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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Stick Around

Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been searching for your soulmate your whole life. Maybe you’ve just been looking in the wrong place.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, cheating/infidelity (not by a main character I promise) mild swearing, excessive use of italics

|Age 20|

“You can’t seriously still be reading that stuff,” Oscar says.

You peer at him over the top of your magazine.

“What stuff?” You ask, playing innocent.

“Your horoscope,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Haven’t you outgrown that yet?”

You shrug, directing your gaze back to the page in front of you. Today, you should avoid the color pink and embrace your skepticism. Oscar’s doing enough of the last part for the both of you. You could gain a great deal of information from social interactions. That’s helpful- you’ve been in search of some gossip. Your soulmate is just a click away- wait, no, that’s an ad. You huff and set the magazine down on the table. Oscar nods in agreement.

“I just think maybe it’s better to live your life without worrying about what the stars say,” Oscar says, waving his hands around in a way that you think is supposed to represent the stars. “Just, like… do what you want to do.”

“I do,” you mutter dryly. “Doesn’t hurt to have some advice, though.”

The two of you have always been like this. Oscar is a skeptic, you’re a believer. He calls it being easy to brainwash, says it in a teasing way that makes you glare at him every time. He’s taken it as his responsibility to keep you from falling for things. You’ve told him time and time again that you’re fine on your own. You just like the idea of predestiny, that what’s going to happen was always meant to.

Oscar is just worried you’ll join the first cult you cross paths with.

|Age 5|

It’s the day after you turn 5 when you first hear the word soulmate. Sol-meight. You sound it out through your lips, sticky with jam from your breakfast. Your best friend at the time, a girl whose name you’ve long since forgotten, had said it.

“S’when you’re meant to be,” she explains, in that all knowing tone that only little kids who know nothing at all seem to have. “Like, my mum and dad say they’re soulmates.”

Oscar, who’s sitting next to you, scoffs. “Everyone’s parents say that. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

He’s taller than you, even sitting down, hair cut short after one of his sisters stuck gum in it a few days ago. His cheeks are rosy red, and there’s cream cheese on his nose. Years later, Oscar’s face will be one of the first ones you ever remember meeting. Right now, he’s just the boy in your class whose mother knows your mother, and because of that, he’s the boy who rides to school with you in the backseat. He’s not the worst, you guess. He’s… okay. Sort of just… always there.

“Is too!” Your friend says, shaking her head, pigtails bouncing. “Mum says there’s signs.”

“What kinda signs?” You ask, and Oscar turns to look at you in disbelief.

She shrugs. “Dunno. I’ll ask later.”

She comes back to the breakfast table the next day with a magazine page, torn haphazardly and slightly crumpled. On it is a list of signs someone could be your soulmate. The two of you pore over the page at every available opportunity for at least a week, barely able to read all the words.

Your friend forgets about soulmates a month later and moves on to an obsession with Barbie dolls. You carry the magazine page with you for years after that, until it’s worn and falling apart. Then you copy down the list into a safer place, worried you’ll lose it forever. 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate, written with magic marker on pink construction paper and stowed away in your desk.

|Age 10|

“I hate olives,” you sneer, staring at the very last slice of pizza.

It’s a birthday party. You can’t for the life of you understand why there’s pizza with olives on it. Olives don’t belong on pizza- not much does, in your opinion. Just pepperoni, really. Maybe a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese, if you’re feeling fancy.

Katy, one of your classmates, is standing next to you. “I love olives. Here, I’ll pick them off for you and you can have the last slice.”

The pizza still tastes a bit like olives in the end, probably baked into the cheese, but it’s better than it would’ve been. Katy is your best friend after that. The two of you are inseparable from the moment you get to school until the moment you leave. You beg your mothers for sleepovers on the weekends, for day trips during holiday breaks. YouandKaty. Your names melt together until they become one.

Oscar still rides to school with you in the morning. Sometimes, Katy does too. Katy doesn’t like Oscar. She doesn’t like most boys, calls them gross. Since Katy thinks boys are gross, you do too.

“Be nice to Oscar,” your mother tells you one morning. “He’s not done anything to you.”

You’re in the backseat of the car, on the way to his house. “He’s a boy. Boys are gross.”

Your mother sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose. She says your name sternly, and you shrink in your seat. When Oscar gets in, you say hello and force a smile.

Oscar’s the one who finds you crying on the playground. You thought you’d chosen a better hiding place, really- nobody had bugged you in your spot between the two large myrtle trees. But Oscar finds you anyways. You can’t even bring yourself to tell him to go away, too busy feeling sorry for yourself.

“Wha’s wrong?” He asks.

His cheeks are red- he’s likely been running around with the other boys. You shrug, pulling up another clump of grass and letting it fall from your fingers. Oscar sighs, scuffs his toe in the dirt.

“Katy doesn’t wanna be friends anymore,” you say, rubbing at your bare knee. “She says I’m not cool enough.”

Katy likes olives. You don’t. It’s on the soulmate list. You’re meant to be best friends.

Oscar’s quiet for a moment. Then- “That’s stupid. You’re like, the coolest person I know.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Shut up.”

“M’serious,” he says. He holds his hand out to you. “Wanna come play cricket with the gross boys?”

You take his hand, wipe your tears with your other hand. “Yeah. I do.”

|Age 12|

“Are you and Dad soulmates?” You ask your mother one morning, before you even leave the house.

She’s standing at the counter, a piece of toast in her hand, half eaten. Her coffee is half drank, too.

She tilts her head at you. “What do you mean, love?”

“Like, when you met, did you just know he was the one? Did it feel meant to be?”

