. Thank you max . You really didn't have to." She mumbled not knowing what to do with herself or how to speak to him without the usual threats and insults being hurled his way .

Glancing up quietly and taking note of the happiness that spread across his face as he knelt down again and carefully strapped a giggling Lola into the new stroller .

Making sure that it was comfortable for her as he adjusted the straps and gave her little chubby cheeks a gentle kiss before pulling away.

Standing back to his feet as he stood beside Cherrie, hands on his hips as he admired Lola in the stroller he had bought. Filled with happiness that he had gotten the right one and made Cherrie absolutely speechless at the same time .

It was a good feeling knowing that he had done something right for once.

Glancing beside him to her with a gentle smile , he casually asked her “ You want to go get some ice cream? We can test the new stroller out. See if it's street safe." He made up an excuse to continue spending time with her.

Cherrie couldn't say no. How could she ever say no to him again when he was doing sweet things like this for her after she had been nothing but a bitch to him lately?

Simply nodding her head yes and watching in silent disbelief as max took ahold of the handles and begun to push Lola In the stroller proudly . Making silly faces down to her to make her laugh.

Cherrie hesitatingly walking beside him, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she glanced up at a smiling Max in consideration .

Swallowing deeply as she felt the familiar butterflies swarm her chest. Pursing her lips to herself as she tore her eyes away from his face, instead catching the knowing glances from both Charles and Daniel as they both childishly held up their hands in the shape of hearts at her.

Daniel mimicking kissing in the air in front of him as he laughed loudly at the look on her face , nodding pointedly to max beside her who was too busy making Lola laugh to notice them winding her up .

She flushed darkly and quickly looked away from them.

It's getting a little harder to hate him. She thought to herself a little defeatedly.

Wondering what the hell was happening to her and not understanding why she suddenly felt so happy and content walking beside someone who she had convinced herself to hate.

Cherrie realised that max liked her a month later when they were both hanging around near the track after completing another qualifying session. Both of them waiting for their teams to tell them what to do and where to go next.

Cherrie was leaning against the wall boredly with her arms crossed over her chest , race suit hanging loosely around her waist as she watched people run around like headless chickens. Keeping to herself as she fanned her face with her hand, the sun blaring down on them hotly .

She felt someone come up beside her quietly before clearing their throat to get her attention.

Fighting back a long sigh when she came face to face with max who was stood a little awkwardly beside her with his hands on his hips, clearly searching for something to say to her.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he nervously looked up at the bright blue sky and blurted out

"It's pretty hot isn't?" Almost cringing to himself at how out of everything he could have said , he had chosen weather as a conversation starter.

Cherrie glanced at the sun with a slight frown "er- yeah. We're in Spain so.." she gave a little confused laugh , side eyeing a awkward looking max in amusement . "It's always hot here."

He pursed his lips, face colouring as he nodded his head along in agreement. Feeling like an idiot.

"Yeah. Yeah.. you're right . Would've been nice to have a breeze though. It's too hot to be comfortable." He rambled on unable to stop himself from talking about the weather now that he had started .

His heart racing nervously in his chest as he ignored Daniel who was shaking his head at him while giggling in amusement a little further down, clearly listening in on his pathetic attempt to get Cherrie to talk to him .

Daniel had advised him to just be himself.

But how was that supposed to help him when being himself made him into a flustered, awkward mess?

Cherrie nodded along slowly , not wanting to embarrass him anymore than he already was.

She decided to give him a chance , humming a long a little as she fidgeted with the sleeves of the racing suit that was tied around her lower waist .

"Mmm. I've got a nice big fan back at the hotel though. So it's not too bad." She replied quietly , glancing at his sunburned cheeks and smiling subtly to herself at how cute he looked fumbling beside her for something to say to carry on the odd conversation. Not wanting to leave her side.

Max tilted his head, a minute passing by uncomfortably before he finally spoke up again.

"I er- I got you something but it's back at my hotel room." He mumbled a little shyly , glancing away from her. Unable to hold eye contact for long .

Her eyes seemed even lighter and sharper in the sunlight , sometimes it was like she was too beautiful for him to look at .

Her beauty was intimidating and max felt like a absolute idiot stood next to her. Sweating like a pig and no doubt resembling a lobster after forgetting to pack sunscreen before they arrived .

Cherrie looked over at him in surprise "what did you get me? I already told you that you don't need to buy me anything max.." she trailed off . A little curious and excited to see what he had gotten her this time despite herself.

Because max had been giving her the strangest and most random of things lately.

Last weekend he had gotten her a giant glass bottle filled with rock candy after he saw her eating it while at w yacht party with the rest of the drivers. Hearing her convince Charles to try it too, telling him that it was her favourited candy to eat but that she barely was able to find it unless she went to the beach.

She had returned home the next day to find a bottle filled with the candy. A never ending amount and small note from max that simply read.

'So you don't run out!' Alongside a smaller tub of haribos for Lola to eat too .

After she had told him that her two year old like to wear the ring sweets like jewellery in each of her tiny fingers , chomping on them whenever they were out.

Cherrie couldn't believe how intentive he was towards her and her baby. Considering she had spent months being horrible to him, he sure did know a lot about her .

It was sweet.

Max just smiled at her , shrugging his shoulders a little shyly . "It's nothing much. Just some makeup I saw at the airport . The woman on the front of the packet had eyes like yours and I thought that the makeup would make your eyes look even prettier. It was sparkly I think.." he awkwardly explained to her.

Cherrie blinked at him, before deciding to mess with him a Little .

Frowning at him as though she was offended "are you saying that I need makeup because I'm ugly without it?" She gasped at him. Trying not to laugh at the way max immediately paled and looked back at her with wide eyes.

Rapidly shaking his head no "no!no! You're beautiful, always! You don't need makeup . You're the most beautiful woman in the world and you don't need anything to make you look better because you're already a hundred on a scale of ten and-" he rambled on nervously , flapping his hands about in the air like a nervous bird .

Only to freeze in mid panicked ramble when Cherrie suddenly burst out into loud laughter , shaking her head at him in pure amusement .

"You looked so scared! Oh my god! Am I really that scary?" She gasped out between giggles , grinning at him mischievously.

Max placed his hands on his hips and gave her a disapproving sigh. Smiling despite the way his heart was racing in his chest at the thought of upsetting her.

"You're very scary when you want to be.." he admitted to her , chuckling a little.

Scratching at the back of his neck bashfully as he peered over at her shyly. "But - you're not mad right?"

Cherrie just smiled and wrapped her arm around his shoulder , pulling him into a brief side hug without even thinking about her actions . Just doing what felt right for a change.

Missing the way Max's eyes widened and his skin flushed red as he hesitantly hugged her back.

Daniel giving him a pleased thumbs up as he watched them from afar like a proud dad watching his kid ask some girl to the dance .

"Kiss her!" He mouthed at him with a teasing grin.

Max pulled a face back at him, quickly looking away with a nervous chuckle.

Glancing down at a smiling Cherrie with butterflies rapidly filling his stomach .

"Hey Cherrie?" He took a deep breath to gather all of his confidence and asked her quietly "you want to get dinner tonight?" Preparing himself for brutal rejection like usual .

Expecting her to scoff at him meanly and tell him to fuck off.

Only to be more than surprised when she simply sighed in defeat and nodded her head yes. Looking like she had come to a understanding with herself , slowly relaxing against him.

She stopped trying to pretend that she hated him. And she finally let her petty anger go and gave him a chance .

"Sure. But I'm paying this time! You've bought me enough." She told him seriously , smiling up at him fondly when he went quiet for a little too long.

Shock written all across his blushing face as he tried not to fist bump the air like a little kid.

"Awesome. Cool. Great. That's - that's really amazing-" he breathed out giddily , smiling at her like a love struck idiot.

Cherrie just laughed and patted his shoulder before finally pulling away.

Giving him a playful look and a teasing wink "I'll see you at seven then!" She told him before casually walking away.

Leaving max to stand there with his mouth gaping open in disbelief , heart hammering in his chest.

"I'm gonna buy her a ring next." He blurted out to a proud looking Daniel who happily patted him on his back and congratulated him on finally making a move.

A awkward and slightly odd move, but a move none the less .

After they started dating Cherrie had assumed that Max's gifts would stop now that he didn't have to keep gift giving to her out of guilt anymore .

Having told him many times over their dating time that she no longer held a grudge against him, that she forgave him a long time ago.

But the gifts never stopped .

Every month without a doubt she could guarantee that max would be casually presenting her with a new surprise each time.

When she had asked him why he kept doing it , telling him that he don't need to impress her anymore, that she was already dating him and loved him without the fancy gifts .

He had merely shook his head and told her like it was obvious "you don't stop putting effort into the person you love just because things are official. I wanna keep impressing you and surprising you forever . You're special to me and I always want to make sure that you know that."

