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hairmetal666 · 9 months

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Steve has this bar he loves in Chicago. It's a little bit dive-y, a little bit dirty, but it's quiet. A good place for when he needs to clear his head.

Only, tonight, the place is packed. Music pounding from the jukebox, no space at the bar, patrons at the dartboard and pool table. In three years he's never seen it like this.

He has a second to wonder what's going on before he sees exactly who is going on, and for him to catch Steve looking.

"Stevie!" Eddie Munson cries. He leaps from the bar top, the people below scrambling away from the stomp of his big black boots.

He hasn't seen Eddie in years. Can't actually remember the last time. Max and Lucas's wedding? Robin and Nancy's baby shower?

Steve considers booking it out of there, escaping in the crush of the crowd. By the time he has the thought, though, Eddie's already pulling him into a hug.

He's excited to see his friend. He is! Really. He loves Eddie. But that's kind of the problem.

Steve fell in love and Eddie left town.

Well, maybe it wasn't so dramatic as all that. It wasn't until six months after they packed the last box in the back of Eddie's van that Steve could name his feelings for what they were. And by then, Corroded Coffin were building buzz and Eddie had a huge whole life outside of the people he saved the world with.

Over the years, as Eddie's fame grew, he came around less and now they hardly see each other. They still talk from time to time, Steve still buys all the band's records, and Eddie's still close with all the kids, Nancy and Robin too.

Eddie releases him, those big eyes bright, a pure and genuine smile stretching his face. Steve's stomach twists, heart skipping a beat.

"Gotta be honest with you, man. Never expected to see Steve Harrington in a place like this."

Steve snorts. "There's lots of place I go you wouldn't expect."

Eddie's smile wobbles, Steve thinks. It's gone in a blink, though, and Eddie laughs. "I'm sure you do, sweetheart. Have time for a drink with me?"

Eddie navigates to the bar, returns with two beers in hand. He presses his palm to the small of Steve's back, directing him to the single empty table in the corner as far from the jukebox as possible.

"How's life treating you, Stevie?" Eddie asks after a sip. "Nance told me the store is doing really well."

"It's good, yeah. Finally turning a profit. Wasn't sure about Dustin having us add a game section, but he was right. It's really taken off."

"Oh, he told me," Eddie smirks.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that he did. He hasn't let me hear the end of it."

"That tone," Eddie says, voice soft.

"What brings you to Chicago?" He asks to hide the way all the fucking love he feels for this man is bleeding out of him.

"Not really supposed to be," he laughs. "Flight got diverted to O'Hare, can't get another one until tomorrow. Have to make it to LA in time to play a show."

They both know Eddie loves it; the rush, the adrenaline, that comes with performing, to making it to shows at the very last minute. It's how they got here in the first place.

"Working on new music?"

Eddie leans back, dimples popping with the pleased lift of his lips. "Oh, Harrington, you don't even know what we have in store." He leans over the table and launches into tales of rehearsals and writing. Steve drinks his beer and can't take his eyes off his friend, Eddie the sun Steve orbits around, helpless to his gravitational pull.

"So, Stevie," Eddie says, once there's no more to tell about music. "You seeing anyone?"

Steve hides his cringe with a chuckle. Picks up his beer to buy time and finds it empty. "Not anyone of note."

"C'mon, how is that possible? You're easily the hottest guy in this place."

He grimaces. "That's a low bar."

"Oooh, still bitchy after all these years." Eddie snickers, takes a swig from his bottle.

"Shut-up."

"Seems like it's been a while since you dated."

"You interrogating my love life now, Munson?"

"No, not at all. Just curious."

"Okay, who are you dating? Still that guy from People?"

"Gossip," Eddie frowns.

"Anyone else you got your eye on?"

"No one new," Eddie says. He stares at Steve hard for a second, like he wants to dig into his brain, like it holds the answer to all life's question.

"There is someone, then." Steve tries to ignore the jealousy licking down his spine. Eddie isn't his and never will be.

Eddie picks at the label on his now empty beer. "Not--not really." He licks his lips, leaning over the table again. "Is there a reason you don't seem to date anymore, man? It's just--you wouldn't hurt for options, right?"

Steve freezes, trying to figure out a way to answer that won't end up breaking his own heart. "Ah, it's--you know, things got busy with opening the store and everything. Stopped being a priority."

"Are you lonely?"

"Are you?" He snaps before he can stop himself. "Sorry, I'm--sorry."

"Yeah, man. I'm lonely as hell." Eddie answers as though Steve didn't give him an out.

"I--you ever have someone where the timing is always wrong?"

"Think it's a hazard of my profession. Who's yours?"

"What?" Steve clunks his bottle too hard against the table.

"The one that got away?"

"It's--it--I--it doesn't matter."

Eddie's smile is all jagged edges. "Nancy?"

"God, no. Nance and I are good with being friends. No lingering feelings there. Who's yours?"

"Ahh," Eddie sits back a little, eyes glittering with an emotion Steve can't place. "The best boy I ever met. Can't get over him, can't forget him. I think they guys are going to start banning my 'pathetic gay yearning songs'. Gareth's words."

Something in Steve's chest crumbles to dust. There's someone. Has always been someone. Of course. Eddie is beautiful and hot and charismatic and fucking famous. And Steve is--just a guy who runs a struggling bookstore with a couple of his best friends.

"That's--I'm sorry it didn't work out." He's trying to stop his voice from breaking, from giving Eddie any hint of what he's feeling, just knows he has to get out. "Listen, man, thanks for the beer. Great to catch up. You should hit up Robin and Nancy the next time you're in town. I gotta get going."

"Wait, Steve--"

"See you around."

He doesn't wait. He pushes through the people, and races out the door, into the crisp Chicago fall air. He squeezes his eyes closed, practices his breathing exercises, tries to relax the clench of his teeth, ease the screaming in his lungs.

Three steps away from the building is as far as he gets before he hears, "Steve, please wait." A hand catches his hip, holding him in place.

"Eddie, I don't--"

"It's you," Eddie says. His face is pale, stricken. "You're the one who got away, Steve."

"What?"

"I've never been able to work up the nerve to confess. I've been trying for years, but. Too afraid of losing you to tell the truth."

"Years?" Steve's brain is trying to wrap around what's happening. That Eddie has feelings for him? That he's the source of the pathetic gay yearning?

"God, since 1986, at least."

Steve doesn't know what to say; what to do. He's been waiting for this moment so long, and his brain goes on pause.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same," Eddie rambles. "Hell, I'd be surprised if you did, but--"

"You're mine too," the words tumble out.

"What?"

"You're the one who got away. For me. You're mine."

"Steve," Eddie breathes. "Is this--are you serious?"

"Pathetic gay yearning and all."

Eddie's laugh is a bright spot in the darkness, relief and happiness mixed with the hope of what's next.

Steve can't help but giggle. "We're so dumb," he says.

Eddie looks at him with a raised eyebrow before bursting into giggles of his own. "So dumb, Steve, oh my god."

"It's been a decade!"

"Fuck," Eddie cackles.

They collapse against each other, chests heaving with their mirth. As they catch their breath, Steve nuzzles against Eddie's neck, relishing the closeness. It's easy for him to change the angle so their lips meet in a kiss frantic with ten years of longing.

"Your place or mine?" Eddie asks once they part.

Steve laughs. "You think I'm that easy, Munson?"

"Oh, Steve," Eddie smirks. "I know it."

"Asshole." Steve presses a kiss to his jaw. "How many songs did you write about me?"

Eddie smiles so hard his dimples pop. "All of them, baby. Every single one."

Steve rests their foreheads together, body fizzing like freshly uncorked champagne, "Take me home, Ed."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #angst #friends to lovers #angst with a happy ending #idiots in love #mutual pining #famous eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #pathetic gay yearning #fluff #the one that got away #second chances #getting together

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theemporium · 3 months

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[3.5k] married life has perks that you hadn't ever imagined. and it came with duties you never considered to exist in a totally fake, accidental marriage with a three time world champion who was not what he seemed.

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As stupid as it sounded considering he had messaged his confirmation, you hadn’t actually expected Max to show up. At most, you expected the question for your address was just going to be him sending the McDonald’s to you with a note saying ‘just this once’.

So when someone knocked on the door a little past ten o’clock, you really weren’t expecting to find Max standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face and two bags full of groceries in his hands.

You stood there, dumbfounded and blinking at the world champion in front of you. “You were serious.”

His brows furrowed together slightly like you were the one being out of character. “Yeah, I was,” he said, waiting a few moments before he continued. “So, are you going to let me in or—”

“Oh, yeah!” You flashed him a shy smile as you stepped to the side, pulling the door open a little wider as he stepped into your apartment. You made a brief, noncommittal noise and muttered something about a kitchen in the direction you waved your hand, but Max walked in the right direction almost like he owned the place.

Like he knew his way around your apartment with ease.

The thought shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did.

You glanced down at your attire with a frown, your cheeks burning at your chosen outfit but, in your defence, you really hadn’t expected Max—or anyone—to come over tonight. The shirt was an old one of your father’s you had stolen from his closet many years ago, the pyjama bottoms were from a Christmas set your family had got a couple of years ago and your hair was pushed back from your face in some messy hair-do that probably wasn’t the most flattering.

And definitely not the outfit you would have chosen if you knew Max was coming over.

But you pushed down the urge to grab a hoodie or a blanket or anything else to cover yourself up, and instead made your way towards the kitchen.

There was something oddly domestic about the sight: Max standing by the counters, emptying the contents of the bags as he murmured away to himself like he was accounting for what he actually bought. He was dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie (a Red Bull one, unsurprisingly). His hair was messy, dishevelled even, like he hadn’t bothered to put any product in it today.

You decided you preferred it much better like that.

“Are you okay with quesadillas?”

You blinked, looking at Max with raised brows. “You can make quesadillas?”

Max glanced at you over his shoulder, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “You say that like it’s a hard dish to make.”

“I still burn toast,” you admitted with a shrug. “So anything that isn’t charred is impressive to me.”

Max snorted, almost like he thought you were joking. It was embarrassing that you weren’t, and almost impressive itself that you had managed to stay alive this long by yourself after you moved out of your mother’s house.

“Yes, I can make quesadillas,” he said, finally answering your question as he began to move through the kitchen like he belonged. “It won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes at most.”

“I may starve to death by then,” you whined, a playful tint to your words as you pulled yourself to sit up on the empty counter space on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. “McDonald’s would have been faster. And I would have eaten by now.”

Max turned to glare at you, his eyes narrowed. “You hadn’t eaten all day. I wasn’t going to let your first proper meal be McDonald’s.”

“And you said you wanted to be husband of the year,” you murmured, returning the glare and you could see his lips twitching upwards. “Plus, I was too busy to even attempt to cook for myself!”

“Too busy to eat?” He questioned, not quite convinced.

“I got wrapped up in my work,” you admitted, feeling your face burn as he watched you closely. You waited for him to get the same look on his face—the one your brothers’ or your mother always gave you—that screamed ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. But it never came.

Much to your surprise—something Max had been doing consistently over the last few weeks—he looked intrigued, interested, fascinated.

“What work was it?”

You told yourself it was a throwaway comment. That he was just being polite.

“Are you trying to stall the fact you don’t actually know how to make quesadillas?” You teased, head tilted slightly to the side as Max smirked in response.

“I can multitask,” he assured you. “I can listen and cook.”

“Max Verstappen? Being the listener instead of having people listen to him?” You let out an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Now, that is just unheard of.”

Max rolled his eyes, though you didn’t see the fond action.

“Maybe everyone else just isn’t interesting enough to listen to,” he stated simply as he began to work, collecting the vegetables he had chosen and taking them to sink to wash.

You watched him closely. “And I am?”

“Always,” he said, flashing you a smile over his shoulder before his focus returned to the food.

Despite his offer, you changed the conversation to something that was…well, more of a two way conversation rather than you talking about yourself and your work uninterrupted. Though, you pushed down that kernel of something warm and fuzzy and kept it hidden safe, even if his words were just a polite offer covered in sweet words.

Around forty minutes later, you sat beside the boy on the counter as you both happily ate your quesadillas, a bright smile on your face as he began to retell some old story about him and Charles back in the karting days. Once you had both finished, you took his empty plate and waved away his offer to wash the dishes as you assured him you had a dishwasher that did the job just fine.

Your back was turned to him as you loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher, not seeing the way his eyes drifted to some papers hidden under a pile of magazines.

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“These drawings.”

You froze for a moment before you turned around, finding Max spreading a few sheets across the counter. Your body burned in realisation when you noted they were some of your more recent designs, the ones that didn’t fit the pretty box your professors and teachers wanted, the ones that you liked to just draw for yourself in between projects.

“Those are nothing,” you waved him off, resisting the urge to rush over and snatch them from his hands like a mad woman. “Just silly, little—”

“They are amazing,” Max interrupted, the sincerity in his voice knocking the rest of the words from your throat. “Like, insanely good.”

You put your focus back on cleaning up, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted—almost pleasantly—at his words. You felt like you were moving in a trance as you cleaned down the counters and turned the dishwasher on before you made your way towards Max.

His focus was still on the sketches, his eyes scanning every little detail like it was important for him to memorise it all. You don’t think anyone outside of your teachers had ever looked at your work with such…focus.

“They really are nothing,” you said to Max as you stood beside him, fingers tracing over the drawings like they were gentle strokes of a pencil. “Just some fun on the side.”

“Charles mentioned you went to school for this. Fashion, no?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together like he tried to remember the sliver of information he learnt about you years ago.

“Fashion designing and business management,” you said, letting out a sigh. “I love it, I do. It’s just…”

His attention focused fully on you. “Just what?”

“Constricting, I guess,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. You turned to look at him, expecting judgement but there was nothing but understanding in his eyes. “I know in the long run these classes will help be but sometimes I just…”

“Want to do what you want?” Max finished, a small smile gracing his lips and it looked so pretty with his flushed cheeks. “I get the feeling.”

“One too many team orders ignored?” You questioned, your voice light and teasing and you were glad when he laughed in response.

“Something like that.”

A few moments passed with neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t silent, it never was in Monaco. There was still plenty of noise outside: cars revving, people laughing and cheering, the distant sound of music playing from some party who knows how many streets away. It was never quiet in Monaco, but there was something comforting about the blanket of outside noise when you were in your apartment with Max.

“Come with me.”

He had blurted the words out so suddenly that it took you a few seconds to realise what he said, what he was asking. You blinked once, then twice and still your brain was confused.

“Come with you where?”

He paused before his cheeks burned a light pink colour, like he realised he hadn’t given much explanation or context before he blurted the words out. He cleared his throat, his shoulders looking a little tense as he tried again.

“Come with me to the FIA ceremony,” he said and, if you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was nervous. Max Verstappen—three time world champion—looked nervous. “I mean, you’re my wife and…stuff.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I want you there.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking a few moments before the shock washed away and the questions started. “I—don’t you already have someone as your plus one?”