She laughs. “Oh, god no. We were polar opposites. Barely spoke to each other for the first year after we met.”

You stare at her in surprise. “What changed?”

She sighs, wistfully, staring into her mug. “He asked me if I wanted an orange. I said yes. And when he handed it to me, he’d peeled it for me.”

You blink. “Because you hate peeling oranges.”

“I do,” she agrees. “Love isn’t just a feeling, it’s an action. I think love is more about the choices we make and the things we remember about each other than whatever is written in the stars, honey.”

|Age 15|

There’s a boy on the football team- Ryan. Ryan has dark, curly hair and long, long eyelashes and this smile that makes your heart melt and your brain all fuzzy. Ryan doesn’t like olives, either, but he has a birthmark on the back of his right hand in the shape of a lopsided heart, and if you squint hard enough, you have one that matches on the back of your left arm. You stare at in the mirror for hours after he points it out, his hand on your arm.

You stare at your lips in the mirror for hours, too, after he kisses you for the first time. You think maybe you look different. You must. You’d never been kissed before, but Ryan hadn’t minded.

You go on group dates with him, because you’re nervous and your parents think you’re a bit too young to really be dating. You go to the mall, the movies, the diner down the street from the school. It’s your first taste of freedom.

Oscar asks you if you really like Ryan, like- “like like him?”, one day when you’re sitting in his backyard. Your mothers are inside, drinking wine. His sisters are in the pool, you’re laying out in the sun. Oscar sits under an umbrella and squints at the brightness of the world around him.

“Yeah,” you say, in the same tone you’d say duh or of course. “I think he’s my soulmate.”

“Why’s that?” Oscar asks tilting his head.

“We have matching birthmarks,” you say, again, in the same tone.

Oscar forms his mouth into a little o shape. You squint at him, pushing yourself to sit up.

“Why’re you so worried about it, anyways?”

“M’not,” Oscar says, crossing his leg over his knee. “S’just. He’s kind of an arse, isn’t he?”

He whispers the curse word so his sisters won’t hear. Oscar’s big into karting and racing right now, and the older boys at the tracks swear like sailors. There’s a swear jar stuffed to the brim sitting on the kitchen counter inside, right next to the half empty wine bottle.

Ryan is a bit of an arse, you’ll admit. To almost everyone.

“He’s nice to me,” you shrug. “He brought me flowers, yesterday. Isn’t that what matters?”

Oscar shrugs. He doesn’t ask about Ryan again.

Oscar is the one who brings you flowers when Ryan cheats on you and the other girl tells the whole school. He brings them to your bedroom door and you let him in. He sits with you, even as you cry, the door open the parentally required six inches. He doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t tell you he warned you. He just stays.

When Oscar moves to England, you wave goodbye with a smile. Then you lock yourself in your room and bawl your eyes out for a week straight, harder than you ever did about Ryan.

|Age 18|

Your university roommate, Emma, was born on the same day as you, at the exact same time. Down to the minute. You find it out on your second day of living together. It’s fate, kismet, meant to be. The stars and planets were aligned exactly the same way when you both took your first breaths.

Oscar laughs when you tell him, though he does admit that it’s a pretty cool coincidence. You’re chatting with him on the phone, telling him about your first week of university. You talk a lot, despite the distance. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever.

You and Emma aren’t in any classes together- you have completely different majors. Despite this, you still become fast friends. You study together in your room and in the library, meet up for meals, and join a book club together. When Emma gets invited to her very first uni party, she brings you along with her. Your closets become shared.

You visit her family over the winter break for a week. She lives closer to the beach, and you love getting to soak up the sun with her and meet all the childhood friends you’ve heard stories about. Oscar comes home for his break and texts you, wondering when you’ll be back and if you’ll even have time for me, or are you too cool for me now?

You tackle him with a hug when you see him, standing at the kitchen counter in your house when you get there. He’s laughing and pushing you off of him, acting like he didn’t miss you just as much. You know he did. It’s written all over the smile on his face.

Emma visits your family later in the break, and that’s when you have your first fight.

“He’s definitely in love with you,” she insists from her spot on the air mattress on your floor.

She’s talking about Oscar, who she just met today. You’d brought her with to a barbecue at his family’s house. You’re regretting that choice. She’s spent all night afterwards pointing out all the signs that he’s in love with you- his hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes, the way he smiled at you.

“He’s not,” you say, cheeks burning hot. “He’s- we’re friends.”

“Friends, right. Guys and girls can’t be just friends,” she says.

“Yes, they can!” You say indignantly.

Emma ignores you, rolls over, and goes to sleep. She leaves for home the next day- not earlier than she was supposed to, but it feels weird anyways. When you get back to campus, things feel different. You never really talk about the fight, though there wasn’t much to talk about, anyways. It’s not like she’s mean to you- the two of you still hang out, still see each other often. But Emma makes new friends, and you do too, and you stop doing everything together. It’s alright, you suppose, it’s just…

You were supposed to be destined to be friends. But soulmates shouldn’t be this easy to let go of. It’s written in the stars, it’s shouldn’t fade away like this.

Months ago, you and Emma had talked about spending the holiday break somewhere far away- somewhere tropical, exotic, so grown up and chic. But it hasn’t come up lately, and then she mentions a trip she’s taking with some friends from her classes. You book a flight to England instead and see Oscar in his new home for the first time.

You have new roommates next year. None of them have the same birthdate as you. You think that’s okay.

|Age 21|

There’s a stain on your dress, someone’s wine or sangria or cranberry juice that they’d been too clumsy with. You suppose it could be yours- you’re really not sure. It’s your fault for wearing such a light color to a club like this.