"And I'm not so good with words but I think I'm an excellent gift giver. So each gift that I give you is my way of saying 'I love you' . Always." He had simply told her.

Cherrie had stopped telling him not to spend his money on her after that.

Instead she let herself get excited and looked forward to each month that came by , her and Lola wondering what he had gotten them this time.

Because max , as it turned out, was the best gift giver in the world.

In January he got Lola a miniature version of a Lamborghini.

Laughing hysterically to himself when he took her around their neighbourhood in it, proudly videoing the toddler zooming around the corners like a pro.

“She’s gonna be the next world champion! We need to get her into karting as soon as we can!” Max had exclaimed giddily to her , shouting his praise to the giggling toddler who was whipping around the corner like a nascar driver .

The love for the little girl so obviously written across his face , even having a few tears in his eyes when she asked him with big hopeful eyes if she could drive for redbull just like he did when she was older.

Cherrie had watched max choke on his own tears of happiness as he took her daughter into his arms like she was his own, proudly telling her that she could be whatever she wanted to, that he would be proud of her no matter what.

Cherrie had fell even deeper in love with him that day. That was the day that they became a family.

In February he got them a bright orange kitten with more fur than face.

Lola had cried happy tears as she sobbed into Max's chest and screamed over and over again that she was going to love him forever for this. Max had cried too. Because of course he did.

And Cherrie would never admit it to anyone but there were tears in her own eyes as she witnessed the growing bond been her toddler and max only grow stronger by the day . Easily stepping up into the role of her father without them even needing to talk about it.

Lola loved max and max loved Lola. It was as simple and as easy as that.

In March he got them a two week trip to Hawaii with all their friends .

In April he bought her a bright red and black Ferrari to match his own after seeing how much she loved his car , complaining that it made her Jaguar look boring .

Leaving it in her drive way with a giant gold bow wrapped around it.

Cherrie had given him the best sex of his life that night. And max proudly became her passenger princess too.

In may, on her birthday . Max had presented them with a lease and keys to a new house in Monaco.

Proudly showing her the garden where he had a playground already built in for Lola, a large swimming pool inside and out. Telling her with a smile that he wanted them to live together and be a proper family . That he wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of his life.

He wanted her late nights and early mornings. He wanted to be there to make Lola breakfast before nursery. He wanted to be there for every moment, telling her seriously that he didn’t want to miss a thing

Cherrie and Lola had moved in the very next day.

In June max bought her a giant , realistic statues of all the animals that they had seen in the zoo.

Making them a pretend zoo in their garden after Lola had told him that she wanted her own pretend zoo too.

Now the first thing that Cherrie saw when she walked to the bottom of their garden was a realistic giraffe towering over her and a giant gorilla and lion statue hidden behind the trees too.

Max likes to conveniently forgot to tell their friends they had the overly realistic statues in their garden, enjoying watching them scream when they hung out around the pool, laughing hysterically while they screamed in fear as they spotted a lion out of the corner of their eyes.

In July max bought her a sauna after watching her wince with pain in her back, having read that a sauna would help with her sore muscles , he had one fitted into their home while she was at her mothers for the weekend.

Max had sex in a sauna for the first time in his life when she came home and jumped him the moment she saw the sauna with her name engraved onto the door prettily .

Best money he had ever spent in his opinion.

In august he bought Lola a stable and a white horse after she had told him that she wanted one of her own.

In September max bought Cherrie a fancy motorhome so that they could travel around from state to state during the holidays together.

In October max bought her a pregnancy test after watching her throw up for the third time in two days.

The test was positive and max had cried like he had never cried before. Holding onto Cherrie and Lola in his arms tightly and promising them that he loved them both more than life itself . That he was going to be the father that he had always wanted. Determined not to be like his own father .

He was proudly breaking the generational cycle of trauma.

In November max bought everything a baby could possibly need. They spent all weekend building baby furniture and painting the nursery with a Mural of both of their racing cars. A Ferrari and redbull side by side .

And in December Cherrie finally bought him something of her own.

She gave him a ring and got down on one knee on Christmas morning and asked max to marry her, laughing affectionately when max immediately burst into tears and swooped himself into her arms , pulling little Lola into their family embrace too.

He said yes.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fic #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fic #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

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formulapai · 2 months

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DAY TWENTY ONE : SECOND CHANCE

MAX VERSTAPPEN

Your legs bounce anxiously as you sit on your couch, teeth gnawing at your lips as your eyes are fixed on the television. The image being replayed over and over again shows a car getting out of track, spinning on itself until it crashes into a wall in a show of smoke and flying carbon. The pilot is yet to get out but you know who it is, everyone knows who’s inside what’s left of the car, the shining number One left untouched on the nose of the car. The two commentators’ worried chatter is a white noise for you, ears buzzing and foot tapping the floor as a red flag is finally put out, safety car and medics coming into sight as they drive towards the crash.

You let out a trapped breath when Max is freed from the car, beaten and bruised but still standing proud as he walks towards the safety car, accompanied and followed closely as he’s a little wobbly on his legs. Without putting much thoughts into it, your hand swiftly reaches for your phone and you open the texting app to find Raymond, Max’s manager. The both of you have broken up some months ago after years of living together, public’s pressure and his will to focus on his job leading to him calling it quit between the two of you, so you surely shouldn’t be reaching out to his manager to have some infos about him, yet here you are.

You know Max still loves you, he’s said so many times yet he refuses to contact you anymore, refuses to put you at risk of him going back to his old ways, ignoring you for days because of his job and counting on your kindness to forgive him, getting upset when you can’t show up to his races despite knowing you have a demanding job, all the things making him decide that you’re better off without him. But when he’s accompanied to a helicopter so he can fly to the closest hospital to get checked up and his manager comes with him, when he admits that you’re anxiously waiting for updates and sending him “too many” messages, he lets his wall break down and blame the crash for his tears.

It’s hours later when your phone lights up, his contact photo enveloping your dark room in a comforting light, and you hastily answer. His voice is unsure and tired, deeper than it usually is and his words are slurred due to the painkillers, but he’s still there with you and it’s enough for him, enough for the both of you. He admits that he can’t sleep without you, not anymore, not even after months of trying. You respond that you’re the same, that your bed feels way too big only for you and that he’s not there anymore to chase your bad dreams away. Then he apologizes, again, always, and you forgive him, again, always. He promises he’ll do better, he’ll get better, he’ll never treat you like he did before, he’ll stop ignoring you and blaming it on his job.

And your friends will hate you for it, you should hate yourself for it, as you carefully tells him that everything’s alright and everything will be fine, perfect even, as long as you have him and he has you.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen

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g3z0 · 3 months

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Rich stupid Highschool Kids P6

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5

Summary: The Sturniolo‘s. Their kids are rich and spoiled, stupid brats. You hated them. But you hated Nicolas the most. The way he looks down on everybody and thinks he is better than everyone else just makes your blood boil. You’re a drug dealer - selling drugs to those rich dumb kids, trying to earn some money. Who would’ve thought this would be a love story?

Warnings: cursing, after effects of drugs, mentions of Drugs, drug abuse

-g3z0

I never felt more worse than now in my life.

I know that MDMA has some bad after effects but I didn’t think they would be that bad.

I didn’t even want to take it. Max just mixed it in my drink.

But that’s what he does - what everyone his kind does.

They can’t accept a no. They never heard it once in their life. And even if someone tells them no, they just take what they want because that’s how their life works.

That’s how it always works. Just because their daddy has money, they are above everyone else.

I sigh to myself as I try to focus on what the teacher is talking about.

It’s hard - I can’t even think straight.

I feel so depressed and unmotivated. I just want to rot in my fucking bed.

„Y/n“ I hear max whisper to me from the seat behind me.

I close my eyes for a second and clench my jaw.

I‘ve been ignoring him. He went too far. But of course I can’t fucking tell him that because he wouldn’t even understand.

He thinks he’s not to blame. Like always.

„Hey.“ he whispers again and I feel my chair being kicked.

I ball my hands into fists and stare right forward. Don’t react, just don’t fucking react.

„Y/n, hey!“ max whispers more loudly this time and the teachers head shoots up to us.

„If you want to distract the class you can do it outside, y/n.“ the teacher says as he stares at me.

I run my tongue over my teeth as I reach for my backpack, shaking my head.

I grab it and stand up, walking out of the class without saying a word.

I take a deep breathe, trying to calm down.

I walk outside of the school building, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

I take a long drag, leaning my back against the wall as I stare on the ground.

I hate everything.

I hear the door being pushed open „y/n.“ max says.

He can’t even give me one fucking minute.

I see his shoes in front of me but I don’t look up.

If I see his face right now I might loose it.

„What’s wrong with you?“ he says and I can feel his eyes burning a hole into my head.

I close my eyes and take another drag.

Calm down.

„Are you fucking deaf?“ he laughs. I grip the cigarette harder against my fingers.