He looked a little embarrassed when he shook his head. “I honestly planned to go alone.”

Your heart lurched a little at the idea. “Don’t you have to tell them in advance?”

“I’d say a few days is enough,” he replied, a small smirk on his lips once again as realisation dawned on you.

“Oh my god.”

Max frowned a little. “What—”

“I only have a few days to find something to wear!” You hissed, your eyes widening as Max let out a loud, boisterous laugh. You slapped his arm, a wave of panic washing over you. “Max, this is serious! I have nothing!”

Max tried to fight his laughter. “It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to wear—”

“Yes, it is a big deal! It’s the official ceremony! I am the world champion’s date!” You said, looking at him like he had grown another head. “Oh my god, I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow.”

Max’s nose wrinkled. “Please tell me husband duties end at quesadillas and don’t extend to shopping trips.”

...

“When you said to come visit you in Monaco before heading home for the holidays, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

The curtain pulled back enough for you to poke your head out and glare at the blond sitting on the purple velvet futon. However, Logan just stared back at you with an absolutely bored expression on his face.

“You said you didn’t mind what we did,” you argued back.

“That was before we knew we would be sucked into dress shopping,” Oscar muttered under his breath, his focus on his phone screen. However, Logan quickly nudged his ribs with the point of his elbow and the Aussie let out a hiss as he snapped his head up. “What? We are, like, the two worst people you could have brought with you.”

“And it’s not fair Arthur got out of it,” Logan added with a pout.

“Who else could I have asked?” You retorted, looking between both boys with an expectant look. “Plus, I want to spend some time with my best friends before Christmas.”

“I know you are only saying best friends to butter us up but I have to say it’s working for me,” Logan admitted with a sigh, ignoring the way Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Charles likes his fashion,” Oscar supplied lamely before frowning. “But not…good fashion.”

“Understatement of the century,” you snorted before pulling the curtain shut again and surveying the pile of dresses you had dragged into the dressing room less than an hour ago. This had been your fourth shop of the day and you still hadn’t found anything to wear for the FIA ceremony. “I don’t think he would have taken so kindly to me asking him which dress he thinks Max would think I look the hottest in.”

“And we would?” Oscar grumbled.

“Is he still pissed?” Logan asked, ignoring the Aussie before you poked your head out and took even longer to get through the dresses. “I thought he was playing nice at the dinner with Pascale.”

“He did,” you confirmed with a nod, even though they couldn’t see you as you frowned at the orange dress you had just slipped on. Definitely not the right shade. “But he has also been forwarding me divorce lawyers and articles on American Marriage Laws.”

“Yikes,” the blond muttered. “He really hates the idea of you being married to Max.”

“He is an overprotective brother, he always has been.” You sighed as you glanced at yourself before shaking your head, moving onto the next dress which was an odd shade of moss green. “I think a part of him just blames himself for not stopping everything back in Vegas, so he feels the need to fix the mess now.”

“Do you wish someone had stopped you?” Oscar asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

You paused, unsure how to answer.

“It’s not like you could have stopped her, grandpa, you were in bed before the sun had even set,” Logan snorted, breaking the few seconds of silence as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

“And where were you?” Oscar retorted. “If you were up, why did you not stop her?”

“I was busy myself.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business, Piastri.”

“Out making your own mistakes?”

“Excuse you—”

“God, maybe it was a mistake to bring the two of you,” you commented as the curtain was pulled open again, and you stood in the entryway of the dressing room. You looked at them, your hands on your hips and a grin on your face. “If I had to guess, I would have said the two of you got married in Vegas with the way you bicker.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “As if I would marry him.”

“Uh, people would love to marry me,” Logan frowned before his attention shifted to your dress, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yeah no, puke green looks good on no one. Next!”

...

“Holy shit.”

With the FIA Ceremony being held in Baku, it meant that you and Max had to fly his jet out to Azerbaijan the day before. You hadn’t even thought about the logistics of the trip until after you had bought the dress and Max had sent you confirmation that Christian had managed to book an extra room at the hotel so you didn’t have to share with him.

It was incredibly stupid for you to be so nervous about the whole event when it wasn’t even about you. Yet, Max looked the splitting image of calmness as he sat across from you in the plane, tapping away on his phone as he played some stupid game Lando had got him addicted to.

His nerves remained calm once you landed, his hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the car that was designated with taking you to the hotel. He was a gentleman all throughout dinner as he kept one arm around the back of your chair as he indulged in small talk with Christian and Checo. He even walked you to your hotel room door—though it was next door to his—and pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek and walked towards his room before you could even say anything.

Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, was completely unfazed by the fact he was about to step in front of hundreds of cameras with his new wife.

You, however, were two steps away from shitting yourself.

You had practically clung onto Oscar the next day, needing a sense of normalcy before you had to start getting ready. Though, in an annoyingly predictable turn of events, even Oscar wasn’t fazed by the upcoming ceremony and the award he was about to collect himself. If anything, he found your freakout to be highly entertaining before the boring trophy ceremony began.

You had paced up and down the hotel room more times than you could count as you rushed around, desperately trying to look as put together and elegant as a last minute invite could. Your heart had been in your throat in the minutes leading up to Max knocking on the door.

And for the first time, he didn’t look so sure of himself.

Max stood on the other side of the door—a sight that made your heartbeat pathetically fast as the memory of him showing up the other night at your apartment came to mind—with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was dressed in a suit, his hair styled to perfection, and yet there was a flush on his cheeks as he took in your appearance.

“Good ‘holy shit’ or bad ‘holy shit’?” You teased, though you tried to cover up your own doubt as you glanced down at the floor-length red dress you had finally picked after dragging Oscar and Logan to seven different stores around Monaco.

“Good,” he breathed out, his eyes glazed over like he was in a trance as he took you in. “Definitely good.”

You didn’t even try to hide your grin. “You aren’t mad that it’s Ferrari red?”

“You could have chosen any colour and I’d still consider myself lucky that you’re standing next to me,” Max admitted, something sounding in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before you could ponder for too long, the boy cleared his throat and quickly offered the bouquet to you. “I know a boring awards ceremony isn’t exactly an ideal first date but….here.”

You took the bouquet with a wide smile, leaning down to smell the flowers appreciatively before stepping back into the room to place them on your bedside table. “Thank you, Max, they are beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said it so quietly that you almost swore you made it up.

You turned back to him, mouth open and ready to say something before you paused as you took him in, blinking in surprise.

Max frowned. “What?”

“Is that the same suit you wore last year?”

Max glanced down at himself before shrugging. “Yeah, and the year before that. And the year before that. And—”

You blanched. “You wear the same suit every year?”

“I don’t see why I need to get a new one every year,” Max argued back, clearing his throat a little.

“Max, you’re a three-time world champion. You are going to collect your third world championship,” you continued as you walked back towards where he was standing. “You should be wearing something special to commemorate the day.”

“I won the championship weeks ago though,” he said, his brows furrowed together like he didn’t understand your point. “What’s the big deal about collecting a trophy?”

“You made history this season,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as though you were trying to size him up, trying to understand him. “You should be wearing something more special than a suit you’ve worn years in a row.”

Max nodded like he understood what you meant but his lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Next championship, you can design my suit then.”

You blinked once. And then again.

“You would wear something I designed?” You asked, almost wincing at how soft your voice sounded when you spoke.

“Of course I would,” he said before he offered his arm for you to take. “You have a year, so you’ll have plenty of time to work on a good suit. One appropriate for a four-time world champion.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “And you’re so sure you’ll win next season?”

“Oh, I know it, baby,” Max grinned back at you, and something about the way he smiled made him look so young and mischievous. “Maybe you can make one of your own designs for yourself as well. We could be matching.”

“Maybe,” you said with a smile, letting the hotel door close behind you as you tried to pretend like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest at his implication of doing this again.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 372,947 others

yourusername 3x world champion and great personal carrier. would 10/10 recommend this verstappen guy

view all 21,930 comments

maxverstappen1 the stairs were steep, you would have decked it

oscarpiastri you would have

yourusername i take my thank you back

user SHE WAS HIS DATE KWEBFKBEFJWEF

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landonorris you are so-

yourusername what did i do now?

landonorris you told me you picked the papaya dress

yourusername i said that so you would shut up

landonorris your wife is bullying me maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 good

user i can't believe this is real

user THE FACT SHE POSTED HIM WITH THE TROPHY TOO

user has anyone checked on charles?

arthur_leclerc he is currently breathing into a paper bag

user ARTHUR-

charles_leclerc i'm glad your loyalties still remain with ferrari

yourusername well it is RED bull so...

charles_leclerc i am blocking you

redbullracing our favourite wag!

charles_leclerc i am blocking you too

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cherry-leclerc · 2 months

Text

stolen sweethearts ☆ cl16

genre: humor, angst, yearning, pining after three years so maybe slowburn??, fluff, second chances, whipped!charles

word count: 4.3k

Everything that leads to your wedding day and ends up with a knock on your door from your ex-boyfreind and an infamous letter.

req!...longer than intended, whoops! enjoy, anons :)

inspired by this !

“You’re making a mistake—”

Your eye twitches in the slightest, glossy lips curling into a snarl. “Shut up and be quiet.”

“What?”

Looking down at your boyfriend, dressed in Armani from head to toe and a blank expression, you wince apologetically. You grasp his hand tighter, knuckles becoming white, and smile widely, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. “Not you, honey!” A wet chuckle escapes when he visibly relaxes. “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.”

The engagement party was a pleasant surprise, filled with congratulations and early wedding gifts. It also brought out a large group of your friends from hibernation. “Felicidades,” Carlos says with a teasing smirk. “I truly never thought I’d see the day you settle.”

You bit the air. “Ha ha. That was the old me. New me is a completely changed woman thanks to true unconditional love. It’s crazy, try it out some time,” you shoot back.

The Spaniard simply scowls and bows away, returning to his earlier conversation. You consider yourself lucky—as if you committed a successful heist and somehow got away with it. He was handsome, with bright eyes, dark hair, and tempting lips. There truly wasn’t a single flaw to your now fiancé. And if there were, no one ironically saw it but Lando.

“You’re making a—”

“Mistake?” you finish off his sentence, sighing and rubbing your temples. “So you say.” You were in the middle of ordering yourself another piña colada when he hounded you like a madman. The Brit blows out with a tired expression, as if he were giving up on all of humanity.

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.” Angling your head to aim a dirty glare, you silently flip him off as he uses your earlier words against you.

“Aren’t you tired, Lan? It’s been three years, let it go.”

The blue eyed boy musters a threatening look and then rips your sweet treat away from your grip, immediately claiming ownership. Your brows fly up with an offended scoff. He chugs it all down before shaking his curls adamantly. “No, I will not let it go. Bloody hell, you’re one stubborn gal—you can’t go through with this.”

For the shortest second, a ray of hesitance strikes your face when you spot your fiancé, happily indulging in a round of shots with Carlos, Max, and Daniel. The group laughs with amusement over something he says. Your lips wobble, turning back to your friend, shooting lasers. “Why not? And please don’t say—”

“Charles.” Somehow, even with the mention of his name, your world still manages to spin off its axis, alarming your remaining sanity. Last time you saw the Monegasque was quite the day, ending with regretful words and inferior decisions. Lando grimaces when you let out a shaky breath. “You know you haven’t gotten over him. And I can guarantee you that this…” He spins his index finger around the flashing room. “Will not make the difference you're hoping it will.”

Have you made your Christmas list? I told you I need it at least two weeks prior. I work well under pressure, but for God’s sake, honey, this is too much. Charles chuckles, cleaning his pair of Ray Bans against the hem of your skirt. You sigh.

Oui. Making his way over to his duffel bag, he retreats a crumpled up piece of paper. Oh, um, shit. The green eyed boy cringes with embarrassment, pouting modestly. You swallow the giggle sliding up your throat when he frowns furthermore. I swear I had it! It must've gotten crushed with all my stuff. You know what? Charles strolls over to the flight of stairs. I’ll just make a new one, give me a sec.

As soon as he leaves, you yawn, stretching out like a cat. You can’t help the fluffy feeling; Christmas always adds to it. But something about this one felt distinctively different and you couldn’t place the reason why.

Your orbs flicker across the dimly lit room before falling back to the thin piece of paper. Patting your palms on your thighs, you get up and delicately open it up, curiosity overflowing. It shouldn’t have mattered, he was going to re-write it anyways.

His calligraphy had always been messy, and yet you always—somehow—understood; from the start of his sentences to the final dot. But this had to be the one and only time you wish you weren’t so comprehensive.

I’ve been thinking about us

A lot recently, actually

I’ve had some thoughts over these past few weeks and

I think we should just end things.

You bat your eyes, already feeling the pressure forming behind, stinging harshly. Was this meant for you? For you to find? Had it been intentional the moment he pulled out the fucking note? Would he just not come back and was it all an excuse?

But he does. And his pale face answers all of your questions.

Oh fuck, what have you done?

Rage fuels within you as you briskly brush away the acid sliding down your burgundy cheeks, heat rushing through your body. What have I done? What the fuck is this bullshit, Charles?

The Monegasque instantly rushes over, trying to get ahold of the piece of paper. You rapidly pull it away and force a step back as you let out a wet chuckle. He winces at the cold sound. Why would you do that? Why did you do that?

So you’re not denying it? You wrote this? You knew he had, his writing was imprinted into your brain like a manuscript you had professionally studied endless hours.

His skin only loses more color with every passing second. I’m not trying to blame you! I did. I did write that—but that was so long ago, you have to believe me, and I can explain! He kneels down, silently pleading you to bless him with a spare minute. Just let me explain it all to you.

I never took you for a poet, you bitterly spit out as you continue skimming through the full page. You have a lot on your mind—a lot. Scanning his desperate state, you can’t help but let out a soft whimper, scrunching your nose.

I’m not, shit. He grips your thighs from where he is and lets out a set of shaky breaths. Do you remember when—

I don't want to remember, you let out. I just simply want to forget.

He can creepily hear the way your heart is breaking and how his follows along with every word, puncturing his soul. You don’t even notice his coming arm, taking half of the note away and you irritatedly pull back, causing it to rip in half.

That does it, bullying you down to the floor where you start to cry. Out of anger, out of betrayal, out of everything. The green eyed boy tries to soothe you, mumbling into your hair but you’re too busy zoning out that you don’t catch a single confession.

Leave.

Charles flinches; you can feel it as he presses close to you. What?

He almost doesn’t recognize you when you furiously push him off, crawling back with a sense of suffocation. Pain crosses his eyes as he watches you create distance. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you here anymore—leave.

Anyone who knows Charles would know that he never gave up. He either spoke down on himself and pitied for a while, but never ever gave up. So this was a first. A tough pill to swallow.

If that's what you want me to do, then…okay. He stands up firmly, but inside he’s terrified that his limbs might call out for the day. But I love you. So don’t ever ask me to stop. And he walks out of your life after evilly twisting the knife.

With a new note and ring box deep inside his pocket.