It’s your birthday. You’ve been able to drink for a few years, but it’s still your birthday, and for once, Oscar is there for it. Or really, you’re there for it, there being England. You’re on yet another trip to visit him, money saved and scraped together from your job on your breaks from school. Oscar helped pay for the plane ticket as a birthday present, and your parents got you a new luggage set to take along.

Oscar’s disappeared- at the bar, you remember, closing out his tab. You check your phone- 2:22 am. It’s really time you should be headed home-

You’re jostled from behind, and moments later, you feel cool liquid deep down your back. You turn, and there’s a guy standing there, sandy blonde hair and a terrified look on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, British accent smoothing the words over. “I didn’t mean to-“

“S’okay,” you tell him, though you wrinkle your nose at the feeling of what was likely beer running down your back. “The dress was stained already.”

The man sighs. “It’s not okay- let me make it up to you. Can I buy you a drink?”

You frown. “I think I’m supposed to be leaving. My friend just went to pay.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.” The guy’s eyes light up, then. “Wait, how about I take you on a date?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. 2:22, you remember. Angel numbers. You are in the right place at the right time.

“I’m only here for a couple more days,” you say, cautiously.

“I’m free tomorrow if you are,” he suggest. “Well, more like later today, but-“

“Yeah, okay!” You’d at brightly, and hopefully not too eagerly. “I’m free.”

He’s holding out his phone for you to put your number in when Oscar pops up. He looks between the two of you with raised brows. “Everything alright?”

“He’s taking me on a date later today,” you explain, tapping the last number. “Because he spilled beer on my dress. Can you check if I put my number in right? My fingers aren’t working right.”

Oscar laughs, leans forward, and nods. “That’s right.”

You don’t remember getting back to Oscar’s apartment. You barely even remember the guy from the bar until Oscar brings it up that morning, a teasing tone in his voice. Suddenly you’re checking your phone every minute, looking for a text from him. You name him Angel Boy, mentioning the angel numbers you’d seen just before you bumped into him. Oscar, well versed in your obsession with things that are just meant to be, rolls his eyes affectionately.

When the sun is trending towards the horizon and Angel Boy still hasn’t called or even texted you, your mood sours. You plant yourself on the couch, an episode of some stupid reality show playing. You’re not paying attention, only staring at your phone.

By the time 7:00 rolls around, you know it’s a lost cause. You can hear Oscar in the other room, shuffling around, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. There’s got to be someone out there who’s actually meant to be yours, right? One of these times the signs will be right, and it’ll all work out. It’s just… you’re getting discouraged.

Oscar appears in front of you and slips your phone out of your hands. He shoves it into his own pocket. He hands you a jacket, one of his, and you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he says, as he reaches to brush the tears from your cheeks. “Just because he’s not going to text you, doesn’t mean you should just sit here all night.”

You could cry even harder at that, at the fact that Oscar cares enough to try and break you out of your moping. You don’t really want to go out, but he has this hopeful look on his face. Both of you don’t need to be sad today. So you stand up, pull the jacket over your arms, and take a deep breath. You walk out of the apartment, your arm linked with his.

The ramen bar you go to is probably better than anywhere the guy would’ve taken you, anyways. If you’re being honest, the company is better, too.

|Age 22|

Oscar flies you out to the Netherlands to see him race. You’d been at the Melbourne Grand Prix, of course, but he’d insisted he’d fly you out for at least one race in his first season- promised it years ago, when Formula One was just a dream on his bucket list. Zandvoort works well- it fits into your schedule, and the summer break starts right afterwards, so he’ll actually have time to spend with you.

In the days leading up to the race, he’s extremely busy and extremely apologetic about it. You reassure him that you understand, that you knew what you were getting into, knew he’d be busy. You wander around the paddock, say hi to Logan- who you know only slightly better than all the other drivers- and keep yourself entertained. You spend time with Oscar when you get the chance- between interviews and practices, stolen moments of privacy in his driver’s room. It’s nice, it really is, but it’s also… weird.

You’ve been thinking a lot, lately, about what your mother once said about soulmates and love. For all the soul searching you’ve done, all the stars you’ve tried to read, you’ve come up empty. You’ve resigned yourself to the fact that maybe there’s just not anyone out there for you. Maybe you’re not meant to have a soulmate.

The thing about letting go of that pressure, though, is that it leaves space. Not a hole, not an emptiness, just… space. Room for other things to sneak in and make their home and grow. Somewhere along the lines- you don’t know when, maybe it’s been there all along- a seed had been planted. Now the roots are digging cracks in your heart, the leaves are shading out every other thought, and there are flowers blooming.

For months, now, your heart has been jumping in your chest every time Oscar texts you. You can’t wipe the grin off your face when he calls. You’ve been following every race, waking up at odd hours to cheer him on, sending him selfies with the tv to prove it to him, to make sure he knows you’re watching. You feel a little crazy, because suddenly he’s all you can think about.

Maybe love is about choices. You start making them, start choosing him. The only question now is if he’ll choose you, too.

The whole weekend is chaos. Oscar crashes in practice, sending himself and your heart spinning. He’s okay, thank god- though his mother texts you frantically, asking if he’s really okay. Then the race itself is even more chaotic, between the rain and the crashes and all the stuff in between. Oscar ends up in the points, though not as high as he’d hoped to be. You cheer for him either way.

You stick around the paddock all the way through his debrief, even when he tries to say you can head back to the hotel without him. Eventually, you leave with him and Lando, his arm around your shoulders the whole way to the car that’s waiting. It’s nice. He’s warm. Lando is making small talk, trying to get to know his teammates best friend, the one Oscar never shuts up about. You feel your face grow hot and hope Oscar doesn’t notice.