I finally look up to meet his gaze. His smile fades as he sees my expression.

He sighs „y/n-" he starts while shaking his head.

„Don’t.“ I say through gritted teeth.

He licks his lips and stares at me for a second before he looks to the side. He takes a deep breathe and shrugs with his shoulders „look- I-"

He shakes his head and looks back at me „I just wanted to make you feel better.“ he mumbles.

He can’t be fucking serious.

„I mean it worked, didn’t it?“ he chuckles as he stares at me.

I clench my jaw and look back down on my shoes.

He doesn’t even know what he did wrong.

„Come on, don’t be like that.“ he continues as he lays a hand on my shoulder.

I slap his hand away and look back up at him. „leave it, max.“ I spat as I push myself off the wall.

I take a step closer to him, glaring down at him. „Okay? Fucking leave it. I’m done with this shit.“ I mumble as I walk past him.

„Y/n!“ he yells after me but I just shake my head, walking down the stairs from the school property.

„Come on, you just can’t stop selling!“

I take another drag from my cigarette.

„Im gonna snitch.“

I stop my movements, turning around to him. „What did you just say?“

He swallows and stares down at me as he stands on top of the steps.

He shake his head and sighs „y/n, I’m your friend. I’m just thinking about your well being.“

I let out a laugh, flicking my cigarette away and walking back up the steps.

He takes a step back as he stares at me „y/n-"

„My friend, huh?“ I say as I stand directly in front of him, staring down at him.

He sighs and looks to the side and I push his shoulders back, making him stumble, causing him to look back at me.

„You’re not my fucking friend, max.“ I spat shaking my head „you don’t care about me, you only care about your fucking reputation.“

He stares at me while he shake his head „that’s not true.“

I laugh into his face „you only hang out with me because you have a advantage of it. Because of my fucking drugs.“

He just continues to stare at me.

„Why would someone like you hang out with someone like me?“ I mumble as I lift my hand, running through my hair, causing him to flinch.

I stare at him in disbelief.

„You‘re scared..“ I whisper as I shake my head, taking a step back.

He rolls his eyes and sighs „y/n-"

„Go on, fucking snitch on me. I‘ve got nothing to loose.“ I laugh „But don't think I'm gonna continue to be your fucking running buddy“

I turn around again and walk down the stairs, taking a deep breathe.

Im so dumb for thinking he’s actually my friend.

He never was. People like him aren’t friends with people like me.

We don’t stand on the same page. He has his whole future planned out for him. He has a fucking chance in life.

I don’t. And I need to accept that.

I lay down in my bed, staring at the ceiling while taking a long drag from my joint.

My phone buzzes and I sigh, as it lights up my dark room.

I grab my phone, squeezing my eyes at the sudden brightness.

I lick my lips and answer the phone, pressing it against my ear.

„Y/n?“ nick says on the other line, wich gives my body goose bumps.

I sigh, closing my eyes „what do you want..“ I mumble as I rub my eye with my finger.

„You got any coke? Weed?“ he asks.

I smile to myself. Of course he’s only calling because of that reason.

„Im not selling anymore, bye.“ I say as I pull my phone back, wanting to hang up.

„No, wait!“ I hear him yell through the phone.

I roll my eyes and bring it back to my ear. „What?“

He’s silent for a few seconds and then he lets out a sigh „please y/n.. I know you have something I-" he stops when his voice breaks.

I stare at my ceiling with a frown.

„Please..“ he mumbles and his voice almost sounds desperate.

I sigh, running through my hair.

How I hate him.

„I have weed.“ I mumble, sitting up in my bed.

„Yeah?“ he asks.

I nod my head „yeah..“

„Okay, uhm.. where can we mee-"

„Im not going anywhere. You want it. You come here. And that’s the last fucking time.“ I say before taking another drag from my joint.

He sighs „okay.. yeah- yeah, I’m coming..“

„Alright.“ I say.

„Y/n?“

„What?“

He’s doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

„Where do you live again?“

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #nick sturniolo x you

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lyrakanefanatic · 8 months

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I just realised that literally everybody in the inheritance games series is traumatized in some way ☹️☹️

nash: had to watch his mother neglect him and then continue giving away his brothers while he couldn’t do anything about it

jameson: his mother neglected him, he was manipulated by his grandfather to make him think that he was nothing, and the whole Emily situation

grayson: neglected by his mother, had to carry the weight of the heir apparent, was forced to be perfect and not show any emotion, the whole Emily situation and just so much more

Xander: again, his mom neglected him, and he was lied to about his father from Tobias

Avery: her mother died when she was 15, she was nearly killed like 3 times, she had to carry the weight of being the heiress, was used as a target by Tobias, and a lot more

Libby: was in a mentally and physically abusive situation, was stressed out a lot when Avery was written in the will but didn’t wanna worry her, was constantly at the blame of all her relationships, and gets used because she’s “too nice”

Max: was disowned by her parents and not even allowed to talk to her own brother, had no one to talk to about it because Avery was written in the will so she was completely alone, and didn’t want to burden Avery with all the stress she had because she was already in the will and everything, and since Avery was maxs only friend she had no one else to talk to about it. (I kind of repeated some stuff but whatever u know what I mean 🙄)

Rebecca: Was living in her sisters shadow, never really felt like she had her mothers love, was constantly overlooked by her mother, was never allowed to date the one person she loved because she was afraid Emily would find out, and was blamed for Emily death by her mother (🙁)

Thea: Her best friend died, was forced to fake date a guy because she thought Emily would disapprove of her real relationship, and all her concerns about the Hawthorne family were overlooked as she was forced to spend time with them when they were the only ones with her best friend the night she died (ik Grayson and Jameson didnt kill Emily, but she literally told everybody how much she hated the hawthornes bc of “what they did” and was completely overlooked)

Eve: Okay I know everybody hates eve, but you can’t say she wasn’t traumatized. She was forced to have ugly haircuts and was forgotten just because she looked like the guy her mom had an affair with. Her existence ruined her family as her mom and dad fell apart because of the affair that her mom had, and she was ignored by her entire family but the second that Avery gets written in the will, THEN her half siblings decide that they want to contact her. She was used, just like Avery. Yes, she was a bad person, but she was alone her whole life and so when Vincent Blake was introduced, ofc she wanted to work for him, he was the only one who had ever shown her praise or even acknowledged her her whole life, and since she didn’t have any attention as a kid, of course she wants it now. She wanted to constantly be the best and do as he says because he didn’t want to let him down like she let down her family (just for existing, by the way.) so she did all these horrible things because she was afraid if she messed up, every ounce of attention she had gotten from Vincent would have been wiped away, and she would be alone again. Eve is actually a very layered character, but I feel like people dismiss that bc she hurt Grayson. And yeah what she did to him was horrible but nobody tries to see both sides bc people fangirl for him too much 🙄 (not hating, I do the same thing 🤭)

#am I a eve defender now?? 🫢#I’ll never be a Emily defender though that bitch was a devils spawn #the inheritance games #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu #rebecca laughlin #thea calligaris #eve laughlin

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surr3al1sm · 3 days

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Just Dance Highscores I’m proud of

I don’t really talk about playing Just Dance on here because I play it a lot and don’t want to bother you guys with it every time but I just wanted to highlight some of the scores I’m proud of. All will be below the cut to not clog up your dash.

Disclaimer: Now I know that they probably aren’t the highest scores (or the hardest maps) you’ve ever seen BUT I still get to be proud of them (plus I have a coordination disorder so take that).

With that being said feel free to reblog and flex your scores on me. I wish to know them.

List time! Yippie!

🩷 The mega stars (aka the dances I dance to way too much) 🩷

⚡️Girlfriend - 13078 - The first song I 13k’d and still one of my favourite maps

⚡️Treasure - 12904 - I used to be really bad at Treasure compared to LooH, but they kind of flipped one day lol

While we’re on the topic

⚡️Locked out of Heaven - 12681 - The first map I actually took the time to learn the choreo for. Just need to figure out the tracking ig-

⚡️10.000 Luchtballonnen - 12810 - A dutch (Belgian technically) song. Probably the best K3 song on + and maybe even on unlimited.

⚡️Judas - 12699 - Come on, it’s Judas. Can you blame me for being proud.

⚡️Rasputin - 12699 - This is just what my (lack of) rizz has come to. Also may I refer back to the coordination disorder.

⚡️Levitating - 12566 - Si’Ha Nova my beloved 🫶

⚡��Can’t Tame Her - 12536 - LittleSiha, need I say more

⚡️Beggin’ - 12498 - I started out with consistently 3 starring this song and here we are now. Improvements people.

⚡️Disco Inferno - 12275 - I don’t care that its an easy difficulty: I have played this song exactly once. Let me be proud of my beginners luck.