Despaired eyes flicker over to where Charles eases into a conversation with Carmen and George, occasionally clenching his jaw. You hadn’t invited him—that’s just absurd—but he had gotten word from blabbermouth Pierre and you didn’t have the solidity to say no. From the looks of it, he didn’t want to be here either.

“Well I’ve got news for you, my dear friend, I love Hudson, so climb on board because this is happening…” Your voice trails off the second your ex looks up, as if he felt your eyes drawn onto him. Normally they’re dazzling and filled with joy, but the unfamiliar injured expression is like a punch to the gut. Your conscience calls you out on it, slapping you back into reality. Turning to Lando, you purse your lips tightly. “Who even is Charles?”

“God! When I saw Charles had showed up I just wanted to dig up a hole and never come out! Who would willingly go to their exes' engagement party?” Like a spinning top, you fume at Kika whose eyes shine at the sight of you, even after barking. “You should have warned me Pierre would do that. God, I hate that jerk sometimes.”

The Portuguese hums. “Me too…” You flick a questionable brow. Kika giggles, fixing your white gown, feathering it out like a dove. “I know, I should have! Bad friend, bad friend,” she childishly says. You can’t help rolling your eyes, returning your attention back to your reflection. “But if we’re being truthful here, someone should have warned Charles.”

“What are you talking about?”

Taking a quick sip of the complimentary champagne, she nods enthusiastically. “No one gave him a heads up. He thought it was just any other ordinary party—nowhere near a proposal.”

Your stomach churns, mortification taking over at the sudden report. Charles’ reaction was odd, but you couldn’t help filling up with satisfaction, climbing onto your high horse when you saw it. Never in a million years did you ever consider that being a surprise to him too. Hellooo? Coughing awkwardly, you swat her hand far away. Kika yelps.

“Yeah, well he deserves it.” You chug down the rest of her drink in a matter of seconds. Her wide eyes grow larger as she nervously giggles. “No one ever gave me a warning either.”

You were never one for being superstitious, but if anyone ever taught you something valuable, then it would be to never make contact with the groom before the wedding ceremony. He probably didn’t know any better—it of course wasn’t intentional—but that doesn’t stop your heartbeat from spiking up when you spot your fiancé sauntering over to where to stand.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss. Hudson furrows his thick brow. What are you talking about? I came to see you. You look fucking hot by the way. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shoo him, expensive jewelry clinking against one another. “Listen, that’s sweet and all, but you need to leave or else you’re going to ruin it!” You already did, the devil on your shoulder growls. You try relaxing, but can still feel the tenseness shifting between your shoulder blades. “Hudson, I’m dead serious, go.”

The stubborn brunette raises his arms in defense, mouthing a quick wow and walking back out. Were you being a tad bit colder than intended? Was there a better way to deal with the unwanted interaction? Yes. Probably. That’s what you tried to convince yourself because you knew the longer you pondered, the quicker you would realize that Lando was right.

You were making a mistake.

Charles isn’t any better off. He twists and turns the entire night, debating whether he should attend the occasion he knew would most likely make him flat line, but the curiosity definitely got to him. He always wondered what type of dress you would exclusively choose, perfect in every detail. Your hair, your heels. Your smile. Because they weren’t all the same. There was the kind that would sort of slip to a subtle, shy frown when he would compliment you, so he often saw lots of those. Or the kind that would cause your eyes to crinkle—he witnessed those when he would tickle you half to death, laughing loudly as tears would start to form. What he would kill to see you beam back at him once again…

But naturally, he talked himself out of it. What good does it do for him? The following morning, as he blinks strangely at the white wall, he starts to reminisce to himself. Like your first date—which was originally for both Carlos and Isa—but you both weaseled your way in. Or the time he taught you how to skate; only to remember he doesn’t know how to skate. He kept apologizing as the doctor secured your arm with a bright pink cast, but you only laughed, begging him to be the first to sign it. You were probably high off of meds, but still.

A peculiar feeling washes over as he spots an old shoe box. He almost dashes out of the arctic room when he realizes what it holds, but deliberately crunches down to open it.

And he knows what to do.

“He wants to see you,” Lily shrieks, peeking out into the hallway, then jumping back in. The teal dress was doing wonders for her skin tone, but you couldn’t help the agitation. Tell him I don’t want to see him. We have a whole lifetime to do that, you groan, slipping onto your heels.

Your bridesmaid clicks her tongue, widening the entrance as you hold back a much needed gasp. “I think you should tell him yourself…”

“I only need a minute,” Charles stammers, a thin layer of sweat coating his sharp nose. You’re too afraid to speak, so you robotically nod as you watch everyone scurry out, giving you two privacy. The twenty-six year old shyly gets closer, gently pinching a piece of paper in between his clammy grip. Your heart stops. “I walked beneath a ladder…on my way here,” he clarifies. You blink, long lashes fluttering like a fan. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn.”

If I had known you were this manly, I would’ve married you a lifetime ago. It slips out like a force of nature before you can stop yourself as your boyfriend halts from his task. The day was soon ending, late November, and you were both working together on painting the bedroom your dream shade. He had tried talking you out of it because it was simply—just white— but you had hounded him until he agreed. Now he stands here with a white coloring staining his dark gray shirt and you’ve never been happier.

Is that something you might want? Charles tries to play it cool, picking up from where he left off, lips itching into a goofy grin. To get married?

You’re almost glad he’s not facing you since you're as bright as a tomato. I won’t lie, I’ve definitely thought about it. You take a sip of water, suddenly caught with a dry throat. Could be nice.

The Monegaque flips around to face you, placing the paint roller down and strolling over to where you sit criss-cross. You visibly gulp; electricity slipping into the small room. It would be, wouldn’t it? His pink lips ghost over yours as you lean in a bit.

Yeah…

Could kiss you anytime I want… Kiss. Fuck you anytime I want… Another kiss. My fucking dream.

You moan against his touch, melting away like an ice cream sundae. I-I-I really think we could do it; be married. You had been together for so long now, you’re honestly surprised you hadn’t had this conversation any sooner. I would choose that exact same shade for my dress, you squeal, pointing at the wet wall. He hums. Not eggshell, not timid white—whipped cream, if you will.

Ahhhh, smart girl, he teases, nipping at your bottom lip. You practice this shit when I’m not around?

You laugh. I’ve been taught all kinds of tones from birth. My father was a painter himself, remember?

Of course I do, mon amour. He only created the best piece of art yet, he announces with a cheshire smile, watercolor eyes pointing down at you. You blush.

You’re such a klutz, you would probably do something stupid like walk underneath a ladder on our wedding day. You only do it every time, you say, wiggling out of his grip as he tickles you.

I swear I don't do that shit on purpose, it just happens, okay?

Pressing your nose against his, you cozily sigh. As long as we don’t see eachother until the actual ceremony, then I won’t be too upset.

Is that a promise?

You nod. That’s a fucking vow.

“You called it.”

Shifting uncomfortably, you chuckle when you nearly tip over. “Yeah, you’ve always been like that, but don’t think about it too much—it’s not like it’s your wedding.”

He clenches his sharp jaw. “Sure, but bad luck is bad luck, no? And I think I’m quite familiar with it.”

His words shouldn’t impact you so much years laters, but they do. Perhaps it’s due to his sorrowful stare, or his anxious tick, but it kills you just the same way it did that December night. You let out a light shudder, blinking away tears. “What do you want, Charles?”

“I wrote you a letter.”

God—a heartfelt note is the last thing you wanted and today was not the day to receive it either. Or ever. Not when it came from him. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit too late for that. I’m about to be a married woman in approximately an hour.” You narrow your neat brows, flawless makeup shimmering against the sunbeams. “What gives you the right to walk back into my life, get shit off your chest for your own sake, and just for you to do what? Leave?”

You’re not being fair; not completely, but you can't help it. For the longest time, you thought you were over it, but clearly not. Charles licks his rosy lips, closing the gap between you two. “This isn’t something I just came up with.” He extends his arm out. “I wrote this three years ago.”

You inhale sharply, suspiciously eyeing the white paper. Please, just read it. Back then you could never turn him down, as much as you tried…

And it appears like today wasn’t any different.

It’s almost hilarious to think about how much you cried on your proposal date and how much you are now. You were a light rain at best when Hudson got down on one knee, but Charles stands here, tall, and you’re a complete waterfall.

“Y-you were going to ask me to…” A headache comes rolling in as you let out a wet cry. “This isn’t true; it isn’t real. You wrote this today and came here to fuck with me.”

The Monegasque shakes his head in panic, blood painting his higher cheekbones. “No—listen; the first letter you found, I did write that.” You grimace. “But I swear I took it back immediately. It’s just that you were getting so much hate during that time, and you would always cry, and then you’d say you were never crying…You were in a really dark place. Do you remember?”

How could you not? You knew not everyone was going to love you for dating one of the top Formula One drivers, but you never expected to read such brutal messages either. They were descriptive, and cruel, and ruthless, and it crushed you more than you’d like to admit. Which was fucking stupid since there was always a rather large community that loved and adored you, and Charles loved and adored you—and yet.

You release a shaky breath, desperately rubbing your eyelids. Lily would probably throw a fit at your now snotty and smudged makeup, but you couldn’t really think too deeply about any of that right now. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The brunette cradles your face and you hate when you lean into his warm touch. “I just wanted all of that to end; for you to feel better. And I could never actually say the words, so I drafted a letter, and I’m so fucking sorry, mon amour.” The tides crash inside your chest, getting harder to breathe. “It has been my biggest regret. Hurting you.”

He did more than hurt you; he broke you completely. Like a porcelain doll, like a trophy, like a mirrorball; it ruined you. But you know he knows that when his eyes slowly turn red. “But then I thought to myself, it doesn’t have to be that way! W-we could restrict comments, I could post something and stand up for the woman I love, and I could reassure her by vowing the most sacred thing there could ever exist…And I sat down and wrote this letter.”

If you thought Charles loved you before, then you’re a fool. He was utterly infatuated, devoted, obsessed and drowning in fervor. This letter may be old, slightly cutting loose around the edges, but it’s pinned as straight as can be. Not like the last.

“My only mistake was writing the first, and to even consider giving up on us. My best decision has been writing the second, and promising to stick by you the way I knew I was put on this Earth to do.” Charles carefully draws you in closer. “But I know nothing could ever fix the shit I’ve put you through, but I’m begging for the chance to try.” He kisses your temple and you relax against his lips. “I’m fucking desperate—just one.”

He slips out his original ring box and shines the gem back at you. It’s smaller than the one Hudson had given you, thinner too.

But it has you written all over.

A dizzy spell hovers over as you blink hastily. Charles doesn’t dare to breathe, waiting for you. “This isn’t…I just…” You bite your lower lip, glossy orbs flickering towards the band and then back at him. “Thank you for taking the time to apologize and clear things up; I really needed that, but I can’t do this.” You step out of his embrace, immediately freezing as if you were spending a winter in Iceland. His heart palpitates hysterically, green eyes skimming your features. “This isn’t what I had in mind—this isn’t what’s supposed to happen,” you press sternly.

“You’re right; it’s not.” Though you had just said the same, hearing him repeat it jams the knife deeper into your heart. You can hear chaos ensuing down the hallway, your friends chirping happily at one another. Contrary to what was going on in here. “It’s not because you can’t marry him. Because you know you don’t love him the way you say you do.” He laughs. “You tolerate him at best! I saw the way you avoided him getting down on one knee that day. You kept running off until you couldn’t anymore.” You burn up. “And who was the first person you looked for as he slipped that ring onto your finger? Me.”

“You’re paying too much attention to detail,” you retort, almost snarling.

“Sure, and that’s eggshell.”

It’s like a slap to the face. Your blurry vision focuses onto your dress for a second before snapping back up. “It’s whipped cream. The way I wanted.”

The Monegasque rolls his watercolor eyes, nostrils fuming. “Open up your eyes and see—It’s. Eggshell. Nothing about this is anything you ever dreamt of for your wedding! From your dress, to your ring, to your fucking fiancé!” He huffs. “This ring is all I could have afforded back then, but I would have sold my heart to get you a fucking star if that’s what you wanted…But you’ve always liked the simpler things. You always said you didn’t need a huge diamond to prove your devotion. Look at you now,” he says, signaling to your ring that swallows your hand whole. “All of this is fake.”

You’re sobbing now. You’re bubbling with anger. Because he was here, with you, out of all days. Because he was still the same man who broke your heart and stitched it back up.

Because he was right.

Brushing your nose with the back of your hand, you stare up weakly, defeated. “What do you want me to do?” you whisper, brows drawn together as he folds over completely over your goddess state.

“Don’t marry him and come with me.”

Though you knew that was what he wanted from the moment he walked past the door, it still knocked the last breath you held.

Things were never easy with him. There were constant fights—but that never seemed to matter by the end of the day. There was constant hate—but you always braved through it because you needed him.

And he steadied you. Charles was the first one to apologize, even if the majority of arguments weren’t his fault. Charles was the one who despite crushing his own heart, he wrote that letter to keep you untouched from his fans, from the media.

The letter hurt; like a motherfucker—and it would take a while to forgive…

But there’s no one else you would rather work through with it than with him.

Smiling softly, you nod, almost as if you can’t believe you’re actually doing this. Charles lets out a heavy exhale, laughing as he hugs you tightly, leaving you like a fish out on land. But you’re giggling through it all. “I have to talk to Hudson first, oh God, I have to talk to his family…” you shriek, pale and mortified.

“You know,” he starts. “We could skip all of that and just—”

“No,” you coldly press. Charles’ brows fly up. “I have to do this.” Distancing yourself from him, you wobble to the wooden door before looking back at the handsome man who stands proudly with his neat suit. Butterflies expand freely. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

With a single hand pressed against his heart, he nods, as if you held the keys to all gates. “I’ll be wherever you need me to be from now on.” With that, you grin, eyes crinkling and exit the room.

What happened to your makeup? Lily squeals when she spots you running down the hallway, tripping over her tall heels as Alex catches her. There better be a reasonable explanation to this!

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @val-writes

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Another Lie || CL16 {5} - Max's Ending

Warnings: 18+ only, fluff, angst WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five (Charles) || Five (Max) || 5.1 blurb request

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you sighed as you saw the traffic backed up behind a collision. There was no way you were going to make it to your flight with the busy narrow streets brought to a standstill.

Knowing there was nothing to be done you found a good playlist and hummed along to the songs until you swore you heard your name. Sure enough, when you turned the music down and looked up you found Max Verstappen walking out of the apartment block beside you.

“It is you,” he greeted with a bright smile as he walked up to the door of your rental car.

There was no point leaving the engine running when the traffic wasn’t going to move any time soon, so you turned it off and unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Are you back for good?” he asked as he opened the door for you.

“I was actually on my way to the airport but that doesn’t look like it’s happening now.”

His smile dimmed around the edges. “Oh, what brought you back?”

“The baby shower. Weren’t you invited?” You frowned as you remembered seeing at least Pierre, Carlos and Lando at the venue and there were probably more drivers that you didn’t notice.