In the hotel lobby, Oscar makes a stop at the complimentary snack bar. Lando says something about Kim, his trainer, getting after him, which Oscar ignores. The three of you ride up together in the elevator, with Lando demanding most of your attention as he begs for stories about Oscar as a kid. Oscar’s quiet- you wonder if the weekend is weighing on him more than he’d previously let on.

You say goodnight to Lando and then Oscar scans you into the hotel room. Two beds, a couch, and a balcony that the two of you had eaten breakfast on that morning. You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, flopping down onto your back.

Something lands on your stomach, softly. You look down, and your throat suddenly feels tight. It’s an orange. It’s a peeled orange. Oscar is standing at the window, pulling the curtains closed. His back is to you.

You blink, picking it up delicately. “You peeled it for me.”

“You hate peeling them,” he says. It’s very matter of fact. The same tone he’d use to say duh or of course.

You stare at his silhouette, the slope of his shoulders, the soft puff of his hair. You sit up, stomach turning. Suddenly, you need to be close to him. You stand up, orange in hand, pulling one of the pieces from it. You hold it lightly between your fingertips. Love is an action.

You hold it out to him. He takes it, smiles down at you.

“I love you, you know that?” You say, before you lose the courage.

“Yeah, I love you too,” he says, giving you a goofy look.

“No, like-“ you pause. Maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you should just-

But it’s too late, because a wave of understanding washes over his face. His eyes go wide, lips parting. His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, the orange slice still in his fingers.

“Oh,” he says, voice cracking. His face splits into a grin. “Jeez, took you long enough to catch up, didn’t it?”

When he drops the orange slice on the floor so he can grab your face and kiss you, you’re somehow still so startled that you also drop the rest of the orange. That’s okay, though. He’ll peel another one for you without you even having to ask. Stars light up behind your eyes at the feeling of his lips on yours, and you realize then that maybe soulmates are just the people who choose to stick around.

…..

Deep in your desk in your childhood home, there’s a piece of paper. It’s been unfolded and refolded a million times. At the top, the title says, 15 Signs He’s Your Soulmate in messy, primary school handwriting. You pull it from your drawer and uncap the gel pen that sits in the cup on the desk.

At the bottom of the list, beneath your faded magic marker scrawl, you add:

#16: He peels your oranges.

#16: childhood best friend??

#16: YOU JUST KNOW

little bit of a different format for this one. as always, feel free to check out my other fics and tell me what you think!

#oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #f1 fluff #soulmates #f1 soulmate fic #oscar piastri x reader #Spotify #honeywrites #Oscar piastri

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rogueddie · 1 year

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"Something is really wrong with Steve," Robin says.

The party look up, startled. They wait for her to continue, but she starts pacing nervously. It immediately sets the kids on edge, glancing at each other uneasy.

"What do you mean?" Dustin eventually speaks up. "Is he... ill?"

"No, no, it's... his parents came home, right?"

"Yeah, we know," Max snorts. "Dustins mom had to ban him from the house because he wouldn't leave."

"He can't avoid them forever," Dustin points out. "I get that it's hard to talk to them when you have to lie all the time but they're, like, paying for all his shit."

"No they aren't!" Robins voice cracks. "They cut him off years ago! Dude, he hates them and now he's writing up a resignation letter so he can go work for his dad."

"Why is that a bad thing?" El asks, eyes a little wide.

"He'd have to train for a few months in New York for one."

"New York?!" All of them burst out. They all try to speak at once, loud and panicked. They're so loud that Hopper bursts out, confused and tired and panicked.

"What the hell is going on?" He snaps.

The kids all look a little guilty. El stands up so he looks at her. "We are worried about Steve."

"What? Jeez, that's what you're yelling about?"

"He's moving away!" Mike snaps. "To New York! For months!"

Hopper frowns at him like he's not making sense. "New York?"

"To work with his dad," Robin adds. "I didn't know if I should talk him out-"

"They're back?" Hopper asks. He's gone still, voice devoid of emotion and dangerously calm. "How long?"

"A month? Maybe more, it-"

"And they're home now? Do you know if Steve is there with them? It's not one of his shifts, is it? That'd make it easier."

"What? No, he's home. Make what easier?"

Hopper ignores the question, grabbing his coat and shoes. "Stay here, I won't be long."

He ignores the questions that grow frantic and panicked when he picks up his gun, stomping out the door at a fast pace. Robin is yelling from the door as he climbs into his car. She's too taken aback to even begin to think of how to answer to avalanche of questions the kids throw at her.

Hopper gets to the Harrington house in record time, having sped just a little to get there. Mrs Harrington is the one who opens the door and looks a little guilty when she sees him.

"Where is he?" Hopper asks.

She steps back, letting him in. "In his room."

Hopper pushes past her, taking the stairs two at a time. Steve is sat at his desk when he enters the room without knocking, head snapping up and looking startled. He looks a little ashamed when he realizes that it's Hopper.

"Hop," Steves voice is strained. He frowns when Hopper ignores him, pulling his closet open. "Uh, Hopper? What are you doing?"

"Taking you home," Hopper mutters. He pulls out the three bags he knows Steve has been keeping hidden, just in case. "Come on, pack up."

"I can't just-"

"Yes you can. Pack. Up."

Steve only hesitates for a moment. He slowly fills up one with his few sentimental things and some things he considers important (his scoops uniform, the drawings from Will). Hopper stuffs the other two with clothes. It doesn't take them long.