🩵 The super stars (aka maps I am learning or am just mid at) 🩵

⚡️Therefore I Am - 11832 - This map takes a lot of coordination and balance that I do not have.

⚡️Physical - 11733 - As someone who was not active what so ever at the beginning of the year, being this decent at a map like this one is just pretty rewarding

⚡️Canned Heat - 11728 - It’s a Wanderlust song what can I say, we don’t mix well-

⚡️Dark Horse - 11344 - My friend had JD2015 growing up and the most I could get was 4 stars max when I used to play with her so this just heals my inner child.

⚡️Applause/Stage Version - 11307 - It’s an extreme. I am no where near properly touching extremes (like actually consistently doing them). Let me be proud.

⚡️Wannabe/Extreme Version - 11459 - Scored this while dancing against my Kpop friend. She knows the official choreo by heart.

⭐️ The 5 Stars (Songs I do every now and then and choreo’s I live laugh love without being good at them) ⭐️

⚡️Rock ‘n Roll - 10877 - I don’t know if it’s just me or if the tracking on this is just wierd but it’s the highest score I’ve gotten so far so I’m just gonna roll with it lol

⚡️Buttons - 10672 - This map is just difficult for me- idk why-

⚡️Bad Romance/official Choreo - 10521 - Slowly trying my best to learn this one. It’s hard.

⚡️Gimme More - 10421 - Agend D is probably one of my favourite coaches in the game but ngl this is one of the harder mediums imo.

⚡️Can’t Stop The Feeling/Danceverses Prince - 10051 - That I have beef with the smurfs choreo’s doesnt mean I can’t enjoy them and be proud of my scores. He’s just very fast okay-

Sorry for the long post again. It’s just a post I wanted to make for myself. Could I just have noted them down for myself? I already have. Sometimes you just wanna share stuff with the world okay? Before anyone says it 🤫 I know these aren’t the hardest maps out there. That doesn’t matter.

Again, feel free to reblog and flex your own scores. I love seeing people be proud of themselves for accomplishments!

#with a lot I mean that I play it for 2-3 hrs 3 - 4 days of the week lol #i have an addiction #i am aware #jd #just dance #just dance scores #just dance 2024 #just dance 2023 edition #just dance fandom

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astrobei · 1 year

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prompt from @strangeswift: "literally anything madwheeler. them bonding, them in the future being besties, them arguing... whatever you want. just them."

It might only be her first week of high school, but Max is already so over it.

It meaning everything. The cramped desks, the giant textbooks, the smell of the locker rooms after third period gym. The way that there had been some plausible deniability, in middle school, about the inherent repulsiveness of teenage boys– and now any minute trace of that is gone, because holy fucking shit, it’s like all of a sudden, deodorant has just totally ceased to exist.

Which isn’t great for someone like Max, by the way, who stands a glorious five-foot-three– also known as the perfect armpit height for the average pubescent boy.

Yeah. She’s so over it.

If walking the hallways hadn’t been abhorrent enough because of this and this alone– which it is, mind you, it’s plenty bad enough– there’s everything else. Everything else meaning the looks. The stares and the glances and the whispers following her as she walks from first period English to second period Geometry, trying her hardest to not get violently lost in the hallways like a total freshman. It’s embarrassing enough being a freshman, right, because you don’t know where your classes are and you have to run to the cafeteria to get a good seat and you’re not completely jaded yet, so people can one hundred percent tell that you’re new.

Max is used to being the new girl. She’s used to holding her head high and marching down the hall like she knows the school like the back of her hand, when in reality, she’d never stepped foot in it before that morning. So the being a freshman thing is a certain kind of clumsy spotlight that she doesn’t mind.

What she does mind, however, is the dead brother thing.

Stepbrother, technically. As if that makes it any better, the way that her mom won’t look at her and suddenly there’s beer in the fridge where her mom never used to keep any before. If that makes the pitying glances and whispers as she passes by any better. As if that takes away from any of it.

She knows what the girls, especially, are thinking. So few casualties at Starcourt, and Billy Hargrove– the cool new boy from California, the one with the cool car and the charm and the hair and the lifeguard job at the pool– Billy Hargrove had to be the one to die.

Max supposes she can’t really blame them either. It’s easy to get caught up in someone from afar. Easy enough to get too caught up on the ridiculous amounts of body oil and the gross open front shirts and the hair they spend hours on every day to really see the small stuff.

Like how they’re an asshole, maybe. An asshole who caked the whole house up with the stench of cigarette smoke and stale beers and sweat. An asshole who liked to push people down to lift himself up. An asshole who bullied little kids just to make himself big again, who–

The girls didn’t see any of that, of course. Max is happy for them, despite the glares and the whispers and the pity. No one deserves to see that. Let them remember Billy as a hero. The king of Hawkins High.

Don't speak ill of the dead, et cetera. It's fine. This is a secret she can shoulder on her own.

Max swings the locker door open, shoving her Geometry textbook into her bag with a soft grunt. Another reason to hate high school– or maybe love it– is that she’s going to get so scary jacked by the end of the year.

“You’re not going to tryouts today?”

The voice behind her makes her jump, even though the hallway is just as crowded and cacophonous as it always is. Mike Wheeler is looming over her, one hand clutching tight at the strap of his backpack, looking, for all intents and purposes, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Max frowns. “Tryouts?”

“Lucas has tryouts today,” Mike explains, slow and condescending like he’s trying to explain long division to a toddler. “Remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Max says immediately, which definitely makes her sound guilty of not remembering. But she had remembered. Of course she had remembered. It was all Lucas talked about for the last month. Basketball tryouts for the high school team. He’d said high school team like it was the big leagues that were personally recruiting him, as if he weren’t going out for JV.

“Right,” Mike says. Predictably, he doesn’t sound like he believes her. “You’re really not going?”

Max bristles. “What’s it to you?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike huffs, “and I’ve had to listen to him mope all week about you being too busy to see him at tryouts.”

“Yeah, so?” Max leans down to zip her backpack closed, the zipper catching momentarily on a stray notebook corner. She heaves it onto her shoulder and tries to pretend like it’s not as heavy as it is. Jesus H. Christ. “I can’t help being busy, Wheeler.”

“You’re not busy.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“Because you don’t do anything,” Mike scowls, falling into easy step beside her as she speeds down the hallway to class. The bell is going to ring any moment and– damn it.

She’s definitely lost.

Whatever, it’s fine. Geometry is, uh. It’s here somewhere. She just has to get Wheeler off her trail and then she’ll be free to be lost and confused in peace. Do not engage, she thinks. He’ll never shut up if you engage.

“You– I do things,” Max protests, despite herself. “I– I have homework.”

“Bullshit,” Mike scowls some more. He’s been scowling a lot lately, ever since summer ended. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out why. El isn’t talking to him and the For Sale sign in front of the Byers’ just got taken down and replaced with an obnoxiously happy Sold! sign, and now Mike Wheeler’s got a dark little cloud of rain and gloom following him around like a lost little puppy. “It’s the first week of ninth grade. We have no homework.”

Max grits her teeth. “What do you want me to say? You want me to get down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness? I’m allowed to be busy, okay, Mike, I don’t owe Lucas anything, we’re not dating anymore–”

“Yeah but you’re still his friend!” Mike exclaims, throwing his hands up and nearly smacking someone walking towards them in the face. The boy scowls. Mike ignores him.

Max looks away. Was it a right down this hallway or a left? Whatever. She goes right.

“Whatever,” she says. “Of course we’re friends.”

“Friends show up.” Mike jabs her in the shoulder with one finger, and she bats his hand away. “Friends show up. You know he’ll be so sad if you don’t–”

“Yeah?” Max spins around to face him, and jabs him in the chest with one finger, just for good measure. Mike makes an offended noise and rubs at the spot with his other hand. Not so nice, is it? “Yeah? Well if friends show up, when was the last time you went to Will’s?”

Mike blanches. “That’s– different,” he gets out. Max feels a guilty rush of satisfaction at his expression, at striking a nerve. Not so nice, is it?

“Friends show up,” she parrots gleefully. “But I know you’ve been avoiding him, so why can’t I avoid–”

“Me and Will aren’t you and Lucas,” Mike splutters, face going from a ghostly sort of white to a splotchy red all in the span of one and a half seconds. “Me and Will aren’t–”

Max waits, raising an eyebrow. “You and Will aren’t what?”

Mike ignores her. “Don’t turn this around on me,” he says. “This isn’t about me.”

“Feels an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black, Wheeler,” Max says anyway. “What is this? Some sort of intervention? Did Lucas put you up to this?”

“No way. He doesn’t know.”

Max lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide her frustration. “Then why do you care? Why can’t you just screw off?”

“Because Lucas is my friend,” Mike presses. The scowl on his face has given way to a stubborn, almost-pleading look. “And you know how much this means to him, and–”

“Well, tough shit, okay?” Max snaps, and Mike’s mouth falls blessedly shut. “I can’t do this right now. I have to go to class and– you can stop following me now, by the way. I don’t need another stalker.”