“I’m not interested in going anywhere that asshole is. The only place I see him is in my rearview mirrors on the track.”

Your frown deepened at the acidic answer. “I thought you were friends.” They had always been friends off the track and you had even been to Max’s birthday parties with Charles.

“No, that ended in Vegas. My mother used to say we’re only as good as the company we keep, so I told him my opinion and left it at that.”

Your lips parted but you were too stunned to speak and it took a second to recover. “Your opinion?”

His blue eyes held yours as he stepped closer so no one overheard the conversation. “I told him he was a fucking imbecile and that you were better off without him. You deserve better.”

You looked down at your feet with a smile and a soft laugh. “Thank you, Max. I honestly didn’t think anyone cared.”

“I tried to call you to see how you were…” His hand came to rest on the small of your back and guided you off the street that was getting busier as more drivers left their vehicles. “Do you want to come and wait upstairs?”

You looked around the crowd and saw some had their phones out snapping pictures of Max. “Is Kelly here? I don’t want to cause any problems for you.”

“You won’t,” he said quietly as he led the way inside. “She moved out a few months ago.”

“Oh, that sucks. What happened? If you don’t mind. I don’t exactly keep up with the gossip pages anymore.”

He pressed the button for the elevator to the penthouse as he shrugged. “We were at different points in our life and she wanted things I just wasn’t ready for.”

“Commitment?” you asked curiously but he barked a laugh and shook his head.

“Commitment I have no issue with,” he sighed and brushed a hand through his hair as the elevator climbed higher and higher, “but she wanted to have another baby because she was turning 35. I didn’t think age was a good enough reason to bring a child into the world, and I don’t want to be a part time father but I’m sure as hell not ready to retire either.”

Most people misunderstood Max’s blunt honesty as being cold and impersonal but you welcomed the practicality of it after all the lies you had been told. You respected him even more for it.

“And she really wasn’t willing to wait a few more years?”

“I thought she was. She said she was,” he said as he unlocked his door and opened it for you. “When I found her flushing her pills down the toilet, it was over.”

“Oh, Max,” you sighed and wrapped your arms around his waist knowing all too well how hurtful it was to be fed lies. “I’m sorry.”

He was slow to return the hug but you had to admit it felt nice when his arms encircled your waist and you realised it was the first time you had ever actually hugged him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked after you pulled away not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“I’m not keeping you from your day, am I?”

He shook his head. “I was only going for a walk to get out of the house. My own company wasn’t cutting it.”

“I know that feeling.” You smiled as he spoke of another similarity you shared and followed him to the kitchen. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, thanks.”

He gestured to the kitchen island where a couple of bar stools were tucked away and you took a seat as you inspected the gorgeous home.

“You look great,” Mac said suddenly as he handed you a glass of orange juice. “I almost didn’t recognise you, you look…happy.”

“Thanks…I think,” you chuckled before taking a sip of the drink.

“No, but seriously. Every time I saw you it looked like you were in pain. I guess you were, I just didn’t know why.” He sat beside you with his own glass and ran his finger around the rim. “So tell me, what have you been doing with your freedom?”

An hour later Max had heard all about your ‘recovery time’ as you had called it and he had smiled proudly as you regaled the adventures you had been on after the initial heartbreak. You had then moved out onto his large terrace to enjoy the afternoon, and it was the perfect spot to sit and watch to see when the road was ready to be reopened.

You were disappointed when the road was almost cleared and it was time to start making your way back down. It had been fun hanging out with Max and actually getting to know him. Whenever you had spoken in the past Charles had always been quick to take you away, his jealousy and possessive nature keeping you from ever getting too close to anyone else.

“Are you sure you have to go?” Max asked as he walked you back to your car and saw your luggage on the back seat. “You only just got here.”

“I know,” you sighed sadly. “I didn’t expect to want to stay longer.”

“Can I at least get your new number?” he asked as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “So I can actually hear how you are doing.”

You grinned as you took his phone and entered the number very few people had. “I’d like that, Max.”

He opened your car door and you surprised him as you threw your arms around his waist but he returned the hug much faster this time.

“I hope I can see you again soon,” he admitted in your ear before he kissed your cheek and stepped back. “I like seeing you happy.”

“Me too.” The smile he had brought to your face would remain there for hours as you slipped into the driver's seat and placed your phone in the holder. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

He closed the door for you and as you pulled away from the curb your phone rang over the stereo. You could see him in the rearview mirror with his phone to his ear and you hit the answer button.

“Hey,” you greeted with a giggle.

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting…”

Four Years Later.

A dark head of hair disappeared into the narrow alley between motorhomes and you frowned as you waited for another to follow. When three long seconds had passed and no one went after him you darted out of the Red Bull motorhome and into the same alleyway.

Industrial sized power cords littered the floor and hazard signs lined the cladding of the two motorhomes that housed the Red Bull and the Ferrari central hubs. You knew he couldn’t have gotten far as you burst out the other end and into the busy paddock, your eyes scanning the crowds before spotting him weaving aimlessly through the people.

“Jules!” The boy stopped as you called out and he looked around to figure out who it came from. By then you had reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder as you knelt to his height. “Where are you heading, little man?”

“Looking for my father,” he said with tears in his green eyes. He was the spitting image of Charles with his hair and those eyes, it was just like looking at his childhood photos again.

“I can help you, Jules, if that’s alright? My name is Y/N.”

He politely shook your hand that you offered. “How do you know my name?”

“I’ve known your father for a very long time and you look just like him. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

You fired a quick message to Max letting him know where you were disappearing to since he was expecting to find you in hospitality.

“Do you like racing?” you asked, making small talk along the way.

He nodded eagerly. “I’m going to race for Ferrari when I grow up.”

“I remember another boy who said the same thing, and he did it so I know you can too if you put your mind to it.”

You received a few odd looks when you entered the Ferrari garage but no one stopped you as you weaved through the workshop and tire shelves and eventually found a familiar face.

“Alessandro, have you seen Charles?”

Alessandro’s eyebrows rose at the guest tucked behind your legs before pointing to the room with Charles’ name on it. “Careful. He’s in a bad mood.”

“When isn’t he,” you muttered as you led the way and rapped your knuckles on the door.

“What?”

“Pére!” Jules shouted happily when he heard his father’s voice and the door was torn open.

Charles’ face flashed through a montage of emotions. Shock, confusion, excitement, anger. You watched it all as his eyes darted between you and his son before he recovered and picked Jules up.

“Where’s your mother?” Charles asked, his voice laced with barely restrained anger. “You’re meant to be with her.”

Jules shrugged. “Don’t know, but I want to stay with you. Can’t I stay with you, pére?”

Charles sighed and tucked Jules’ head into his neck so the boy didn’t see his jaw clench or hear his teeth gnash together.

“I found him wandering the paddock looking for you,” you explained as you backed away. “I didn’t see Sapphire anywhere.”

“I’m surprised you even noticed, you’re always so busy with Max.”

You rolled your eyes at the bitterness. Charles had never accepted his situation he got himself into or the fact that you moved on. There wasn’t a conversation where he didn’t criticise the relationship you had with Max which was why you tried to avoid it where possible.

“Maybe you should worry more about your own family and less about mine. There’s 20,000 people in the paddock today, Charles, you should be thanking the fucking stars it was me who found him.” An annoyed sound growled in the back of your throat as he didn’t even blink at your words and you knew sparing anymore would be a waste of breath. “It was nice to meet you, Jules. Goodbye, Charles.”

A hand caught yours as you turned away and you narrowed your eyes at the owner until he dropped it. “Why him?”

In all honesty, the question was three years overdue. Charles had had plenty of opportunities to ask that question in the years since the relationship had gone public and you returned to the paddock, only this time it was in support of Red Bull.

“Do you hate me that much?” he asked when you remained silent.

“I don’t hate you, Charles,” you said honestly. “To hate you would mean feeling something for you, which I don’t. My relationship with Max has absolutely nothing to do with you. Max and I understand each other and we respect each other, it’s a relationship built on trust and it’s healthy.”

“What a load of shit,” Charles snorted and put Jules down on the chair in his room before stepping closer. “You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me, bella. You always liked to play these games to make me jealous.”

You stepped out of the room as you saw the dark glint in his eyes, but still he followed you through the garage as his crew watched. There was an edge to him that grown sharper over the years as he spiralled into the hole he found himself in, but so long as his risks paid off on the track no one brought attention to the behaviour.

“This isn’t a game, Charles. Haven’t you learnt that yet?” You reached the fresh air and saw the welcoming red and black colours next door. “You could have lost Jules today. Go and take care of your son.”

An arm curled around your waist and you breathed a sigh of relief and Max kissed your temple. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Why? Worried she came crawling back to me?” Charles challenged with a smirk.

“No, I don’t have to worry about that,” Max laughed before he recovered and looked at you. “We have an announcement to make. Ready, my love?”

You laced your fingers together and nodded, a flutter of excitement rippling through you at the thought. “Ready.”

“What’s the announcement?”

“I’m not going to spoil the surprise,” Max said as he walked you into Red Bull where everyone was waiting. Spotlights were aimed at the two chairs behind a table draped in Red Bull livery and Max pulled your seat out for you, pushing it back in as you sat down. The heat of the spotlights were uncomfortable but you forgot about it when Max kissed you knuckles and gave you a reassuring smile. “No backing out now.”

You chuckled and squeezed his hand that rested on your thigh. “It’s a little late for that.”

The media producer held his hand up and counted down the seconds to the cameras going live. For two people who lived relatively private lives, you were about to make a lot of noise but in a few short months it would be impossible to keep secret anyway.

“The people here at Red Bull have been my family for the past decade and I would not have had the success of winning five championships without their support. I want to thank each and every one of you guys for all the hard work you have done over the years.” Max’s voice started to crack and pulled his hand up higher so it rested against the very slight swell of your stomach.

“This will be my last session in Formula 1,” he said to the camera with a smile. “I will be retiring from racing to start a much more exciting adventure with my wife, as we are having a family of our own.”

A loud cheer erupted through the packed motorhome and Max looked happier than when he was on the top podium as he kissed you in the chaos. “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “You and our child will never want for anything, I will always be there for you, both of you.”

“I know. I trust you,” you replied as you rested your forehead against his. Max had shown you how love was supposed to be, he had shown you how to trust again. He had kept every promise he ever made, he treated you like a queen and worshipped you like a goddess. You couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of your life with and raise a family with. “I love you, Max. You’re my everything.”

Click here for Charles’ reaction to the announcement.

Click here for Charles’ ending.

#max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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alocon · 2 months

Text

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [7] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko

Summary: Christian Horner hate club comes into full swing as everyone begins to turn their backs on the team principal and some Max fluff.

Before you read: Use of Y/N (sorry!!)

fc: Blanca Soler

[Previous Part Here][The Masterlist]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [Part Seven] - MV¹

youruser

🎵 Shawn Mendes - Treat You Better

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

youruser: Geri Halliwell appreciation post because I know how to treat my women ❤❤

tagged: gerihalliwell

----

maxverstappen1: Iconic.

youruser: The post or Geri? maxverstappen1: Geri, the post and the poster 💜 youruser: 🧡

gerihalliwell: This is so sweet, thank you ❤

youruser: Love you!! ❤ gerihalliwell: Love you too, see you next weekend honey ❤ user1: next weekend???? Geri reputation era??? user2: AJWDFDPOGJSK CHECK MERC'S STORY

youruser and mercedesamgf1 posted to their story!

The clock showed 2 am as you slowly got out of bed, and made your way to the kitchen.

You opened the fridge and squinted your eyes as the bright light hit you. You reached out for the bottle of water you've been craving when you heard a voice behind you. You jumped in place and turned around to see your temporary roommate lean against the kitchen island. Max had been staying with you due to an issue with his apartment, meaning he would've had to stay either with friends or in a hotel. Luckily, you had opened your door to him with no hesitation.

“Can’t sleep?”

"Hello. No, I can't. I figured you're the same?" You grabbed the water, sitting on the kitchen counter opposite him.

He nodded his head as he continued to lean against the counter. He had a relaxed look on his face, and was seemingly in no rush to return to bed. "What's keeping you up?”

"I'm not sure, I just can't sleep very well," you said softly, still trying to get used to the light. He chuckled, leaning over and turning the light down slightly.

He remained quiet for a moment as he studied your expression.

"It's always the same with me. Something gets stuck in my head, and I can't turn it off." You nodded in agreement as he continued, "My mind is always occupied and won't shut up long enough for me to sleep.”

"What's stuck in your head this time?” You asked, curiously.

He shrugged.

"Just work, life, the usual stuff. But I can't focus on one thing and it's causing me to overthink everything. It's draining.”

"Is there anything that could take your mind off things?”

He rubbed his eyes as he considered your question. "Do you have any suggestions?”

You shrugged, thinking for a moment. "We could... watch some films together, we could.. I don't know, see if sleeping in the same bed or something helps.”

"Hmm..." The idea of watching a movie sounded nice, but the mention of you sleeping in his bed caught him off guard. "You mean you and I?”

"I mean, yeah. You and I.”

He paused as he considered what you've just suggested. "Are you sure you'd be comfortable sleeping in the same bed?” He asked, his voice quiet, soft, almost slightly nervous.

You smiled, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I'd be comfortable with that.”

He smiled at your response, finding it rather endearing that you're so willing to share the same bed. "Would you be comfortable with me resting against you?”

"Of course. What's the point in sleeping in the same bed if you don't cuddle?" You grinned, looking into his eyes.

The idea of cuddling with you in bed made his heart pound in his chest. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowered to just above a whisper as he spoke quietly, "If I pull you closer, would you protest?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting the closeness, or the whispering, or the words. Your voice came out in a shuddery breath. "No.”

"Good..."

He smiled before he pulled you towards him, his arms wrapping around your body. Once he felt you pressed up against him, he let out a deep sigh, a contented expression taking over his face.

A brief moment of silence passed before he spoke again in an even quieter voice, "This feels really nice, you know that?”

"Yeah, I agree. Should we go up to my bedroom?”

The thought of taking you upstairs and into your bedroom to cuddle excited him more than he cared to admit. He missed it… a lot. But he also doesn't want to move too fast and potentially ruin this moment. "We could. Would you like to?”

"Yeah. Like I said, if it helps to let us sleep, I'm more than happy." You whispered back softly.

"Okay. Let's go. But..."

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of himself as he looked into your eyes. "Do you want to spend the rest of the night in your bed? Or would you prefer me to just come up and cuddle for a bit?”

"We could... we could do the rest of the night." You said after a moment, a soft, almost nervous feeling in your stomach.

He smiled at your answer, finding your shyness rather endearing. In a swift motion, he took your hand and started towards the stairs, leading you to your own bedroom.