"I'll come back for the rest, if you want any of it," Hopper hands Steve his car keys, waving him toward the stairs. "Wait in the car. I'll be a minute."

Steve hesitates at the door, glancing between Hopper and his mom. He leaves though, doesn't say goodbye.

"Right, here's what's going to happen; I'm going to come back for the rest of his things. I've seen that room, I'll know if somethings missing. And that shit is his, don't try to bullshit me." Hopper eyes her with visible distaste. "He's an adult now. You can't take him back and if I hear that either of you've been trying to harass him again, I'll press charges."

She nods, which is enough of an answer for him. He throws the two bags in the back with the third before climbing in the drivers seat. The air is thick with tension as he pulls out the drive, starting the drive back to the cabin.

"Um... could you, uh, drop me off at the trailer park?" Steve asks, quiet and timid in a way that is horribly familiar to Hopper. "I, uh... I need to see Eddie."

Hopper grunts. He grits his teeth to stop himself snapping. It wouldn't be fair on Steve. So he drives him there, quiet and tense.

"Thanks," Steve mumbles.

But Hopper climbs out too, gently grabbing Steves jacket lapels to drag him over to the Munsons trailer. Hopper knocks.

"Oh," Waynes eyebrows raise. He looks Hopper up and down before turning his eyes on Steve, who he gives a soft smile. "Harrington, you doing alright?"

"No," Hopper answers for him. "Could we come in for a moment?"

"Sure?" Wayne shuffles out the way, shutting the door behind them. "Eddie's in his room, if you want me to get him?"

"You want your boy to see?" Hopper asks Steve.

Steve ducks his head, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. He mutters, "he probably will anyway."

"Ok. Do you want him here for this?"

"Here for what?" Eddie asks, hovering in the doorway, worried. "What's happened?"

"Nothing," Steve tries to say. "It's... really, it's nothing."

"Steve," Hopper calmly says. Waits for Steve to look back at him, simply raises an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Hopper, it's fine, really."

"Where?"

Steve tries to stare him down, unsuccessfully. He huffs, annoyed, glancing at Wayne and Eddie who, understandably, look confused.

He slowly takes his jacket off, keeping his eyes on the floor. There's a sharp intake of breath when the dark, almost black, bruises on his arms are revealed. They litter the entirety of both arms, the ones around his left wrist and right bicep standing out the most- the ones shaped like hands.

"Steve," Eddie whispers, walking forward slowly. He's careful, brushing his fingers against his skin. "Oh, baby, who did this?"

"It's fine," Steve tries to insist.

Hopper clears his throat though. "Where else?"

Steve doesn't try to argue this time. He grabs the back of his collar, lifting his top off. His ribs have the worst of his bruises.

"Fuck," Eddie carefully, gently, pulls Steve into a hug. Presses gentle, ever so soft kisses to his neck. His hand is just as gentle when he rubs his back. Steve clings to him, grip looking almost painful, but Eddie doesn't complain.

Hopper turns to Wayne, who is also pointedly looking away so the two can have their moment. "His parents are gonna try to find him. Direct them to me if they try here."

"Don't worry about Steve," Wayne glances at the pair, still wrapped around each other, at the bruises. "Worry about them. If they try to come by here, they'll be leaving in a body bag. I'm sick of assholes treating my kids like this."

Hopper looks over at Eddie, who's pulling back so he can hold Steves face, eyes painfully understanding. He nods at Wayne, pats his shoulder. "I'm getting the rest of his stuff, he's got no reason to go back there. It's my cabin he's coming home to."

"I'll drive him there myself," Wayne glances at the pair, who think they're being subtle and sneaky as they giggle their way towards Eddies room. "Tomorrow."

Hopper chuckles, glancing towards the hall the two disappeared down. "Tomorrow."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #jim hopper #ficlet #angst #steves asshole parents #well #hopper and wayne are steves real parents now #hurtcomfort

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cherry-leclerc · 6 months

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forever be ☆ cl16

genre: porn with slight plot, humor, blind date trope, longing, age gap (6 years)

word count: 10.8k

Foolishly, you find yourself being dragged into an unwanted blind date. Again. Lucky for you, so is a special someone.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+... m!receiving, penetrative sex, appearance of tit foreplay and slight fingering, a bit of biting and crying (??)

inspired by this and this !

Blind dates were never something you ever thought you would consider. They never made much sense. Why would you put yourself in an uncomfortable position, and then what? You don’t like them and it doesn’t work out?

“Whole lot of bullshit if you ask me.” Kika swears as she tosses her brown locks over her shoulder. You’ve known each other for a few years, but quickly became as close as sisters during all the late night shoots you would have together.

“You can’t be single forever,” she says as you roll your eyes. Ever since you broke up with your last boyfriend, she’s been playing matchmaker. It hasn’t quite worked out.

He’s too vain.

Rude to waiters, no thank you.

He brought his mom to the date!

There was always something wrong and she knew it was only a matter of time before you completely blocked her advice. That is until her boyfriend, Pierre, told her he knew just the right person for you.

“Yikes, don’t put out any bad juju.” Theatrically, you make a cross with your two index fingers. She lets out a light giggle as she throws a pillow in your direction. You yelp as it hits your head.

“Just one more, okay? If it doesn’t work out then we can be done with all of this and have it your way.”

“Threatening me, now?” You wiggle your eyebrows. “One more.”

The following week Kika confirms your date over brunch. He’s nice. Very handsome.

Sipping on your iced tea you nod. “I mean as long as he doesn’t ask me if I can help him win an ex-girlfriend back…”

“It happened one time.”