Mike’s upper lip twitches. “We have second period Geometry together, asshole,” he says, yet somehow not unkindly. “I literally sit next to you.”

Oh. Maybe he does. Max feels a little bad for not noticing, but she hasn’t been noticing a lot of things lately. She’s spent most of the first week focused on drawing as little attention to herself as possible. Getting in and out of class as soon as she can. Running home before anyone can corner her and– God forbid– rope her into hanging out or whatever.

And see, that’s the thing, is that a different version of herself– months ago, when things were good and simple and fun and wonderfully uncomplicated– would have gone. Of course she would have gone. She can’t remember the last time she had friends like this. Definitely not back in California, definitely not right before the move. The summer had been some of the best weeks of her life. Before the– you know, before the shit had totally hit the fan and Billy died and Hop died and El was moving away and she and Lucas broke up. Again.

They’d broken up before too, and they’d always gotten back together, but it seemed like a finality this time. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could make up to her with jewelry and teddy bears and chocolate from Melvald’s with the price sticker scratched off (and Mrs. Byers’ employee discount no doubt utilized).

It was different this time because he didn’t need to make things up to her. Because it wasn’t his fault, and she wasn’t dumping his ass because he’d been immature and loud and thoughtless in typical thirteen-year-old fashion.

He’d been the opposite, actually.

She turns away from Mike before he can see her face.

Lucas had been so composed about it, so mature. He hadn’t rolled his eyes or scoffed or been frustrated when she’d said it. He’d been– quiet. Sad. Accepting. If that’s what you want, he’d said, and she’d nodded quietly before stepping off the bleachers and walking away.

It was what she wanted, because it was easier this way, but something still made her frustrated and keyed up at the way he’d said it. Quiet and sad and without a fuss.

More than anything, Max wants it to be April again, when things were simple. When he’d win her back and deep down she’d be secretly pleased that he hadn’t gotten tired of this inane push and pull. That he wanted her enough to spend his allowance on that teddy bear or those roses. She’d never really been mad at him. That’s just who she was– someone who pushed and pulled on the slightest of whims. Someone who dragged everyone else along with her, just because she could.

“Max?” Mike prompts. “The bell’s going to ring, and we’re in the wrong wing, so–”

The scowl has disappeared from his face a bit. He looks strangely contemplative.

Not angry. Not pitying. Just– looking.

Max takes in a deep breath and crosses her arms. “And you didn’t tell me this before?”

“You were all– all angry and stomping around and– it didn’t seem like the time!”

“Like you’ve ever cared,” she huffs, then spins on her heel and sets off in the opposite direction.

“No, Max– go left.”

“Oh. I knew that.”

She didn’t know that of course, but it’s not like she’s going to say this out loud. Mike catches up to her in three long strides, his bag bouncing obnoxiously against his back. “So?” he prompts, and Max wants to slam her head into the wall and yell. “Are you going?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insanely persistent? Like annoyingly so?”

Mike grins. “I consider it one of my better qualities.”

“You remind me of poison ivy,” Max grumbles, as they turn the corner into the east wing. The bell rings sharply, the sound shrill and tinny through the hall, and she startles. “Oh shit–”

“So you’ll come, right?” Apparently Mike Wheeler doesn’t care about racking up tardies in his first week here. It’s not like Max does either, but she does like to hold the moral high ground.

She shakes her head, almost smiling despite herself. “Why do you want me to so bad?”

“It’s important to Lucas,” Mike insists, “and he’ll want you there. I don’t know how many more times I can say the same damn thing.”

“I don’t think Lucas wants to see me, Mike. I broke up with him, remember?”

At this, Mike stops abruptly, right in the middle of the hallway. Max collides roughly with his shoulder with a shocked gasp.

“Hey! What’s your deal?”

Mike grabs her shoulders, frustrated. “It’s because we– I’ll kill you if you repeat this to anyone, Max, I swear– but we miss you, okay? All of us. We miss you. It’s not that complicated, seriously.”

We miss you.

If she’s being honest, Max hadn’t been aware that there was anything to miss. She visited El, sometimes, after school when the trailer park got dark and lonely and way too quiet. It wasn’t the same as before, though. Things were heavier, sadder. Too many things unspoken, hanging in the air.

El lived with the Byers now, and sometimes Will would be there too. There was something heavier and sadder about him too, but Max couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But surely there was nothing to miss in her absence. The four of them did just fine before she came along– Lucas and Dustin and Mike and–

She glances down at his hands on her shoulders, and gets a brief flash of phantom pain– hands gripping her wrists, too tight, angry. Being pushed against walls, wrestled and manhandled and shoved into the car. Road rage.

So much anger. God, there was so much anger.

She was tired of the anger, but now she doesn’t know what to do without it. Maybe that means there’s something wrong with her. Normal people don’t think like this.

She pulls away sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

Worry flashes across Mike’s face, a split second and then it’s gone. His hands fall limply to his sides. “I– sorry.”

Max feels bad. Really, she does. She wants to go. Really, she does. She wants to laugh and tease Lucas as he misses free throw after free throw, and then congratulate him when he inevitably makes the team anyway, because of course he will. He's a shoo-in, and she wants to run down to the gym after school and shake the nerves out of him and tell him that. She wants to go.

She wants–

Mostly, though, she just wants to be left the hell alone.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Mike’s face falls, ever-so-slightly. The guilt swells up inside her and she looks down at her shoes. They’re getting even more late with every second she waits here, unmoving, and yet– “I really can’t.”

Mike doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he sighs, and reaches for the handle of the door to the classroom, pausing for a moment before opening it. “Next time?”

It’s weirdly hopeful. Max swallows the guilt back down. “Next time,” she lies, and follows him inside.

#i can't believe i've never written madwheeler before #this got sadder than anticipated #sorry abby #i hope this still scratches that itch #i have a max character study brewing in my mind so this is like. dipping my toes #testing the waters #god i love them #two sides of the same coin for real #fun sized fics #madwheeler #mike wheeler #max mayfield #ficlet #alexa play midnight rain #fic

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arabaka · 1 year

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ (AGED UP) denji x fem! reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ read but no sex actually takes place. you and denji drink. references to breasts, genitalia, but again, no actual, full-fledged smut. WORD COUNT: 1.6k PSD CREDIT !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI or i will smite thee. *₊˚💬୧ i swear this started out with smut on the brain but you know how these things can get a mind of their own :3c part 2 maybe?

You were never one for pets. Could barely remember to feed yourself on bad days and your job isn’t exactly cushy but this new one you picked up is low-maintenance enough to make it work. He’s not bad to look at either, you think to yourself as you watch him saunter to the fridge to fetch you that bottle of soju you’ve been holding onto. He takes direction well enough, eager to please most times. Poke him too much and he cops an attitude but it’s cute, in his own little Denji way.

You two sort of just fell into this routine. He comes around to your apartment after sending you five text messages too many and because you have such a heart for strays, you let him in each time. You don’t know how to punctuate your relationship or if you even want to. He’s immature and runs his mouth at max volume at all times but you’re able to shut him up pretty fast and it just so happens that he has a gift. A knack for making you feel good.

“So what we’re going to do is,” You fill up two small glasses with far too much liquid courage and without skipping a beat you continue, “play a racing game but you have to finish your drink before the third lap ends. But!” You punctuate the caveat with a finger pointed at him, “You can’t drink and drive and you can only start drinking when the race starts. Got it?”

“Okay,” Denji agrees but he has his own condition, “Loser has to strip.” He hasn’t even started drinking but his smile is a little twisted, showing ever so slightly his pointed teeth. He holds his glass up, waiting for you to seal the deal with a toast and you oblige with a similar smirk painted on your features. So sweet, you muse, he thinks he can beat me.

He never had a chance. You didn’t have any dirty tricks up your sleeve; you didn’t need to. You know your liquor and the game more than Denji and it showed. He’d be flustered with every sip, feeling especially rushed when he’d see your cart whiz by him and it certainly didn’t help that you would laugh each time and you know how he feels about your laugh. He’s told you as much, unprompted one night as he rested his head on your lap. He can’t remember what he said to make you giggle so much but it came almost natural for him to tell you, “Your laugh’s nice.” Since then, he’s paid special attention to what comes after you laugh. The way your nose crinkles, how you smile with your eyes until your laughter finally dies out. So can you blame him for stalling an extra second or so just so he can secure a glimpse at how pretty you look when you laugh?