He looked around your room. 3 of the walls were white, 1 was Palace green. The large bed had a black, wooden bed frame, 2 pillows on each side (one white, one evergreen coloured), the bedsheets were white but the covers were sage green. green. The curtains were green. There was an oak wood cupboard and a set of white drawers. There were some wooden, hexagon shaped shelves on the walls, kind of honeycomb shaped, all adorned with fake plants. There were some posters on the wall, all green, white and black, as well as some records. There was a desk with a draw that had my makeup projects. There was a small rug in the corner with a little art area set up, with paints (not open) an easel etc. There were a couple of beanbags in another corner with a few teddies and a guitar. There were a few photos around as well. He loved it.

Once he closes the door behind the two of you, he leant back against it with a deep breath. "I'm glad you agreed for me to spend the night. I was hoping you would.”

You sat on the bed, sliding slowly under the cover before signalling for him to join you.

Max followed your lead, sliding into the bed next to you.

He pulled you against his body once he was under the covers, his hands wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

You could feel his breathing slow down as he relaxes, a wave of warmth radiating from his body that is comforting and soothing to you.

"You comfortable?" You asked softly, hand instantly travelling to his hair, gently playing with it.

"Mhmm..." He squeezed you a little tighter, finding the sensation of your touch calming and relaxing.

You could feel his heart pound in his chest as one of his arms moved up to rest on your shoulder. "But I think I would be even more comfortable if I could hold you a little tighter than this.” He mumbled into your shoulder.

"Feel free. Whatever helps," you whispered, continuing to play with his hair.

Without a word, he pulled you up slightly so that you're pressed against his chest.

His arms wrapped around your body once more, but this time he pulled you as close as he could and you felt his heartbeat against your back as his chest pressed against yours.

You gently placed a kiss on his forehead as your hand gently stroked through his hair. You kept your touches soft, enough to keep him calm and to hopefully drift you both off to sleep.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he exhaled deeply, his body feeling relaxed as he let you soothe him with your touch.

He closed his eyes as he felt your lips gently kiss his forehead, and he let out a soft exhale of satisfaction. Your touch was soothing and gentle, and the thought of falling asleep with you in his arms is all he could desire right now.

It didn't take long for your eyes to feel heavy, letting all anxiety leave your mind as you drifted off into a soft, gentle sleep.

The comfort of his presence and your touch calmed his mind and the tiredness of his body took over gradually until he drifted off into a deep sleep himself.

As he slept, he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you pressed tightly against him.

As the hours passed, the only sounds that filled the room were the rhythm of each other's heartbeats, the gentle rise and fall of each other's bodies, and the slow and steady breath of your shared sleep.

The morning approached fast, your eyes slowly opened and you were greeted by the presence of his body next to yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It took a little while to work out what was going on, until you saw him on my chest. You smiled as you remembered what happened in last night's late hours and felt a smile form on your face as you felt the warmth of his body against yours.

He stirred slightly as his chest rose and fell, and his arms shifted slightly but otherwise remained in their location as he slept on.

The next morning, you woke up, letting you remain in my arms until you did too.

“Good morning,” he said softly, leaning his head onto my shoulder.

“Morning Max. Did you sleep okay?” You asked politely, causing him to happily nod.

“Like a dream, thank you.” He said softly.

You looked at your phone, before sighing. "Shit." You said, sitting up.

"What's up?"

"They've opened an investigation on me for creating a hostile work environment in the paddock??"

-word count: about 1.6k? Maybe?-

Hi all! Sorry I didn't post this sooner, I was really sick last week so was super unable to post. However, I will now be doing a schedule and posting every Monday (or trying to post once a week at least) and hoping to post part of my Max story every other Monday! Unedited pls correct spelling errors Have a good day Alocon

Taglist: @c-losur3 @itsjustkhaos @reidsworld @d3kstar @casperlikej

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britany1997 · 1 year

Note

Could you do a poly with the boys being mated to a girl that just so happens to be maxes daughter?

Fate Yields For No One

Prologue

Yes of course I can write this for you! Sorry I got this forever ago, I really wanted to make it into a multi chapter fic:) I hope this series will be worth the wait. Comment or DM to be tagged in this series or in my main list:)

Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

(I don’t know when the next installment will be out, but there will be more chapters, at least 4-5)

Warnings: angst, talk of death, blood drinking, dub-con turning

California, 1935

You clutched the wall as you stumbled into an alley, coughing loudly into your bloodied handkerchief.

You leaned against the wall, sliding down until you were seated on the grimey alley floor. You pulled the cloth from your lips, hand shaking to see it splattered with the evidence of your impending doom.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you recalled the fall of each and every member of your family to the same tragic fate.

The Depression had robbed your father of his job, and then your family of its home, forcing you to live a life on the cold California streets, begging for whatever scraps the wealthy were willing to give.

The spread of tuberculosis had gripped the homeless population in your town, and your family had not been immune.

You’d cradled your mother as she’d sobbed for your father. You’d mothered your siblings when she had left you too. Now you were the only one left, and it didn’t look like you’d be here much longer.

You withdrew into yourself, attempting to quiet the world around you, resigned to the conclusion that you’d be rid of it soon.

Which is why you didn’t hear footsteps approaching until a tall gentleman appeared at your side.

He was dressed in a form fitting grey suit paired with black dress shoes. His brown hair was slicked back in typical fashion, and perched on the bridge of his nose were a pair of wire rimmed glasses.

You couldn’t help but think he looked like the kind of man you’d meet on Wall Street, and not in this damp alley where forgotten youths like yourself came to die.

You coughed into the handkerchief again, staining it further. “Please,” you croaked, “are you a doctor? Can you help me?”

The man crouched down to examine your face. You gasped at his disregard for his fine clothing, and his immediate interest in you.

He shot you a soft smile, “I am not a doctor,” he told you, “but I can help you.”

He took your hand in his, smiling wider at your shocked expression, “what if I told you that I could do more than heal you? What if I could restore your life and then some? Would you want that?” He whispered, seemingly staring into your soul as he asked.

A tear slipped down your cheek as you returned his gaze, “I’m not ready to die,” you strained, “I’m so scared. Please don’t let me die, not like this.” You begged, searching his eyes for assurance that he wasn’t just toying with you.

The man sighed, “ok,” he breathed, “I’ll give you what you want.”

His eyes scanned over your broken body, slumped against the alley wall, and he cringed.

“I am truly sorry that there isn’t enough time to do this the gentle way,” he raised his hand to stroke your cheek, “I hope you can forgive me.”

As he finished speaking, his face shifted. His once brown eyes flashed a bright yellow. His teeth elongated into sharp fangs. The man had vanished, and before you crouched a monster.

You would have screamed if you’d had anything left in your lungs, but unfortunately the sands in your hourglass were almost up.

The monster lunged for your neck and bit down, draining the remaining life force from your body. As you faded into blackness, you scolded yourself for trusting this wolf in sheep’s clothing. You knew your error in judgment would be your last.

The monster pulled away from your neck, and you watched with blurred vision as he used his menacing fangs to tear into his wrist.

He brought his wrist to your lips, and wrapped a hand around the back of your head to pull you closer.

You fought to stay conscious as the monster’s blood dripped onto your tongue, but against your will, your eyes fluttered shut and your vision faded to black.

Taglist❤️:

@anna1306 @bloodywickedvamp @misslavenderlady @ghoulgeousimmaculate @6lostgirl6 @pixielostboy @riz-coolgirl @solobagginses @its-freaking-bats @xxryn @honeybedo @dwaynesluscioushair @feardot-com @lostboys1987girl @altierirose

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 2 months

Text

Part 2: Adam

This is part of my first series! If you missed the first part, please feel free to enjoy Part 1: Kellen before you continue on with Adam. In terms of content, this is rather new territory. There is a bit of violent content, bullying, slurs. This is likely to be the only part of this series with that kind of content.

Kellen knew about Adam long before he found himself in academic turmoil. The poor kid was the perfect punching bag. Kellen took pride in the fact that this kid skirted the perimeter of any campus space where he saw any jocks. Unfortunately Adam couldn't avoid Kellen when they lived on the same floor of the residence halls. Even when he'd change schedules or leave out the fire escape stairs instead of the main entrance, Kellen would still manage to find him and insult him, shove him, dump out his backpack, throw him in a trash can—basically everything besides throwing outright punches.

Adam came to the bottom of the fire stairs and found his path blocked by Kellen. All he could do was freeze—his fight or flight reflexes worn down to nothing but paralysis.

"Hey nerd, I need something, and you're gonna do it for me."

Adam continued to quake, unable to muster any further reaction.

Kellen smiles. "Glad to see you won't object. I have a paper due tomorrow in my history class. You're gonna do it for me. Here's the rubric," he balls it up and throws the paper in Adam's face. "I'd better get a good grade."

Kellen punched his fist into his other hand to emphasize his point. "See you tomorrow with the essay, right dweeb?"

"Uh... yes." Adam barely manages to get out. He knew the only way to get out of this was giving in and playing along.

"Just yes? I thought I'd taught you respect by now." Kellen took a menacing step closer.

"Yes, sir." Adam looked down as he said it, hoping it would be enough to appease the menace. He waited for Kellen to say more, but he just laughed and walked away. Adam collapsed on the landing. He'd be late for class again but he needed a few minutes for the fear to leave him.

-------------------------

A week later, Adam is loosing sleep. He already maxed out his workload on his own school schedule and now he had another one—well, it wasn't quite as rigorous as his own work but it was demanding, demeaning, and had to always take priority or... well he didn't wanna find out.

Two weeks later Adam is deep into mid-terms. He barely sleeps, his anxiety has risen steadily, and he was starting to slip on his own workload. His roommate Ben is a nerd like him with ambitions to be valedictorian and president of the student senate, etc.—a much more high-profile brainiac. His campus-wide notariety is probably why he never manages to face the wrath of the school's star jock. Ben sees Adam's mental health slipping and tries to check in on his roommate, but he evades. After a few times, Ben gets more insistent and manages to get the truth out of him.

"But that breaks so many rules. You've gotta turn him in."

"You don't understand, Ben. I don't know what he'd do to me and... it's terrifying." Adam breaks down crying for the third time in the course of the conversation.

"Then I can," Ben volunteers, "and he won't take it out on you."

"You're my roommate. He'd still make me pay for it."

"Then we could—"

Adam shuts down his roommate. "Don't do anything. Please, don't do anything. I can't risk it. There's nothing either of us can do that doesn't result in me facing consequences."

Ben, still visibly not over it, decides to let it go. He leaves for the library so Adam can have the room to himself.

Working late into the night and the early morning, Adam gets all the work done but the conversation with his roommate still weighs on him. It's cheesy, but he even looks out his window at a particularly bright star and wishes he could do something about Kellen, wishes there was some way out. But that was never going to work.

Ben returned at a rather late hour—2:30 am—but Adam was still awake even after his room mate returned and went to bed. He finished up around 4:30am and went to get even just a few hours of sleep.

-------------------------

The next day brought sun and warmth. Adam had no time to take it in or enjoy it as he sent the daily batch of assignments to Kellen that morning before breakfast. The jock would send him a message through Snapchat—since nothing was saved there—telling Adam where to meet, or from time to time, where to drop the assignments. He fell asleep in both his morning classes, one of which was review for the midterm test coming up later in the week. Adam was so defeated and exhausted that he didn't even bother with lunch, choosing instead to head back to his dorm for a nap. He hoped that would help him get through the test he had at 2:30.

Ben returned shortly after. He barged into the room expecting to find it empty and found Adam just drifting off.

"Oh, sorry. I wasn't expecting you to be here." Ben said from the doorway.

"Yeah, I just needed a nap. Hopefully I don't get too hungry in my afternoon classes."

Ben clearly wanted to say more. Adam was sure that his roommate was still holding back his urge to do something for him with his Kellen problems, but Adam was grateful Ben decided against bringing anything up. After mulling it over for a moment, Ben settles for a different approach: "I'm getting lunch, but I can bring you something before your next class."

Adam was so tired he could cry and the simple showing of kindness. "That would be great. Maybe a burger?"

Before exiting, Ben left Adam with an obviously coded statement of support. "Adam, you know I would do anything in my power to help you right now." But ultimately Ben seemed to respect Adam's requests to stay out of things with Kellen and ducked out without pushing the matter further.

-------------------------

Adam woke up an hour later feeling quite refreshed. He looked over at his desk and saw Ben had returned at some point with a salad. Adam sat up and looked out the window, taking in the nice weather for the first time. He had a half an hour to kill with some last-minute studying and then he had to pick up some assignments from Kellen before his test.

He sits at his desk, eats the salad, then opens his textbook and class notes... but despite feeling renewed by his nap, the words on the page still danced around like he was tired and he couldn't settle in. He must still need more sleep... or he must want to feel the sunshine before his class. It was just so nice out—of course he was distracted. Maybe he'd benefit more today by "touching grass" instead of cramming—after all, mental health was just as important as studying.

-------------------------

At 2:05, Kellen was ready to shove Adam against a wall. At 2:10, he was ready to throw punches at the little punk. This dweeb was always way too afraid of him to ever show up late, but today Kellen knew he'd have to teach a more impactful lesson since respect had clearly not yet sunk into the mind of this geek. He messaged Adam over Snapchat:

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!!!

After progressively more threatning messages, he finally gets a response—accompanied for the first time by a photo from Adam.

It was a nice day out Thought I'd go out for a run

Something was seriously off. Since when was Adam a runner? Since when did he take selfies, or wear tank tops. Hell, did he have all that muscle tone before hidden under his conservative clothes, or was that somehow new? Now Kellen was as confused as he was angry.

YOU NEED TO GET HERE NOW!!!

Another response, and another picture from Adam:

oh hehe i totally forgot i can be so dumb sometimes i'll run over to you quick, ive already worked up a sweat i can't wait to see you😜

Kellen was dumbfounded, though not as dumb as the new Adam seemed to be. He was suddenly some homo. This was either an elaborate prank or something fucked up was going on here. Before he could process further, Kellen receives another message:

see u soon daddy

Kellen stared in shock. This was a prank for sure, but he wasn't going to stick around for part 2. Instead, he was going to teach this geeky fucker a lesson tonight—and whoever else helped him with this. No one humiliates and defies him and gets away with it.

-------------------------

Despite his fury, Kellen was kinda impressed with the depth of the prank. This fake Adam had set up social media accounts. That last selfie he sent Kellen was even cross-posted on all his socials in their stories and somehow there were bots set up so the pages had thousands of followers and the posts had hundreds of likes and comments. This imposter even looked more muscular than before—probably yet another fake in on the scheme.

Even so, Adam's fate was sealed. Kellen waited until after dinner. He knew the nerd would be studying. After 7pm, he stormed down the short hallway to the geekling's door and pounded on it.

"Open up. You know who it is, so you'd better not ignore me."

The door opened and in a split second Kellen was inside with the person at the door shoved up against the wall, hitting the brick hard.

"Ungh." he moaned.

Kellen had acted so quickly he hadn't taken stock of who had answered his knock. The sexual moan broke his blind rage in an instant and he registered who he had in front of him. He only had a brief moment to register the blonde from the social media pages before he responded.