Later that night for some reason you grow nervous as you get closer to your date. Palms get slightly sweaty and you hurriedly wipe away on your dress. “What the…” You’ve never been nervous before a blind date, why would you? Deep down you knew things like this never worked out, but why now?

“Here is fine!” Handing over some cash to the cab driver, you climb out as you make your way over to the dimly lit restaurant. Okay. A tad bit too romantic. Taking in a deep breath, you walk in.

You’re quickly reminded why you hate stuff like this. You have no clue as to how your date looks and you’re left glancing around like a lost puppy. Kika had mentioned that he would be wearing something that would make it obvious. Scanning the room you search and everything looks quite normal.

Except for the man who sits with black sunglasses.

“Charles?” He nods as he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. Startled, you pull back a bit.

“Shit, sorry. Habits.” A nervous laugh is released as you smile and he pulls out your chair to sit.

“It’s okay, I’m not too used to all this European mannerism…” The shy smile that is sprawled on your lips has him almost blushing. You were beautiful. When Pierre had first mentioned his and Kika’s plan, he almost wanted to boot the idea right away. Nothing good ever came out of all this.

She’s super sweet! I’ve met her a couple of times and she’s really down to earth.

But she’s a model? Tell me what model has ever been like that.

Kika slightly punches Charles’ shoulder as he winces. Sorry, he mutters.

Just trust us.

“Oh. You’re not from here?” You shake your head as your eyes scan the menu sitting right in front of you. You had barely met the guy, but his burning gaze was too much.

“No, but I moved here a year ago for work…Still catches me off guard at times.” He makes a mental note of the way you bit your cheek before you look up at him. He gulps.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

It surprises you how much he actually listens. It also surprises you even more that you actually enjoy hearing him talk.

“Sorry if Pierre and Kika dragged you into all of this. I just…” He clears his throat before playing with the napkin on his lap. “I had a tough break up a few months ago and he’s been trying to get me to meet new people.”

Not what a girl wants to hear on a first date, but you would be a complete hypocrite if you judged him for it. “Don’t worry, they didn’t. I also went through a break up a few months back.”

He almost wants to laugh. Nice try. Who in their right mind would break up with someone as pretty as you? Long lashes fan your face as you take a bite of your raspberry pastry. The way your plump lips pressed together as you enjoy its taste.

“I guess we’ll understand each other more than I anticipated.”

“How was it?” You pull the phone far away from your face as you put it on speaker. Walking towards the refrigerator you take out a plate of fruit. You hum.

“It was alright.” The Portuguese model gasps as she switches to FaceTime. Picking up, you lean against the counter.

“You like him!” Choking on a blueberry you take a step back as if her words stung. Do not! But there’s no use. “Yes, you do! After every other date you would already have a reason ready as to why you couldn’t see them anymore, but look! Oh my God. You do have a heart!”

Frowning, you munch on a strawberry. “I’ve always had a heart.”

Kika lets out a slight pout as she nods apologetically. “I was kidding, of course you do. It’s just that this is the first guy you might actually like after that jerk you luckily now call your ex-boyfriend.” You snort. Kika giggles at the sound before she lays her phone against a pillow. “I just want you to finally meet someone who would actually fit your standards. It’s what you deserve.”

“Well, let’s just not get too ahead of ourselves.”

“10 minute break, darling.”

Smiling sweetly, you make your way over to your trailer before you flop down onto the couch. You lay there silently for a few minutes before you actually grab your phone.

Hey. It’s Charles.

Your heart flips as you think of a response.

Hi!

Good enough. Three dots pop up before they disappear.

I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner later? 9pm if that fits with your schedule.

You smile as you tuck your hair behind your ear. See you then.

As soon as he sees you skipping down the stairs to him, he immediately feels better about feeling more excited to see you. The way you smile ear to ear when he hands you a colorful bouquet of flowers makes him thankful for listening to Kika’s advice. She likes carnations! Not roses.

“They’re so pretty! Thank you, Charles.” Even with heels you have to tippy toe to press a warm kiss against his stubble. Stepping back you look up with sparkling eyes. “Getting better with this whole ‘mwah’ thing, right?” He chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Totally.”

As he sits in front of you ordering for both of you, you take the time to notice everything about him. His lashes, his freckles, his pink lips, his dimples, his eyes. You pray that you don’t come off as a creep, but Charles was perfect.

The waiter leaves and he turns to you with a grin. “How was work?” You’re a bit taken back by his question. It’s the most decent one out there, but not even your ex-boyfriend cared enough to ask.

You clear your throat. “Very well. Thank you for asking.”

He nods before saying, “I never asked how old you were…I mean you moved here all alone, I would imagine you’re at least 22?” A slight panicked look crosses his features. You giggle.

“Something like that. I’m 20.” He lets out a breath of relief before taking a sip of red wine. “What about you?”

“I recently turned 26.”

Older. Wiser. You could work with it.

You’re both sharing a plate of tiramisu when he asks, “Would you like to go to one of my races?”

“Oh. Where?” You wish you could jump at the opportunity. I mean, if he’s asking if it's because he wanted you there, how could you say no? But you were flooded with upcoming photoshoots.

“Texas.”

Now you were very interested. Green eyes stare back at you as he waits for a response, but then he shakes his head in a shy manner. “You’re probably busy. It’s okay-”

“I could make it work.” Pearly whites shine back at him. “I’ll make it work. I promise.”

You and Charles spend the few days together before he flies off to Texas. You learn very quickly that he is terrified of snakes.

“Ow!”