Only now you look a teensy bit malicious, snickering at him once victory’s been secured. It’s no big deal, he thinks. What’s one loss? It’s nothing you’ve never seen before anyways so off his shirt goes, tossed over the couch. He has to admit though, it’s still intimidating to be the object of your attention when you look as good as you do. He’d also prefer it if you were the one being exposed. Then he could see what bra you were wearing. Would it be one he’s seen before? Would it be something new? He’s getting carried away, imagining the fat of your breasts perfectly framed by the cups. He’s red and hot in the face and he hasn’t even gotten to picturing your nipples yet. He doesn’t get to though, not when you’re waving the controller in his face demanding a rematch.

“Bet’cha I can get you down to your underwear without losing.” You tease him with your tongue poking out but he’d rather be kissing you than playing another round. You’re insistent though and no amount of his persistence can beat you when you’ve made up your mind. So a second match is played. He fares a little better, having mastered the art of drifting half way through the second lap. It’s not enough though and you’re already down two drinks, two wins, and he’s just plain down to his underwear. You’re ruthless, telling him that socks don’t count and they go along with his pants.

He doesn’t think you’re playing fair at this point but he can’t decide if you’re doing it on purpose or just too tipsy. “What’s even the point of this if I don’t get to see you naked?” He’s huffing like a brat, red in the face from drinking and being the sole loser between the two of you. He doesn’t even want to play another match at this point. Lucky for him, neither do you.

“Ahhh, Denji!” You steal his portion of the drink faster than he can react. The soju goes smooth down your throat, leaving that heat you love so much to bloom in the pit of your stomach. You lean in close, close enough that Denji can see the shine of alcohol on your lips and a little on your chin. You bump noses as you start to slowly crawl onto him, your bottom settling on his lap as you dock both your legs on the sides of his. You can see his eyes dance, the nerves getting to them already as you roll your hips and thus, your clit grinds against the pitched tent in his boxers. You whine and he swallows up your meek noise like it’s the only thing he’s had to eat this week. Your spit tastes like alcohol with a hint of lychee but he drinks you up like water. You break the kiss, a bridge of saliva between your lips coming undone just as quick as it came and you slur, “‘Yer always thinkin’ about you, you, you! What about what I want, huh?” You grip his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, squishing them together a little rougher than intended as you gripe, “I wanted to see you naked. I won so I get the prize.”

The logic is sound but you are not. It feels off, kissing you like this when you can hardly keep your back straight. The last gulp of soju must have really pushed you over the edge. He’s seen you drunk, but not like this. Not with your hair out of place, cascading in a frame around your face with your lips parted and pouted when he hesitates on kissing you back. You’re almost irresistible, the way you drag your clothed cunt against his erection with a rhythm he can only imagine fucking you to… But not like this.

“H-Hey.” He struggles to find his voice, not just because he’s a little tipsy himself but because he’s going to possibly make you unhappy, “Can we…” He clears his throat, “Can we stop?” Denji’s body shudders, his cock twitching in disapproval as his hands clamp down on your waist in a feeble attempt at stopping your addictive gyrations. Every time you grind down on him, he loses a bit of his resolve but not enough to fold.

You balk, head rolling forward and you poke at his chest, annoyingly so. “Whaat? You want to stop? You’re not Denji!” He mimics your expression, loudly arguing back, “I am! I just don’t want this!” His outburst freezes you in place, stunting your breathing as you weakly ball up his shirt in your hands. He doesn’t want to? Really? Shame unleashes a wave of unsettling heat throughout your whole body, your skin getting clammy as you look anywhere but his eyes. “Is it ‘coz I’m drunk?”

It’s hard to see you like this. You look so downcast, head pointed down with your hair shielding the majority of your embarrassment from him but he doesn’t need to see it to know you feel bad. Seconds of silence pass between the two of you but it agonizingly feels a lot longer. Denji hates this. “Yeah.” He finally grumbles, “It’s not gonna be any fun if you’re gonna end up pukin’ all over me.” That’s not the real reason and somehow, in your drunken stupor, you know this. He doesn’t want the first time he’s ever had sex, more importantly his first time with you, to be clouded with an alcohol-induced haze. He wants to remember everything, for you to remember everything. For you to decide that you want to have sex with him- no stipulations, no excuses.

“‘Kay.” You finally say, in a bit of a departure from your downtrodden tone of voice from before. You shuffle off him, pull the bra string that was hanging loosely by your shoulders and finagle with your hair awkwardly. “Sorry.” You try to keep your apology above a whisper, loud enough so he can hear but the shame muffles your volume a tad bit. Now you just want to sleep this moment off, forget about this weird tension in the room and try again another day.

Denji’s head pops through the collar of his shirt and with his hands finally freed, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you once to get you to look at him. “I still want to do it though!” He looks so serious when he says it, it makes you laugh. First it’s a series of snickers but then it quickly evolves into full on laughter. Tear prickle the corners of your eyes until there’s nothing left but surprised delight glossing your vision. “Okay, okay. Deal.”

You yawn and then he follows suit. The room is no longer heavy with awkward discomfort, Denji’s made sure of that. “I think I just wanna sleep now.” You mumble. “You wanna join? No funny business.” He nods overzealously. “Good boy.” You coo, petting his hair gently. He won’t have you tonight but he can hold you and that’s more than enough.

#denji x you #denji x reader #denji #csm #chainsaw man #csm x reader #csm x you #denji hayakawa #x reader #x f reader #x fem!reader #denji/reader #denji/you #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 🍰 ɞ ₊˚. ꒰ a little treat for denji. ꒱

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boldlyvoid · 2 years

Text

Dear Eddie Part Two: Question?

Summary: after coming back from "the dead" Eddie adjusts to life as a dad

Warnings: slight smut, mentions of Eddie's quarantine trauma, scars, baby making, pregnancy tests, dad!Eddie

Word Count: 4.6k

Part 1 | Part Two | Part Three coming soon

Trying to tell their friends that Eddie was alive and back and just in hiding under the sheriffs recommendation was hard… they had more questions than anyone expected and Eddie does his best to beat around the bush and save face. Gareth doesn’t drop it for about a month, Dustin convinces Jeff early on and the new, younger members of hellfire who’ve heard so much about him over the years are just happy to meet him.

However, just as soon as they got him back, Eddie was telling them about his thoughts on moving out of Hawkins. He didn’t feel that safe here anymore, he’s already gotten a few looks and it didn’t matter that Police Chief Powell did a conference about his charges being dropped… the story changed a third time and it became town knowledge that he was a victim that also survived, much like Max Mayfield, it just took a while for him to heal.

Most people believed it, his new look really helped, too, he seemed like just a normal guy and people didn’t immediately recognize him… he still wanted to move.

It wasn’t just about him anymore, however, he had a son and a girlfriend with lives and friends and a whole support system they depended on in his absence. He couldn’t tear them away from that just so that he felt un-judged.

The weirdest part of Y/N’s life without him was how she shared a bedroom with Wayne… for 2 years the two of them had twin beds side by side, seeing as she slept all night while he was at work and then he slept all day while she was either at work or with the baby… it was how they lived in the tiny trailer all together and they loved it. He just thought it was a little weird and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the tiniest bit jealous.

He wasn’t around for 2 years, Wayne’s not a bad-looking dude… Eddie’s heard him bring ladies home before, he knows he’s a good man, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ever got with him or wanted to while he wasn’t there… and he can’t say he blames her. If she needed some loving while he was away, who is he to tell her what was wrong? She deserved to always be loved.

He’s only been home a week, Jamie is asleep in the next room, they just finished cleaning up from the day and made their way back into the main bedroom and his mind couldn’t stop wondering when he sees the beds together yet again.

So he asks. “Did you sleep with Wayne?”

“Ew, oh my god?” She feels disgusted, trying to keep her voice down. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Your beds are pushed together?” He points at the two twins side by side.

“It’s a tiny room? We have separate blankets and schedules, we’ve never slept in here at the same time,” she confirms. “I would never fuck your uncle?”

“Okay,” he whispers, telling her to keep her voice down with just his eyes, “I’m sorry… I just, I didn’t expect you to know the truth about me being away and I always thought you’d move on from—

“You’re an idiot,” she doesn’t sugar coat it. “Buddy, I’ve been so in love with you this whole time I couldn’t sleep with anyone else if you paid me. I was devastated without you, it sent me into labour thinking you were dead. No one, nothing, not even my own two hands have touched me down there in your absence.”

His brows raise and his eyes grow impossibly wide, “seriously?”

She nods, eyes rolling with a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda don’t have the time or the interest, honestly. I mean… I didn’t…” she walks over to him carefully, hand on his chest as she looks up into his eyes, “you wanna make use of these beds being pushed together?”

“Oh, please?” He swoons, “I’ve wanted you every day for so long… I honestly don’t know a day where I didn’t want you.”

“What if…” she presses her lips together, searching for the words to say but they don’t follow. “Never mind. It’s crazy.”

“No, tell me?” He begs, brushing her hair back and cupping her face.