"Oh, Daddy, that felt so good. I was waiting for you all day."

Kellen is struck by a wave of repulsion. Was he turning this little twink on? He goes to push the imposter harder against the wall, but the homo looks him dead in the eye, bites his lip, and grabs Kellen's dick. He's immediately hard. His rage mixes with his horniness and his desires become carnal. Kellen whirls the little slut around and pulls out his thick cock. Adam is ready, as usual, wearing nothing but a jock strap allowing for immediate access. He thrusts inside his submissive twink and roughs him up as Adam moans louder and louder. At this point the hall was used to it since it happened at least once a night.

Kellen has had such troubles keeping his grades up since receiving a warning from financial aid threatening to kick him out. He's still on the search for a nerd to do his homework, but at least he found Adam. Adam could take anything from Sir as long as Sir didn't leave a mark. Adam made sure he set his boundaries, after all, they both should know respect always goes both ways.

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pleasantlycrazyworld · 11 months

Note

Imagine Billy seeing fem reader in a bikini

Steve was having a pool party to celebrate the first day and he invited the entire party obviously. However, he completely forgot that you and Billy dating now and he wasn't too thrilled to have the blonde coming over to his house.

You on the other hand were thrilled! This would be the first time that Billy would see you out in a bikini and it was also the first outing as a couple that would be with all of your friends. Due to your excitement, you asked Nancy and Robin to go bathing suit shopping with you and they agreed in a heartbeat.

The three of you were out shopping nearly all day, usually, you got super insecure trying on bathing suits but with Nancy and Robin being your cheerleaders it was so much easier to find the perfect suit. It wasn't too revealing but it fit you perfectly, and it was in the color you knew Billy loved seeing you in.

"Holy shit" Robin mutters seeing you step out of the dressing room in the bikini, "You look amazing!" Nancy squeals and with those two responses you knew you had to get it. The relationship between you and Billy was still new so you haven't really surprised him yet, but you couldn't wait to surprise him with this bikini.

It's the day of the pool party and you were waiting for Billy to come pick you up. He called earlier telling you that he would be there at two to pick you up. This gave you enough time to get ready. You hung up and decided to do your hair, nothing special just a nicer braid, but you still wanted it to look decent even after being underwater like you planned. You slipped into the bikini after finishing your hair and you nearly forgot how amazing you looked in it. You smiled at your reflection before putting on your black bikini dress cover. You fidgeted with your fingers as you waited for Billy, self-doubt started to fill your head but you tried your hardest to fight against those thoughts.

Just as you were about to lose that fight a familiar car pulls up to your house. You quickly grab your bag and rush to your designated passenger seat and kiss him on the cheek. "Hi handsome." you greet him, making him smile widely towards you, "Hello beautiful," he says returning the kiss you gave him. He starts to drive towards Harrington's house when he notices you fidgeting with the bottom of your dress, he knew he should ask what's wrong but he didn't want to force you to talk, If something is wrong they'll tell me he reminds himself before focusing on the road again.

He pulls into Harrington's long driveway and he can see you relax a bit, in your head you're reminding yourself that you look amazing, that if you didn't Nancy and Robin would've been honest with you earlier. After reminding yourself of this you began to feel more confident again and you jumped out of the car before grabbing your bag and Billy's hand. "Come on! I'm dying to go swim finally" Billy laughs at your excitement and follows you.

Before Billy can follow you completely outside he's stopped by Max and El asking if they can have a slumber party the following weekend. He sighs and agrees knowing how close they are, he turns around to find you already outside in a brightly colored bikini. He looks confused, you don't enjoy wearing bright colors but he just thinks you look amazing in them. He smiles and joins you outside.

Once he is outside he gets a better look at you and his jaw drops. "Holy shit..." he mutters, he knew you were beautiful but you look like a goddess in front of him right now. You turn around and blush seeing his reaction, you move towards him and he can't help himself from trailing his eyes down your body. "Do you like it?" You ask meekly, "Do I like it!? I love it, my goddess." He kisses you deeply making you groan against his lips, you two stay connected until you hear groans from the younger teenagers. You pull away first blushing even deeper than before all Billy does is chuckle and smirk before kissing your head.

"You're breathtaking baby never forget that," he tells you before joining everyone in the pool, leaving you standing there with a dumb little smile on your face before joining them yourself.

I hope you enjoyed it! If you did please like, comment, and Reblog!

Taglist: @sweet-villain @b-ritney @bookshelf-dust

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things imagines #fluff

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cunninghamschrissy · 2 years

Text

Eddie and Max Concert Headcanons

No one knows it, but Eddie Munson took Max Mayfield to her first concert

It was Metallica, in July of 1986, in Fort Wayne

Eddie had only managed to score two tickets, and not wanting to cause inner-band drama, he figured he might ask Max if she’d like to go

He’d given her some old Metallica cassettes a few months prior since he was getting new ones, and she’d really gotten into metal, now it was all they listened to on the way to school

One morning on the way to school, Eddie brought up the concert and asked Max if she’d like to go

“Um, absolutely!” she blurted out, as if he even had to ask. Then she added, “We just gotta make sure my mom doesn’t find out.”

Max tells her mom that she’ll be spending the night at Eleven’s house, and once her mom has headed off for work that evening, she sneaks over to Eddie’s trailer

Eddie’s fully decked out in a Master of Puppets T shirt, ripped jeans, denim vest, and combat boots when he opens the trailer door

“Here.” Eddie tosses her a shopping bag when she enters, which she unwraps to find a Metallica shirt. “I braved going to the mall in the next town to get you that, Red, so hope it’s the right size.”

Max changes in the bathroom and the shirt fits perfectly

“Looking kickass, Red.” Eddie says when she steps out of the bathroom. “Ready to roll?”

They pile into Eddie’s van and begin the drive, blasting Metallica the whole way to Fort Wayne and singing along

When they get to the venue, it’s crowded with people

“Stay right behind me, okay?” Eddie tells her as they make their way inside. “Half of Hawkins already thinks I’m a Satanist, I don’t need ‘child endangerment’ on my record too.”

They find their seats relatively easily since Eddie knows where he’s going, then head to check out the merch table

They have everything from vinyl to t shirts to guitar pick necklaces, and Max buys herself a soft pretzel to eat while Eddie browses

Finally, he returns with a bag full of stuff and a beer, and they make their way back to their seats

The minute the lights dim and Metallica comes onstage, launching into “Battery”, Eddie looks over to see Max’s eyes light up as she stares in awe

He cracks his beer, takes a sip, then elbows her and holds out the bottle

“Here. Have your first sip on me.”

Max takes the bottle from him and takes a drink, and immediately makes a face, which makes Eddie laugh

“That’s gross!” she sputters, handing the bottle back to him.

“Ah, so you say now.” Eddie smirks, taking another drink. “In several years time you’ll appreciate the ability to have a drink while listening to some righteous music.”

They both headbang and jam out when Metallica plays “Master of Puppets” because it’s both their favorite song by the band

At the end of the concert as they walk to Eddie’s van, he pulls something out of the merch bag and hands it to Max

“Here, I thought you might want a souvenir from your first concert.”

It’s a guitar pick necklace

Max swallows the lump in her throat, tries to say something halfway akin to a “thank you for this whole night” but can’t get that out, so she just resorts to throwing her arms around Eddie instead

He turns bright red and pats her back gently, but when she pulls away from him and keeps walking, she can see him smiling out of the corner of her eye

They get back to the Munson trailer before dawn, and when Wayne Munson returns home from his night shift at the plant, he finds his nephew and Max Mayfield both fast asleep on the couch, Max’s head on Eddie’s shoulder

#their dynamic is just *chef’s kiss*#I can’t stop writing about them #Eddie munson #max mayfield #Eddie and max #sibling dynamic #stranger things 4 #stranger things #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson headcanons #max mayfield headcanons

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erin-bo-berin · 2 years

Note

I LOVE your writing it's so amazing! Can I request a steve harrington smut?

Steve x fem: reader share an intimate night together before going into the upside down? Them just taking their time with each other. They have sweet romantic sex telling each other how much they love one one another and after they make it through they are gonna get married and start a family so maybe a breeding kink in there? This idea has been in my head for awhile now:)

Omg my heart 🥺 I love how this has feelings like “one last time before we go” type thing but also makes them stronger and willing to fight so they make it out.

I have been wanting to use this gif for so long and I’m so happy to finally use it LOOK AT HOW GENTLE AND LOVING HE IS WHEW

Whatever Happens

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

You sat with your knees pulled to your chest, arms wrapped around your legs.

You stared out the window near the bed, able to see the bright stars of the night beyond it, even though the curtains were pulled closed.

You heard the sound of a faucet running in the bathroom before being turned off. The pad of footsteps walking from the bedroom, then the bed dipping alerted you that Steve had returned to the room.

He touched your arm gently and you turned your head to look at him.

“You’re overthinking again, aren’t you?” he asked, softly.

“I’m scared, Steve,” you admitted in a whisper.

“I know. I am too,” he replied, honestly.

Tomorrow, you, Steve and some of your group of friends—Lucas, Max, Erica, Dustin, Eddie, Nancy and Robin were going into the Upside Down to stop Vecna for good. You knew he needed to be stopped, you knew if anyone could do it, it was your group of friends, but you were still riddled with anxiety.

“But you know what?” he asked, threading his fingers through yours.

“What?” you whispered.

“We’re going to fight our asses off and beat this asshole. Okay?”

You nodded, smiling a tiny bit.

“But there’s something even more important about getting through tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens tomorrow, afterwards, I want to marry you, Y/N,” he smiled, bringing his other hand up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek.

You and Steve had discussed marriage many times before and you had been adamant that you didn’t need an extravaganza, you just wanted to spend your life with him. In fact, you weren’t even really engaged, but that didn’t bother you. He’d always said he was going to marry you one day and his intentions were clear.

“I want to marry you, too,” you smiled.

“Yeah?” he said, “Start our family. With lots of kids?”

“You having these kids, Steve?” you laughed, pulling his hand from your face into your free one and kissing it.

“Well, I was thinking six kids.”

“Six?!” you squawked.

Although you were teasing, it was fun to see his reaction.

“Aw come on babe, wouldn’t you love to see six little Steves running around?” he pouted.

You groaned playfully, falling backwards on the bed dramatically.

“Some days you are handful enough.”

“Hey, I resent that,” he chuckled, peering down at you from where he remained.

“That does sound nice though,” you smiled, “I want to make that happen.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly.

“Me too. You know what else I want to make happen?”

He crawled over you so his face and body were now hovering over you, the warmth of it radiating into you.

“What’s that?”

“For tonight to be about us,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His hand slid up your leg, a small groan coming from him. You’d freshly lotioned them earlier and he marveled at the silky softness of your skin.

“I’m all for that,” you smiled, arms wrapping around his neck.

His hand came up to your hair, stroking it softly with his fingers before leaning down and connecting your lips.

He kissed you sweetly, softly, mouth parting just the slightest for you to slip your tongue in. You moan softly as the kiss progressed, his teeth sinking gently into your bottom lip, tugging it.

His hands traveled up from your thighs, pushing your night shirt up with them, wasting no time. He was already shirtless, preferring to sleep with you pressed against his bare chest, so he was eager to get the fabric that covered your beautiful frame, off you.

His hips pressed into yours as you kissed him, a soft whine leaving your throat at the feeling of the thickening cock hidden by his pants rubbing against your throbbing core. His mouth didn’t bother leaving yours as he pulled your underwear down your hips, your legs naturally widening for you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured in awe when he pulled away to sit back and look down at you.

His eyes were lidded, lips already swollen from your kisses as he raked his gaze over your body. You laid out for him, smiling shyly. It’s not like you hadn’t been in this same position a million times before, but he always made you feel like he was seeing your body for the first time—each and every time.

“You know, if tonight is about us, then it should really be about us,” you smirked, watching him.

“I’m not sure I follow,” he said quizzically.

“Lay back,” you whispered, pushing his shoulder so he’d follow your instruction.

He obeyed, laying against the sheets, watching as you climbed over him.

“You always spend so much time worshipping my body,” you bit your lip.

One finger ran over his lips, then down his chin and neck. You flattened your hand until it ran down his chest and to his stomach.

“I want to spend some time on yours,” you uttered.

Sure, you left your fair share of kisses and hickeys on him, but you’d never had the opportunity to take your time with his body and you so desperately wanted to.

“Okay,” he breathed shakily.

You started at his lips, naturally. They were addicting. The way they could part yours, tongue swirling with yours, bringing moans from your throat was almost downright sinful.

His hands rub your sides as you move on from his mouth. You nibble at his jaw then lower to his neck. You place a kiss to the more prominent moles on his neck.

His body is covered in them and you absolutely love it. It’s as if he’d been splattered with a paint brush, moles and freckles of all sizes littering every part of him body—face, chest, back, arms.

Your tongue flicks out, licking over the smooth expanse of skin at his collarbone then sucking on it hard enough to bruise. This was your time to shine and you were marking his body in any way you wished.

A lone kiss was placed against his throat and you felt his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly, your hands gliding over his chest, fingers slipping through his chest hair.

It wasn’t everyone’s taste, but you happened to love and be turned on his chest hair, especially when he wore a polo unbuttoned enough for the top of it to peek out tauntingly. Another single kiss was dropped at the center of his chest.

You kissed each of his pecs, hands sliding up his toned biceps, giving them an appreciative squeeze. He inhaled sharply when he felt your tongue against one nipple, flicking it, but you didn’t stay long.

“You’re perfect,” you mumbled, leaving sweet kisses down his stomach.

“That,” he moaned, your hand brushing teasingly against his bulge, “That would be you, sweetheart.”

His hips lifted as you pulled down his pants and underwear in one go. Your fingers wrapped around his hardened cock, not wasting any time.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Y/N, you don’t have to-”

But you’d cut him off as your hand glided along his shaft as your tongue ran around his head. Then you peered up at him.

“No one ever takes care of you. Let me.”

A low groan echoed from his chest and he chuckled, breathlessly.

“How can I say no when you’re looking at me like that, beautiful?”

“You can’t,” you smiled wickedly.

The groan that fell from his lips when you wrapped your own around the head of his cock was pure orgasmic. The sound practically traveled from your ears straight south to your clit.

You sucked it lightly, tongue swirling it again before taking more of him in your mouth. Your hand pumped the rest of his velvety length, humming around his cock when you felt his hand tangled in your hair.

“Baby,” came him strangled moan, “Yes, baby.”

Your cheeks hollowed as you increased your suction on him, gliding your mouth along him.

You felt a tug on your hair, but one that was alerting you he wanted your attention. You pulled back looking up at him.

“Tonight’s not the night for me to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours,” he chucked a bit, chest heaving, “C’mere.”

He’d sat up and he pulled you back up to his lap, where you situated yourself. His cock teased your folds, just barely at your entrance, making you whimper.

“If I’m gonna cum,” he whispered, mouth close to yours, “I wanna cum inside you. Maybe put a baby in you.”