You had both gone hiking and you were too busy admiring his glistening abs to notice the snake slithering right in front of you both. That is, until Charles shrieked and jumped onto your back. Unfortunately, you weren’t as strong as him.

He quickly rises up and he lifts you up from the floor and starts brushing the dirt off you. He immediately stops when he touches your ass.

“It’s just a little snake, Charles,” you groan as he nods to himself. Of course, he squeaks, but he still hides behind your delicate figure. You want to hurl over laughing but you would hate to make him feel as if you’re teasing his phobia. “It’s probably harmless…”

Just then you turn to the snake and see it making its way to you quickly. You squeal as you jump onto his back. “Go, go, go!” Gripping onto your legs, he starts running down the hill. Once you reach the bottom - which wasn’t that difficult since you had barely started your hike - he sets you down as he huffs. You giggle.

“Oh my God! That was so much fun!”

“No!” He slightly glares as you shut up. “Not fun at all.”

You bite your lip as you try your best to refrain from laughing. “Of course. Not fun at all.”

After Charles’ worst nightmare, you both decide to go back to his flat to cook some dinner after he bragged how he was a top chef.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, “Smells burned.”

Walking over to you he takes a look. “It’s fine! It’s a part of the process, amour.” A skeptical look stares back at him as he shoots a thumbs up and you listen regardless.

Taking a seat on his dining room table, you say a quick thank you when he hands you a plate. It looks pretty delicious, you’ll admit it, but you still had your suspicions. Taking a bite you quickly feel yourself wanting to spit it out, but you urge yourself to swallow. “Wow…Um…Really good.”

Taking a quick bite his jaw goes slack. He immediately spits it back out on a napkin. “Fuck! Oh God.” His face scrunched up as he looks to where you sit pretty, looking back at him with a little smirk. He wants nothing more than to kiss it away. “How could you even…”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“I could handle your critics y’know-”

“It was awful.”

“What the fuck,” he wails as he shuts his eyes and throws his head back. The sight itself has you almost drooling. Part of you wishes to climb onto his lap and kiss his thick neck. This is probably the face he makes when he gets his cock sucked, you think to yourself, but quickly scold yourself. Instead you place a soft hand over his.

“Sorry. How about we order take out?”

Sitting on his cloud couch you both enjoy warm Chinese food as you watch TV. “I could go to your race,” you speak up, chop sticks twirling. He lights up.

“Are you serious?” He sets his food aside as you nod.

“It wasn’t easy, but yes. I’ll be able to go.”

He cups your face as he smiles. “You’re going to love it, oh, it’s one of the fun ones.”

Charles + Cowboys? Oh, you bet it will be.

As he walks you to your front door he brings up the idea over how you can travel with him through private jet. Have to treat you right since you fixed your schedule to come with me. Reluctantly, you agree.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow then?”

“I’ll be ready.”

He nods as he stares at your rosy lips. Would they feel as soft as they look? Would you taste as sweet as they seem?

“I’ll see-”

His large hands grab your waist as he leans down to kiss you. You're stunned for a single moment, but when you feel his warm tongue, you immediately let go. He kisses you so desperately, it has your knees buckling. Thank God he’s holding you up with his tight grip.

Pulling away, you place your hands over his chest, chest rising up and down. You press a soft kiss against his cheek as you step out of his magnetic field.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Charles.”

The game started out innocent, cheerful even, but now?

This was war.

“You’re such a cheater! A bad one, too.” He furrows his brows as he frowns at you. Rolling your eyes, you lean against the small table that separates you both. He can’t help but stare at your chest, lingerie poking through. He has to stop himself from groaning at the sight. “Where are they, Charles?” He shakes his head.

“Je jure! Je jure! I swear I don’t have anything!”

Clicking your tongue you lean back against your seat as you let out a menacing smile. “Okay.” An uneasy feeling bubbles inside as he eyes you, slightly dubious. Alright then, he responds. The game of Uno continues as he grows more and more excited to win. Just one more card-

“What-”

“Oh. Were you looking for these?” Flashing a stack of cards towards him, his eyes grow wide. “Charles, Charles, Charles…” You wink at him, teasingly. “I’m always watching.” The rest happens in a blur and next thing he knows, you're celebrating. Standing up on the table, you sway your hips as you shimmy. He can’t help but smile, even if he lost. “Eat it and burn.” Just then the private jet enters a small wave of turbulence that causes you to fly straight into his lap. You both groan.

“Jesus.”

Blushing, you rub his head before rubbing yours, but he isn’t worried about that. He’s just trying to get over the fact that your ass presses right against him. You had to get off of him now. But the way you move against him to face him has him fluttering eyes closed. “Fuck, are you okay?” Your voice is filled with concern. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabbage. Broccoli. Asparagus. Cabba-

“Oh God! I broke you!” Your warm hands against his face have him opening his eyes.

“No! You didn’t. It’s just that…I’m trying to get my mind off of…” You’re nodding, urging him to continue as you comb your fingers through his hair. It feels so nice.

“Off of what?”

He lets out a shaky breath as his hands slide down to your waist. A warm sensation enters your lower belly with his touch. “You.”

“Me? Wha- oh.” You feel him now. How hard he is under you. The way his grip turns more firm as he tries his best to keep his eyes open. “Oh Go- I’m gonna get up now-”

“Wait.” His warm hands push you deeper against him. “Just a minute. Please.”

Nodding, you stay quiet, him having his eyes closed as he falls into a pattern of inhaling and exhaling as if it was the most difficult thing to do. For him, it sure did seem like it. And he just looked so handsome. Eyes closed, head thrown back, pink lips turning slightly red from the occasional times he would bite down. So, it made perfect sense the moment you leaned up to kiss his throat.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“What happened next?” Kika squeals as she claps her hands in delight. You had arrived a few hours ago and somehow already made your way to your best friend.