“What if we had another baby? What if you could be here for it this time and we can get that house you’ve been talking about, but we just go a bit north, not too far out of Hawkins, just closer to the boys while they’re in college?” She references his friends, who were now more her friends than anything.

“Yeah,” he’s on board right away. “I mean, I don’t know if it’ll work… I’ve been through a lot, but we can try?”

“What do you mean?”

“They did a million and one tests on me when I came back up to the real world,” he whispers. “I don’t know what that did to my swimmers…”

“Oh,” her face drops. “What kind of tests? Were you sick? Were they just scared you were exposed to something?”

“You haven’t seen it yet,” he whispers. “You don’t know how bad it was and I’m afraid to show you.”

“Show me,” it’s more of an order than a request. “What did they do to you?”

He steps back and raises his palms towards her, “be forewarned, it wasn’t the doctors. You know what Dustin told you about the upside down? It’s like Hawkins but dark and gross and awful and there are monsters down there… these horrific bat things swarmed me, they attacked me, they tried to eat me but it all worked like a hive mind so as soon as Nancy damaged the puppet master, they all died. And then I almost did.”

She stares at him like he has two heads, looking at all his already exposed skin— his neck, arms and face were all unharmed… “what did they do?”

He peels his shirt off carefully, the original wounds and skin graft surgery scars had healed a long time ago, “I’m thinking about tattooing a new nipple on,” he tries to make it funny. But it’s not. She doesn’t find it funny in the slightest. “I hate that they bit off my favourite nip.”

“Why didn’t they take Steve too?” She asks first over everything. “He was bit too, he told me about it. Dustin told me how you lost so much blood in his arms he couldn’t find a pulse that’s the only reason they left you down there but Steve must’ve been infected too if he was bit the way he described, why didn’t he get taken by the scientists?”

“It took them 3 days to come back for me,” he explains, revealing the harsh truth no one else clued her in on. She thought he was just down there for a few hours, she thought they brought him up and he was taken to the hospital right away…

“I was exposed to so much, like Will, and I had no one to negotiate the terms while I was unconscious unlike how he had his mom. And the lab. If I could’ve stayed here and just gone to the lab every few days for checkups I would’ve preferred that.”

“We all would’ve,” she feels angry. Like so much more than just time was stolen from them.

“I’m back now, though… and I would like to try if you still want to?”

“For another baby?” She softens right up. “Really?”

He nods, “I knew on my way to your last address that I wanted to pick up where we left off, I wanted to marry you and have babies with you in a town we’ve never been to before… but I think staying here and expanding the family we already have before getting married is still good.”

“Me too,” she steps back into his space and wraps her arms around his neck, chest to chest, “thats not me say yes either, big guy. You’ve still gotta ask.”

“I will,” he smiles, hands at her waist slowly making their way down to her hips. “Later,” and then her ass where he pulls her in tighter. “Sex hasn’t changed at all in the last 3 years, right?

She laughs, “as if I know? If I remember correctly, even without any experience you were still wonderful… I can just imagine what 2 years of thinking about me does.”

“Oh the thoughts I’ve had,” he picks her up and turns them towards the bed, tossing her down on the mattress as the two of them scramble to get up to the pillows before grabbing at each other again. She holds his face in her hands as he lunges for her lips, kissing her with so much passion and want.

Her hands wander down his neck, over his shoulders where his skin is so impossibly warm still. She lets her hands explore his skin, the new textures are interesting, but he’s still the same underneath it all.

She breaks the kiss to look at his chest, staring between them as she runs her fingers over the scar tissue, “I think it’s cool, and sexy, and proves just how strong you are.”

“Can I just be soft and loving tonight?” He asks completely earnestly. “I don't have it in me to pretend anymore.”

“Yeah,” it almost breaks her heart. “Let go, baby, you’re safe with me.”

—

Eddie gets a job at the rebuilt Star Court mall, he runs the record store with pretty good pay and decent hours, meaning she can take fewer shifts and watch Jamie more. They even start house hunting on Eddie’s day off, they have a favourite that they want to put a bid on, they just need Wayne to check it out too, seeing as he’s coming with them.

She wouldn’t even dream of continuing to raise her family without him, Papa Wayne is the best grandpa in the whole state. Today he wakes up a bit early before his shift so the three of them can go look at the house, and maybe hit the grocery store on their way home, Wayne will do anything for the chance to spoil his grandson with sweets.

He drives them out of town, Jamie in his car seat in the back, she keeps turning around to try and peak at him to make sure he’s safe and okay, Wayne eventually places his hand on her kneecap and rubs his thumb on her gently. “He’s fine, what’s got you so nervous?”

“I uh,” she takes a deep breath. “I don’t feel good…”

His brows raise but his eyes stay on the road, “what kinda not feelin’ good?”

“Like the possibly knocked-up again kind of not feelin’ good…” she admits, “we agreed to try again if we’re moving and have the space so that he can experience it all this time and Jamie would be a big brother… please don’t be mad at me.”

She suddenly feels like a kid again, afraid to lose her support because she wanted to have another one of Eddie’s babies. But he shuts those fears down real quick.

“You’re 22,” he reminds her, giving her knee another squeeze of approval. “And already a wonderful mom, if we’re gonna have the space now, I think it’s going to be a nice addition to what we got goin’ on already.”

“Me too, thank you,” she relaxes into the seat finally, staring out at the road with a smile. “I’m so surprised how easy it’s been to transition back into life with him like he’s never been gone… and James loves him so much it’s amazing.”

“It’s his instincts,” Wayne explains. “That boy knows his daddy, blood or not, Eddie took one look at him and Jamie knew he was safe.”

“Like Eddie with you,” she reminds him. “I never really got to thank you for taking him in when we were little, I mean I was so mad he moved away to Hawkins but you saved him from being hurt anymore and I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“You don’t need to,” he’s always had a hard time taking compliments and praise. “How would you feel if I thanked you for making my family bigger? Huh?”

She smiles, shaking her head with a slight laugh, “I’d say you’re welcome 'cause I know you mean it, ya old grump. Take a compliment, you’re a wonderful dad to an equally wonderful dad.”

“Shut up,” he takes his hand off her knee to wipe his face, “you’re too nice, no wonder he keeps getting you pregnant.”

She smacks his arm lightly, “hey!”

“I’m kidding,” he can’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t mind having a hundred grandkids.”

“Good, 'cause I want as many as I can have with him,” she’s honest. “I love how much Jamie looks like us, I wanna see every little face we can make together.”

—

“What’s it say?!” Eddie’s practically on top of her when she comes out of the bathroom.

Wayne on the other hand gives her some space, holding Jamie in his arms as they all wait to see if she’s pregnant again. It’s such a lovely, yet suffocating change from the last time she was in this situation. The last time she was so alone it was terrifying, now she’s surrounded by her 3 favourite boys.

“It needs time, I just left it in there we’ll go back in and get it soon,” she explains, holding Eddie around his middle in a quick hug. “I really hope I am… I’m already thinking about what I want to do with the baby’s room at the new place.”

“So we're getting it?” Eddie turns to Wayne, wanting to know all of his thoughts.

“We’re putting in an offer, yeah,” he confirms with a smile. He turns to Jamie and bounces him so he laughs, “this little guy loved the backyard swing and I was thinking I could build him a slide, or a sandbox for his trucks?”

James lights up, “yeah!”

“Yeah!” Eddie and Y/N smile back at him, reaching out to take a hand of his each and shake them lightly. “You’re going to have the best time in a big house, buddy,” Eddie can’t help thinking about it all and how wonderful it’ll be.

“And a great big brother,” Y/N adds.

“Papa will teach you all about that, he was such a good big brother,” Eddie smiles at Wayne. “My mom said he was always the best, maybe you’ll get a little sister too.”

“Good luck to all of us,” Wayne teases. “The last girl Munson we had was your mom and she was such a ball buster… I do miss her though.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eddie sighs as he brushes Jamie's curls back, he looked so much like himself and Eddie knew he looked like his mom, so in a way, he was also looking at his mom when he looked at his son.

“I’m going to check it,” Y/N references back to the bathroom door, “should I bring it out here or tell you or?”

“Can I do it?” Eddie asks, “I wanna tell you if you are…”

“Yeah, go for it,” she swoons, letting him walk off into the bathroom to find the test face down on the counter, on top of some toilet paper, waiting to be read.

He takes a deep breath and says a small prayer in his mind, hoping whoever was listening would give him and the love of his life another baby so he could feel like a good dad finally. He wanted more than anything to be present in this little one's entire life while he still made up for his absence over the last year to James every day moving forward. He slowly flips the test, eyes closed, he bites his lip and holds his breath as he peeks with one eye.

Two lines.

“Oh my god,” he covers his mouth in shock and runs out to her, holding the test up in the air, “oh my god!”

“Really!?” She starts to jump up and down, waving her arms slightly before she jumps into eddies, holding him tight. “We did it!”