You moaned into the kiss as he situated you until you were fully filled with him. You weren’t sure which made you react more, the action or his words. Probably both.

He held you close, hands gliding up your back while your legs rested on the bed on either side of him. You could feel him so deeply, but it was also so incredibly intimate.

You rolled your hips, making him groan.

“Do that again,” he moaned, guiding your hips with a hand.

“Fuck, Steve, you’re incredible,” you sighed, in complete bliss at his tight fit, rubbing against the inside of you in all the right ways.

“Mm, think that’s you,” he argued as he left sweet kisses along your jaw and neck.

You moved your hips forward slowly, just enjoying the closeness on of him, wanting to enjoy the sensation. His forehead dropped to yours as he thrust up into you at the same lackadaisical rhythm.

Hands explored and kisses were shared as you rocked together, only caring for the intimacy in the moment. It felt like more than just your bodies were connected. It felt like your bare souls had connected, entwining in one another just like your limbs. It was an amazing and rewarding feeling, that sense of togetherness.

“Y/N,” he moaned against your mouth, your bodies making the decision for you, picking up the pace.

“I’m right here,” you breathed, a breathy moan leaving your throat as he hit an angle that was spectacularly pleasing.

“I love you,” he mumbled, lips sucking harshly at the base of your neck.

“I love you more,” you answered.

The mutual need for the finishing ecstasy was starting to win as you moved together, trying to reach the destination. Your hands were threaded in his hair, chest pressed as close to his as you could get, head bent back from the overwhelming passion.

“Look at me, baby.”

He was getting close, you could tell by the way he was tensing, his breath starting to become uneven, moans turning more guttural. His biggest give away was the glazed look in his eyes. He was so close to giving in and loosing all control.

Your eyes opened and you looked down in his face. You saw sincerity, you saw passion, but most importantly, you saw love.

“We’re gonna make it,” he whispered to you.

Even if you hadn’t before, you believed him now. Saying it at your most vulnerable moments, close to surrendering yourselves to one another, he believed it. He would make it happen.

And you believed in him, with all your heart.

His hands pressed into your lower back, holding you to him as he repeatedly thrust into you, meeting your hips as they came down on him. Your thighs were trembling and the building cord of pleasure in the pit of your stomach was being stretched so taut, it was going to snap at any time.

“What if I put a baby in you tonight?” came his husky question in your ear, “Fill you up and get you pregnant right now?”

“Steve,” you cried, your inner muscles clamping down on him subconsciously at his words.

He groaned, feeling you squeeze him, your vise like grip just becoming that much tighter.

“Take that as a yes,” he murmured, hand snaking to your clit, rubbing gentle circles that greatly contrasted with his current thrusts.

“Yes,” you moaned, “Yes, Steve, yes.”

Your nails scratched down his back, breathy heavy, so close to tasting that moment of jubilation.

“I love you, baby.”

“Fuck!”

With his words, you came with a cry, face contorted by the insanely strong sensation he’d invoked from you. His moan was just as loud, long and appreciative, the tingling at the base of his spine finally taking over as he spilled into you.

Whether tonight affected your future or not, didn’t matter because right now you and Steve were together and you still would be after tomorrow.

“I love you, too,” you finally answered him, feeling like you could finally speak again.

You remained where you were, him still nestled inside of you and kissed his forehead, his nose, both of his cheeks before kissing him lightly. You felt his smile against your mouth as one hand came to cup your jaw.

You were both recovering from post-coital bliss and he looked as dazed as you felt, but when he parted from your lips, he stroked your cheek with his thumb. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he spoke.

“Whatever happens, Y/N, no matter what, I’ll always be yours.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

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constantcrisis19 · 2 years

Text

A Day At The Pool

Billy Hargrove x GN S/O

AN: Now with a sequel, Table For Two.

Word Count: 1,637

You could admit that you were a little nervous, you hadn’t exactly had time to do mundane things like this much because of your usually busy work schedule, but the Party had insisted that they wanted you specifically to accompany them to the public pool.

“Oh no. Our spot is taken.” Will lamented once you and all the children passed through the gates after paying for entry, drawing the Party's attention to what you assumed was their unofficial spot. And, true to his word, the almost blindingly white lounging chairs were occupied by a family of six.

“Shit. That was the perfect place for easy access to the pool and the food booth.” Dustin grumbled, eyes narrowed into a fierce glare at the family who had claimed the spot. Unlike the Party, you didn’t particularly think it was a big deal seeing as there were plenty of other chairs available that were equally accessible to said pool and food booth.

“What about over there? There’s shade because of the tall bushes and it has less traffic.” You suggested, gesturing to the area in question. The kids' collective blank stares followed the smooth wave of your hand, their eyes widening as their faces lit up when they realized that your analisis was a sound one.

“That’ll work nicely.” Lucas concurred and the Party looked to be in agreement, the kids starting off toward the huddle of lounging chairs to unload their stuff. You were surprised at how little they brought compared to yourself, your shoulder bag containing far more beach-related items because you hadn’t been sure what was necessary for an outing such as this.

“Sunscreen first guys.” You dutifully reminded, adjusting your round sun hat as you elegantly settled into one of the lounge chairs and raising a brow at the whining protests that immediately started up at your command. “No complaining, I’m returning you lot back to your parents in the same condition that you left in.”

“Stop talking about us like we’re toys that you borrowed.” Mike hissed, crossing his pale arms over his equally pale chest.

“You’re just mad because putting on sunscreen makes you look like a ghost.” Max snorted, prompting a bark of laughter from Dustin and Lucas while Will fought a smile, Mike turning the full brunt of his sour face onto his trio of friends.

“The beacons of Gondor could only ever hope to be as bright as you.” You crooned, your lips stretching into a toothy grin when your comment caused an uproar of laughter. Although, Mike’s frown only deepened at the harmless teasing.

“I regret introducing you to the wonders of J. R. R. Tolkien. Worst mistake of my life.” Mike groused even as he went about rummaging through his backpack, retrieving a tube of sunscreen before popping the cap open to squeeze a liberal amount onto his palm.

“Thanks for letting me borrow the series by the way, it was riveting. Although I’m not sure why the eagles weren’t utilized more.” You sighed, your legs spreading in order to make room for Max to sit between them, the ginger handing you her own bottle of sunscreen before settling with her back to you. You cracked it open and smeared some of the thick white substance onto your hand before diligently setting to work.

“The eagles couldn’t be around the ring or they would risk falling into its thrall. Like Boromir.” Will explained, being his usual helpful self in the face of your relentless curiosity about anything and everything.

“Boromir snapped out of it though. I respect him for that, I can imagine that it's hard to resist such compelling darkness.” You hummed thoughtfully, completing the finishing touches by directing Max to turn around so you could get the ginger’s face.

When Max was done and ready to splash around, Will took her place, settling in for his own slathering of sunscreen. Dustin was the last to seek you out, closing his eyes and leaning forward so that you could rub sunscreen onto his face. You found that you weren't surprised by the kids' behavior in the least because who didn’t like being pampered from time to time?

“Alright, have fun. I’ll pay for any snacks or drinks that you guys want, so don’t be afraid to ask for anything.” You assured, unable to help but smile when they all enthusiastically thanked you before scampering off, leaving you to your own devices.

You watched their progression to the pool before leaning to the side to grab your shoulder bag, digging out the thick book that Lucas had borrowed to you and flipping to the page where you had left off. Splitting your attention between the kids and the book proved to be easier than you had anticipated considering how packed and noisy the public swimming area was.

“She’s coming down.” A voice declared and you lowered your book, your curious gaze finding the source of the statement to be a woman who was the fourth one down in a lineup of other women, which were clad in brightly colored one piece swimsuits that flattered their matured figures.

They all appeared to be looking at something and you followed their intense stares to the large white tower that was on the other side of the pool, where a female lifeguard was making her way down the ladder before heading off toward the main building. Movement drew your eyes back to the women, who had posed in their respective chairs in a manner that seemed sensual and flirtatious, and you blinked at their lounging forms uncomprehendingly for a moment.

But a flash of brilliant red in the crowd had your focus redirecting to a teenage boy, the blond bombshell wading through the mass of people with a confident strut that indicated that he damn well knew he was hot shit. He drew all manner of eyes to his person, his mere presence demanding attention.

When he reached the lineup of women, they all greeted him as Billy, which was a familiar name seeing as it was the very same one belonging to the person who had beaten the ever-loving snot out of Steve at the Byers house during the mess with the Mind Flayer. And the odds that this Billy was the very same violent bully that the kids frequently bitched about were certainly plausible. After all, how many Billy’s could there possibly be in a small town like Hawkins?

“I haven’t seen you around before.” Someone drawled in a low baritone that was pleasing to the ear and you snapped out of your thoughts, quite suddenly realizing that you were the recipient of the comment when you blinked up at Billy, who had paused in front of your chair.

“You wouldn’t have. I’m new.” You said dumbly, because apparently stating the obvious was your first response when caught off-guard. Your only saving grace was Billy's decision not to comment on the utter stupidity of your blurted declaration, which was relieving because you weren't exactly used to speaking to anyone other than a select few in a manner that wasn’t strictly professional.

“And what would compel a beauty such as yourself to come to a place like Hawkins?” The tinted sunglasses that Billy wore didn’t do much to conceal the slow up and down movement of his eyes as he took in your figure. And, while his tone was light, there was clearly an insult toward the town hidden in his words of flattery.

“I’m visiting a friend.” You hummed, politely shutting your book and setting it aside because Billy seemed to be looking for a conversation.

“Oh really?” He mused, his boyish smile widening into something more predatory.

“You might know him? His name is Steve Harrington.” You sat up and folded your arms on your raised knees before propping your chin onto your arms, noting how Billy’s face flashed through several emotions before ultimately settling on a grin that was equal parts malicious and mischievous. “He invited me to stay with him over the summer.” You shrugged, peering up at Billy’s mildly alarming expression under the brim of your sun hat.

“We played basketball together before he graduated, so you could say that we’re acquainted.” Billy said disinterestedly, his focus shifting over to the empty lifeguard stand in a way that implied that their talk was about to be brought to an end. “I gotta get situated, but it was real nice to meet you…” He trailed off pointedly and it suddenly occurred to you that you never introduced yourself.

“Y/n. It was nice to meet you too, Billy.” You chirped, snorting when his brows rose, likely caught off-guard by the fact that you already knew who he was. “Your reputation precedes you.” you clarified, arm sliding out from under your chin in order to stick out your hand.

He looked down at the offered appendage for a beat, but ultimately accepted it. His hand easily engulfed yours, his tan skin calloused and warm as he raised your hand to his mouth, his smiling lips pressing against your knuckles in a kiss before he relinquished his grip.

“See you later, angel.” Billy purred, the farewell sounding an awful lot like a promise. The smirk that dominated his face was the embodiment of trouble, the teen smoothly turning on his heel to saunter his way around the pool’s edge before climbing onto the unattended tower with an ease that hinted at his familiarity with his surroundings.

You sat there for a long moment, staring after him as the skin where his lips had touched tingled pleasantly. Then the spell was broken by Dustin's high-pitched shriek and you managed to pry your gaze from the blond lifeguard in favor of searching the water for a familiar head of curly hair.

Prompt: Pool

#stranger things #st3 #season 3 #lifeguard billy hargrove #flirty billy hargrove #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #meet cute

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bowiebond · 2 years

Text

Will and Billy meet in the Void

“Just…close your eyes and try.”

El’s voice was slipping away as he did so, submerged in the cool water and eyes covered. He screwed his brows up, searching, trying to find something that resembled the realm El spoke of late at night, but it seemed fruitless.

“Try and find someone; someone who might feel like another part of you.”

His first thought was to find Jonathan. Or maybe Mike. Even El.

Yet he got stuck on her words. Someone who felt like another part of him. Or someone who might understand him. Who may have shared a similar life…

It was like a slap of cold air to the face when his eyes snapped open and his gaze was no longer covered but it was still black all around.

The water beneath his feet made him shiver as he looked around the endless space.

“Hello?” Would he just be watching someone else, or could he communicate with them? El’s powers were vast and strange, and coming into his own had been a struggle of figuring out what was the same and what was different. “Is anybody here?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Will whipped around in fright at the sudden voice and fell on his ass at how close the others body at been. With wide eyes, he recognised the bloody, mangled figure.

It was Max’s brother. Billy. The one the MindFlayer possessed last.

“You…you can see me?”

“I see all of you. All the time. I’m always there, you just…haven’t seen me yet.” Billy shrugged. His breathing sounded strained but he didn’t look to be in pain. Simply affected by his wounds in an unavoidable manner. He crouched down to offer his hand to the boy. “You’ve grown.”

“I…I have. Since we last met. I’m…” Will’s heart ached softly as he stood. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you from him. I know how violating it feels. To have him inside you. Using your body to hurt those you love.” The memories made Will’s stomach churn sour.

Billy offered him a half-hearted, bitter smile.

“I was more of a threat than a scrawny twelve year old.” He poked at his shoulder. Will was much broader, more muscled than he had been back then. “Trapping and burning it out of me…The night at the sauna proved that even if you tried, you couldn’t have done it. Not with me. Not with him inside me.”

“If we had tried harder, if El had more time to help you break free—“

“I would have died anyway.” Billy said knowingly, shutting Will up as he gave the man sad, brown eyes. “If you think for a second I wouldn’t have put my life on the line for Max, for any of you, you’re wrong. You were kids. You should have had the chance to be.”

Billy sighed wearily and reached out. The open wounds of his hands didn’t bleed, but Will wanted to recoil at the touch just from how grotesque it was. He refused, and stood there as Billy cupped his cheek.

“You deserved to be a kid, Will. I’m sorry you didn’t get to be.”

“Did you?” Will asked in return, taking his hand gently, and the endless black around them seemed to burst with colour. Sunshine and blue waters; dreary cream-walled bedrooms; teal graffitied lockers smeared with slurs; the colour of purple and blue bruises and bright light of hospital rooms; fireworks and darkness.

Billy’s eyes shone.

“Once. On a beach. I was a kid then.” He said hoarsely and Will looked at him with heartbreaking sympathy.

“You were always a kid. Nobody thought to treat you like one though. That’s not your fault. That’s on adults who would have been there.” He had been told the same countless times by Jonathan, his mother, even Hopper. Everything that happened to him, it wasn’t his fault.

“It’s too late for me.” Billy closed his eyes and as two teardrops fell, one catching his cheek, a beach surrounded them. The sand was warm beneath Will’s feet.

“Billy!” The pair turned to the woman, blond and dressed in white like an angel. She smiled at Billy and he smiled back.

“It’s too late for me to have the life I wanted. The freedom I deserved. But I have this. This one memory…and I’m okay living in it for the rest eternity because it’s got everything I ever wanted.”

“Your mom?” Will understood that. He could live in an afterlife with his mother, his brother and El forever and be content. He turned his eyes back to Billy but he was gone. “Billy?”