As if they forget Wayne is there, they share a few kisses and congratulations, wrapped up in each other's embrace and mutual glee. “Mama’s having a baby,” they hear him explaining to Jamie, ever so sweetly. “They’re just happy, it’s not sad.”

They both turn back to his worries that their hysterics freaked him out, “it’s so exciting, buddy,” they explain to him softly. “You’re gonna be a big brother.”

He reaches out for his mom, jumping right into her arms and burying his face in her neck, she cups his head and sways with him, “I can’t believe we’re gonna have another one of you.”

“I can’t wait to be here for it,” Eddie’s eyes are full of tears as he watches them dance.

Wayne pats his back, “me too,” he agrees. “I never did get to see ya all pregnant either, you think we can come to one of those cool sonogram appointments?”

“Yeah,” she nods, smiling with her whole face, “I’d love to have you there this time.”

—

Eddie is so careful about buckling his son into his van, he double and triple checks the straps and the buckle before clocking the door and getting back into the front seat, “you ready to go?”

“Yeah!” He cheers back. “Moo-sick?”

“Sure thing, dude,” his heart melts as he reaches for the nob on the stereo, “let’s see what we got today…” he tunes into the closest rock station to hear one of the many fan-fucking-tastic songs that were released during his quarantine. Looking in the rearview mirror, his little boy is head-banging along to the words, holding his favourite teddy under his arm and a big smile on his face. He’s the cutest thing in the world.

The drive is short, they are able to listen to only a song and a half but James makes them sit and wait for the song to finish, he doesn’t let his dad unbuckle him until the radio man comes back on. So Eddie turns around in his seat to look at him, “Buddy, there’s a record store here, I can show you all kinds of music?”

He lights right up, “weally?” He can’t really say his r’s yet.

“Yeah, come on,” he finally shuts the engine off and hops out of the van, swinging the back door open he unclips the buckle and helps his little guy to his feet.

Holding hands they walk all the way through the parking lot together and into the mall where everyone is looking at him. He picks James up, feeling like he needs to guard his son against the oncoming looks. It was strange for them to see Eddie Munson the child murderer with his own kid, he knew that’s why they were looking.

And everyone knew it was his kid too, obviously. But now they knew for sure. It was one thing when Y/N lived with him, the old gossip was that she was another one of Wayne’s siblings' kids that he took in, there were a few people who suspected Eddie got Y/N pregnant and then dipped, but most of them just thought Wayne was being charitable.

“Come on bud,” he ignores the stares and the whispers and smiles at his little boy, “we need to go make a few t shirts first and then we can go get a new album and listen to it at home.”

Up the escalator and down the hall, they finally get to the shirt printing store where Eddie heads right towards the toddler t-shirts. He sets James down and holds a shirt up to him, “this should fit you, what colour do you want?”

“Gween!” He yells, jumping up and down while pointing at the green shirt on the wall.

“Green it is,” Eddie laughs, standing up to reach for the green shirt in James’ size. “Follow me,” he points towards the counter, walking slowly so James can keep up.

He places it on the counter with a smile, luckily the person working there is a teenage girl with no preconceived notions about him. “What would you like, today?”

“Do you have any presets that say like ‘will you marry me?’ On them?” He asks carefully. “I want to dress him and then when his mom unzips his hoodie she’ll see it and I can propose.”

“Cute,” she genuinely doesn’t care. “I think I can make that for you,” she says, flicking through the patterns in her file folder until she pulls out a basic sheet of paper with cursive text saying “will you marry me?” On it. “This good?”

“Perfect,” he agrees, handing her the small shirt.

She sizes it, prints the letters on white vinyl and presses it to the shirt all within a few minutes. Holding up the final product, she finally smiles, “this okay?”

“It’s amazing, thank you so much,” Eddie’s so enthusiastic about it. He pays, the shirt is placed in a bag and he hands it to James to hold on their walk out.

“Ready to go to the music store?” He asks, not as excited seeing as he works there 5 days a week, it’s not a new place for him.

“Yeah!” He reaches up, wanting to be held again.

And who was he to say no? He picks his little guy up again and snuggles him close, kissing his cheek a few times, “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, resting his head on his dad's shoulder as they walk down the hall.

He’s never felt so right before. He used to feel he had no purpose, but holding his son, and seeing the perfect person he was able to make made everything in his life worth it. His son is everything to him, his next kid was going to be just as loved too. And they’d both grow up with married parents in a big house with a happy life, everything he always wanted, he was going to give to them.

James wiggles out of his arms when he sees his favourite store and makes a b-line right to the headphones on the wall. “Woah there, dude, we need to pick something to listen to first.”

“Mal-ika!” He yells, “mal-ika, mal-ika!”

“Metallica it is,” he smiles, walking through the rock aisle on his way over to the book, taking Metallica's Master of Puppets tape off the shelf and bringing it over to his little guy who already had his headphones on, waiting to rock out.

He could really tell his friends raised him so far, he loved heavy metal, he wanted his curly hair long, he wore little band tee’s and he was just so fucking cool. He was gonna have to thank Gareth and Jeff for keeping his memory alive through music, especially when they thought he was really gone.

He sits there, in the booth with his son as he head-bangs along to the loud music in his headphones, thinking about his life now. It felt like yesterday he was spending a month alone in his room learning how to play Master of Puppets and then he used it to save the world and now his son wants to listen to it all the time.

“Anything I can help you with?” His co-worker asks with a cheeky smile, knowing he doesn’t.

“No, I’m good, Hank,” he smiles back. “We already have all these albums at home, he just likes to come in.”

“Of course he does,” Hank enthused. “He’s the famous James Munson… one day we’re gonna have his songs in here.”

“I hope,” Eddie holds him tight and kisses the top of his head just as he starts to drum along to the solo on the desk, “however… I think he might be a drummer.”

“Gareth got to him,” Hank sighs, playfully.

“He loves his uncle Gare,” Eddie understands perfectly. “But once his hands are big enough I will be getting him a guitar and teaching him everything I know… I’m a bit rusty right now, but by then I should be caught back up.”

“And you’ll have new Metallica stuff to learn together,” Hank reminds him with a smile.

“True,” he honestly hadn’t thought about it.

But suddenly he was even more excited to grow up alongside his kids.

—

“Why is he so bundled up?” She asks as soon as she sees James, walking in the front door after work, exhausted. “It’s June, he’s going to sweat to death.”

“He asked for it,” Wayne lies, shrugging. “Said he was cold.”

“Oh no,” she gets down on her knees and cups his face, touching her lips to his forehead, “he’s not fevered… but he is warm. Let’s get you out of this, buddy,” she explains while she unzips his hoodie and peels his little arms out of it.

It takes her a minute to read his shirt, not even registering that it’s not what she dressed him in that morning. She reads it slowly,

“Will you marry— oh my fucking god?”

“Ooh my fuckin’ god,” he repeats back to her, completely perfect.

“No,” she can’t help herself from laughing as the tears start, “you can’t say that… but, oh my god?” She covers her mouth and turns to Wayne, and then the other way, towards their bedroom in the tiny trailer where Eddie was standing.

He stepped out into the sunlight and then got down on one knee, “you told me I had to really ask… so will you marry me?”

She didn’t think she’d be this emotional when it finally happened, she also didn’t think she’d be pregnant. She thought about this moment a lot growing up, she always imagined she’d marry him, and she always knew it would happen. Having it happen like this, however, surrounded by their family, even if it was just Wayne and James, it felt perfect. More perfect than anything she ever imagined.

She waves him over, crying too much to get up and go to him and James was a little freaked out by the tears too. He snuggled into her chest, “mama?”

“It’s okay, baby,” she kisses his head. “Your daddy wants me to marry him… should I do it? Should I marry daddy?”

He nods, “marry daddy!”

“Okay, I will,” she can’t stop smiling, overjoyed with how this all played out.

Eddie gets on the floor beside her, wrapping them up in his arms, kissing his soon-to-be wife’s forehead and then his sons. “Can I put this on you?” He asks, showing her the simple band with 3 diamonds on it.

“Yeah,” she nods, holding back more tears.

He slides the rings over her finger carefully, bringing her hand to his lips he kisses her knuckles. “I can’t wait to marry you."

“Me either,” she presses a kiss right to his lips, breathing him in deeply as he holds the kiss there.

And then James jumps in, kissing his mommy’s cheek with a giggle, slobbering on her slightly. Toddler kisses were always the wettest, but also the sweetest. They break from the kiss with matching smiles, Eddie grabs James by the waist and tickles him while she cups his little face and smothers him in kisses, making the whole trailer erupt in the purest noise known to man.

Little happy baby giggles. A perfect example of how the rest of their lives would always be.

Taglist

@fightingdragonswithwho @mrs-dr-reid @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @stevesmunsons @blairscott @sweetyyhippyy @wroteclassicaly @reidsbookclub

#eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4

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