“Mom! Did you see that?” Will followed the voice and squinted as a small boy ran towards the woman, a surfboard under his arm. He dropped it halfway to wrap his arms around her and she laughed.

She curled around him and kissed his head, kind and loving, and Will’s eyes began to well at the scene against his own will. The young boy caught his eyes from beneath the safety of his mother’s embrace, and smiled softly.

“If I ever have a sister, mom, I’d want her to know I love her a lot. That I’d try every day to be a good brother to her.”

“A sister? You’re asking too much of me.” The older woman laughed. “You want a sister, Billy?”

“Yeah. One with red hair and lots of freckles. She’s gotta be cool too.” Will laughed softly despite his wet eyes.

“Oh dear, I’ll have to see about that…” She pulled from the hug and Will smiled softly at Billy who waved at him. The woman turned her gaze to him and he awaited her response.

“Who are you waving to, Billy?” She couldn’t see him.

“A friend.” He turned to his mother with a grin. “Hey, can I have a sister with superpowers too? I think that would be awesome.”

“With superpowers? Let’s focus on getting you a sister without them first.” She laughed and it echoed as the scene began to fade, like a movie coming to a close.

“Billy? Billy!” Will called and he heard the young boys laughter all around him before he blinked and he was back. He took in a sharp inhale, deepening it as he pulled the blindfold off and looked up at El.

He exhaled slowly.

“…Where’s Max right now? I gotta tell her something.”

#billy hargrove #will byers #the williams hehe #billy and max #stranger things

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mrspellcaster · 2 years

Text

THE BEE AND HER FLOWERS

- Steve Harrington x Nancy’s childhood bsf F!Reader

summary: reader is nancy’s childhood best friend that is returning to Hawkins after a few years. Hawkins is slightly more handsome than she remembers word count : 2.9k

warnings: intermediate mommy issues for reader (mom disappeared), karen wheeler <3, me pushing my ronance agenda, angst for a moment, swearing, use of “baby” non romantically, just pretend with me here

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first chapter of this series it truly makes me so happy i can’t express my appreciation, i’m sending everyone all my love and good wishes. thanks for reading !

1/3 2/3 3/3

That same Wednesday in August you met Steve you also found out your new home was adjacent to Max Mayfield’s. It was your assumption the reason you hadn’t noticed the fiery haired girl with a temper to rival yours, was because she, also like you, was an unsanctioned member of the Wheeler household.

You liked her. She was bright, fierce like Nancy with a similar level of composure. Max also had a similar dynamic with her mother as you and your father, with the parent always working but a pair inseparably tied together by loss and love.

The next morning you again found yourself at the Wheeler residence.

At this hour you decided it would be better to use the front door, which just as you assumed was unlocked.

You closed it gently behind you and caught sight of curly blonde hair, bigger than you remembered, bouncing around the kitchen. Karen Wheeler.

She turned around at your quiet hello, so very beautiful and so very happy to see you.

More quickly than you would’ve thought possibly she has you wrapped in her arms. “Oh my dear!” She rocks you side to side. “Nancy told me you were coming back and I am just so glad to see you.” She leans backward to look at you, “And good gracious aren’t you gorgeous.” You turn sheepish under her fawning eyes.

Karen’s eyes shine as she places a delicate hand on your cheek,”I know your mother would be so proud of you.”

There it is.

Karen Wheeler was one of the few people who knew of your mother’s disappearance. Of course when you and Nancy had become friends your mothers’ bonded, you’d both made sure of it.

Your mom was always the unconventional one. A self proclaimed medium who you whole heartedly believed in. Who you knew loved you and saw you. And maybe that wasn’t anything magic beyond a mother’s intuition but she was everything to you.

Her break came in the form of many visions. Children hurting, hurting others, some great unknown evil. Pain in Hawkins, a terrible danger looming overhead, or perhaps underneath.

She couldn’t take it. Not in the town she decided to call her home, where she decided to raise a family, to raise you.

You remember the night she came into your room when you were sleeping. It was too dark to tell but you knew from her voice she was crying. She had whispered I love you over and over again, I’m sorry.

You always wondered what would’ve happened if you’d done more than sleepily tell her you loved her back. Your father never let you blame yourself, when you went downstairs the next morning he hid his tears and within the next month you moved to the city.

Mrs Wheeler took another long look at you then swiftly turned around to dab at her eyes. There was a brief pause as she collected herself, placed her hands on the front of her apron, then she decided to go back to the eggs she was frying. “Breakfast will be ready in a second if your hungry. Nancy hasn’t been down yet so I think she’s still sleeping but she shouldn’t mind you waking her. The boys are still asleep in the basement.”

You hope your voice is half as grateful as you feel right now. “Thank you Mrs Wheeler.” Its a moment where you wish you were better with your words, but at her look you understand she sees exactly how you feel.

You get up a few stairs before you hear her voice again,”Baby I hope you already know but this house is your home whenever you want it to be.”

The love you see in her, the patience and kindness. What a woman. “Thank you Mrs. Wheeler, you’re too good to me.” Her laugh is like music.

When you reached the top of the stairs you were hit with a wave of immense deja vu, so much you felt like staggering backwards. The hallway you ran up and down over and over as a kid, the door leading to your safe space, the carpet where you scrapped your knees.

You knock firmly on Nancy’s door and hear her groan, “Leave me.” In your head you can imagine her face half buried in a pillow and are met with that exact sight as you open the door.

Gently you close the it behind you, Nancy lifts her head, all bedhead and rumpled clothing at the soft noise. She gives you a tired smile and places her face back into the pillow, “Beee.”

There’s a beat before she rolls over to make room for you on the bed and your comfortable enough to climb under the covers next to her.

You look around her room, the Tom Cruise poster you got her, the still pink walls, her dainty bed frame. A large sigh escapes you and Nancy turns her head to peek one eye at you. You fill the silence as you stare at her ceiling,”I missed your mom.”

“I know. She missed you too.” She comes to rest her head on your shoulder. “Not as much as me though Bumblebee.” You snort a laugh. “How are you feeling? About being back and all.”

Another big breath. “I don’t know how to describe it. I know it’s stupid, but it was easier to imagine my mom stayed in Hawkins when we moved. Like she would always be here on the other side waiting for us, for me.”

Nancy takes your hand and you huff away the your heartache. “Anyway, tell me why was Steve Hairy Harrington in your basement last night?”

You feel her hushed laughter on your neck, “It’s “the hair” Bee.”

“Oops.” You couldn’t care less.

She chooses her words carefully, “It’s not- I’m very grateful for him you know? He’s been very helpful with the kids always watching their backs making sure they’re safe. It wasn’t any bodies fault we broke up, there were things, big things we couldn’t have expected or known how to deal with. But he’s a friend, he’s always gonna be a friend to me.”

An inexplicable weight on your chest is lifted, you try not to think about it. You push her lightly,” So what I’m hearing is Nancy Wheeler is on the market.”

She is silent for a moment and you look down to find her blushing furiously. You turn so suddenly you knock her head from your shoulder. “You have a crush! Nance that’s the best news I’ve gotten since they decided to make a sequel to a new hope!”

You didn’t know it was possible for someone to turn so red, but there was a sadness, a shame in her eyes that made your heartache return tenfold.

Your voice becomes much quieter, softer. “Nance?”

She looks up at you with big watery eyes. “Do you think you could ever hate me?” Your heart breaks into a million pieces.

You wrap her in your arms and hold her tightly to your chest with a tone of voice that leaves no room for doubt. “Never. I could never hate you Nancy, not now not ever.”

“Even if I liked girls?” Her voice is so quiet.

“Oh baby no, I will always love you, always. I love you so much, I would walk through hell for you. Fuck I would fold paper 8 times for you.” She laughs, it’s watery, and you can’t help but hold her tighter. “You’re my best friend Nance, I’d probably still have your back even if you killed someone.”

She holds you tighter back. “I love you.”

You smile brightly at her, “I know. What else is new?”

Nancy shoves you gently with her shocking strength and counts off a ridiculous list, “I shoot guns, I’m probably on a government watch list, I fought a giant monster made of flesh and bones.”

You laugh and she smiles at you. Again her voice goes quiet, “The girl from the basement yesterday, Robin.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Now probably wasn’t the right time to say you’d clocked them as soon as you saw them in the same room.

Nancy’s head falls back dramatically on her pillow. She sighs dreamily, “Isn’t she?”

“I think she likes you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I saw the way she was looking at you Nance.” The way they both blushed under the others stare, the way they spoke each-others names.

You’re smiling at each other so brightly, a battle of two suns.

Nancy’s expression turns more playful, an eyebrow raises, “And I saw the way Steve looked at you.”

You bite your lip to keep your expression neutral. “Isn’t that like girl code or something?” For some reason you can’t meet her eyes.

She’s laughing at you, “You guys are like my best friends. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t want to see you happy?”

You turn back to her, “Nance, I think he’s the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

Nancy smiles smugly,” And he’s a great kisser.”

You whack her with a pillow.

————-

The second time you see Steve Harrington you’re sitting on the top of your house. He was pulling into Max’s driveway in his pretty maroon BMW and you spotted Robin in the passenger’s seat.

You watched them bicker about something animatedly before Robin noticed you, abruptly stopped talking; Steve didn’t. You watch her say his name, once twice until she got his attention, and his eyes followed hers straight to you.

His mouth opens slightly and you’re betting what little money you have the sound that escaped him was a soft, “Oh.”

You climb down using the back porch and see Max at the same time locking her door. She takes off her walkman when she hears you call her name.

Steve rolls his window down when you both reach the car and places his elbow on the frame. “Hi- Hey! It’s good to- It’s good to see you! Here, where you live.” You lean over him with a hand on the roof of his car when Max climbs in, and he blanks. “At your house.”

Robin slaps him on the shoulder

and he yelps. “Smooth.” He glares at her and she raises her hands in defense,”No seriously Romeo, I think this is some of your best work.”

Steve frowns and tries again, “We’re gonna drop Max off at the arcade on our way to work. You should stop by, to see us sometime, If you want, no pressure, I just, you know, would like to see you. But don’t feel like you have to-“

“Okay I will.” His big eyes blink up at you and your easy response.

Maybe you were wrong. In the daylight his eyes looked more hazel than the brown you’d first thought they were. You think it would be nice to spend a long time picking out the different shades in them.

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve.” You lean in closer to the window to say your goodbyes, “Bye Robin, bye Max.”

You take a step back. It takes him a minute but at both Max and Robin’s responding waves he says bye back airily. Steve wonders when he got so breathless.

His car pulls out slowly, stuttering on the turf road and you watch as it disappears behind a corner, out of sight, heavily in mind.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped pacing for the past 30 minutes. Not since he invited you to Family Video, his job, where he works.

Or maybe he didn’t invite you, maybe he did the opposite, maybe he was too insistent on the idea that you did not need to come. Maybe he should’ve been more selfish, left it at he wanted to see you. Curse his big dumb heart.

Robin’s guess was that your definition of sometime was different than his; which in his head he could make sense of, his heart on the other hand couldn’t.

It was 5pm, their shift started at 11:45. That had to mean you weren’t coming “sometime”, now was sometime wasn’t it?

But Steve was just as afraid you would show up. That you would see him and his five a’clock shadow, him too tired and restless for his usual charm. He tried to make peace with himself that you weren’t coming, and that was okay, and his heart had no business aching quite as it was right now.

Still when the store’s bell rang he nearly broke his neck only to greet a hobbling elderly couple.

The second time the bell rang Steve was turned around, organizing the same few tapes for the twelfth time that day, he didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to turn around to see someone that wasn’t you.

Whoever it was they rang the desk bell, something Steve was unaware they had and he was forced to turn around. “Hi. Welcome to family video-“

You.

“Hi.” You. Smiling at him so beautifully. Steve thinks the room has grown ten times brighter, he wonders if the weather can explain it, maybe the clouds opened up for a moment to bathe you in a halo of light. Probably.

Steve wasn’t lying about the vest, if it’s possible you think it makes him even more handsome, it compliments his skin tone, his warm eyes.

All the air leaves him in one rushed breath, “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” You look down at your hands you’ve placed on the counter. “I’m sorry it took so long- I, I took uh, Mike’s bike here and I wasn’t exactly sure where here is.”

“No, no I’m just- I’m glad your here.” And you smile at him so brightly he feels his heart flutter in his chest.

Robin comes out of the back room,”Steve are you still pouting she’s not-“ Her eyes widen into saucers when she sees you. “You’re here.”

You nod still smiling,”I’m here.”

She sighs in relief, “Thank god I was afraid Steve was gonna start crying like a baby.” You laugh, and Steve rolls his eyes but the tips of his ears redden.

That’s his favorite sound he thinks, your laugh. He thinks it’s a shame he went most of his life without hearing it.

Robin comes around the counter to wrap you in a quick hug. “Let me know if you need anything, or just want a break from this idiot.” You nod again and watch her return to the back room.

“You see how mean she is to me?” Steve tries to keep a straight face but your smile is so contagious he can’t help himself. He shakes his head still grinning. “Here I want to show you something.”

You follow him as he leads you to one of the few isles. He’s warm, you feel it radiating off him in waves. You like standing next to him, it feels like the right place for you to be; a moth to his flame.

Neither of you are sure who’s fault it is the two of you end up standing so close together. And neither of you want to move away.

Your shoulder brushes his arm every time you breathe. He smells so good, something fresh and clean and woody and undeniably Steve.

“I thought you would appreciate this.” You look away from his face, hoping he didn’t notice your staring. He did, it’s half the reason he’s blushing so hard.

The Science fiction isle, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life, or now maybe the second. Blade Runner, The Star Wars trilogy, ET, The Terminator, Back to the Future ..Weird Science?

You pick up the tape, squinting to read the back synopsis.

Steve’s already looking at you when you look up at him, staring at you so intensely you feel warmer than you should inside the air conditioned store.

He cocks his head playfully offended,”Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it.”

You bite your lip and dark eyes follow the movement, “I haven’t seen it.”

It’s hard for him to pull his eyes away from your mouth. But he does, only to take the tape from your hands, big warm fingers brushing yours, and hold it next to his head.

“This, this is peak cinema. It’s a classic I don’t know how you haven’t seen it.”

You take another look at the cover, “Peak cinema huh.”

“You gotta trust me on this one.” Something flickers in his eyes. “Or you don’t. You could come over and watch it sometime if you want.”

“You must really want me around Harrington.” Steve likes the way you say his name, likes the way you’re grinning at him.

He leans over you, grinning back,”Maybe I just want to prove you wrong.”

Hot breath fans over your face, Steve can feel yours on his neck. Neither of you mean to go quiet, but neither of you can think to speak when you can hardly breathe.

A large crashing sound comes from behind the counter and the spell is broken. You take a step away from Steve and he wants to chase you, chase your warmth.

Robin stands there sheepishly and nobody is safe from the embarrassment.

Her voice is a few pitches too high,”Did I hear someone say movie night?”

part 3

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