“This is a bit too much even for me, but what happened next?”

And Pierre.

There was a bit of hesitation in your voice when you say, “Nothing.” The couple share a small glance before humming suspiciously. All of a sudden, your skin grows warm. “I’m being serious, nothing did! The flight attendant interrupted, letting us know we were about to land. If anything, we got scolded.”

“Ha! He got - what do you call it again - blue balled!”

“Pierre!”

“Qu'est-ce que j'ai dis!”

Raising a single hand, you brush him off, as if his words didn’t matter. “It’s fine. But please…Can we just never mention this like, ever.” They both shake your hand before shooting a thumbs up. “Great.”

You continue catching up about other business. Pierre’s trouble with his car, Kika’s studies, your upcoming photoshoot with Dior. Everyone is so deep into the conversation that they don’t notice when Charles enters the rooms. He comes to a halt, a clear indication that he was surprised by their visit. “What are you guys doing here?”

Kika smiles. “Oh, you know. Catching up.” He nods, eyes shifting to his best friend. His brows furrowed with concern.

“Is he okay?”

But he really wasn’t. Pierre’s lips were tugging a teasing smile, face turning light red from how hard he was trying to suppress his words. If they were in a cartoon, fumes would be rushing out of his ears. The Portugues giggled nervously. “Of course he is!” She stands up in a hurry before grabbing his hand, already dragging him towards the exit. “We should get going though! See you guys later for dinner!”

As soon as they leave, he kisses your forehead. “Hey.”

“Hey. How was your meeting?”

He sighs as he takes a seat next to you. “Same old, same old. I don’t really want to talk about it, if that’s okay.” No problem, you respond with a sympathetic smile. “I think I’m going to shower before we leave.”

Sitting on the bed, you weigh your options. Risky, you hum as you bite down on your lip. Really risky. Without sparing a second thought, you jump up as you swing your dress off, leaving you just in your panties and bra. Walking to the bathroom, you can’t help but sneak a peek in the nearby mirror. Trying your best to raise up some confidence, you apply some lipstick, tussle your hair a bit, pinch your cheeks for that natural blush. Giddy with excitement, you find yourself falling into little twirls.

“Hey, what do you think about– fuck.”

“Ah!” Dropping to the ground, you crawl like a little crab, rushing to hide behind the bed. “Close your eyes! This is–close your eyes!”

“Okay! They’re closed, they’re closed, don’t worry.” His voice is strained, you could tell. Your confidence is long gone as you climb underneath the covers. Part if you wants to rush out the door and never look back. That seemed like a pretty good idea. “Are you–can I…”

“Yes.” Opening his eyes, he finds you wrapped up with the white duvet, only your eyes peeking out. While he’s trying his best to get your body off of his head, your eyes wander his wet frame, towel wrapped around his waist. “Umm…I-I am so sorry you saw any of that…I…”

Making his way closer, your heart thumps against your chest as a warning. Nope. Nope. Nope. “I should apologize, too. I’m sorry for barging in on you, I should’ve made sure.”

“Apology accepted! Long forgotten!” Twisting the bed sheets, you wince. “Would you mind handing me my dress?”

“Your um- your dress. Yes.” He picks up your piece of clothing that lies at the foot of the bed as he hands it to you, leaving enough space for you not to get too uncomfortable. Also, enough for him to remind himself to not do something he might regret. “Thank you,” you softly say. Heat rises up to your cheeks. “Could you please…” You spin a small finger as he chokes. Right, he yelps. He can hear the commotion you cause in an attempt to slip on your dress as fast as possibly. Tumbling, you stand up to grab your heels. “I’ll wait outside for you to change. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Skipping out, he doesn’t even have a chance to respond before the door slams shut.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me. How am I supposed to see him now and not bring this up?”

Grabbing Pierre’s collar, you tug him closer, eyes burning with a subtle threat. “Listen here, old man. You won’t say a word if you know what is good for you.” Blue eyes go wide as he peeps over to Kika who only shrugs.

“Not a word,” he confirms as you let go.

Dinner was…tense. But that was only between you and the Monegasque.

“Steak,” you both say as the waiter nods. “You know what…I think I’ll just do a salad.” Charles clicks his tongue.

“You want the steak, so you should get it. I’ll get the salad.”

“No, well, now I want the salad. Not the steak.”

“You were just drooling over the steak, just get it.”

You glare as you close your menu. “I want the salad.”

“Excuse them,” Kika apologizes as Pierre sits there in amusement, soaking in the show that sits right in front of them.

“No problem,” the waiter beams. “Couple’s bicker all the time.”

“They’re not-”

“You get the steak. I’ll get the salad.”

“No, you get the steak and I’ll get th-”

“You do know we’re a restaurant and we’re not limited to one piece of meat, right? How about I put you both down for the steak?” Opening your mouth, the waiter smiles before hurrying off. “Be back in a jiffy!”

“I have a feeling she might spit in your food.”

“Shut up, Pierre,” Kika hisses. “Though you should start agreeing on what dessert you guys might want if it takes you this long.”

After dinner you were ready to go back and knock out. Just forget about your humiliating day. And that would have been the case if it weren’t for a little someone who wanted to go-

“Golfing! We should go golfing!” The Frenchman grins. “It’ll be fun!”

“Honey, I don’t think they want to. How about we raincheck?” Kika pats his shoulder as she gives him a small peck. He groans.

“Another day, mate. I’m sure this pretty girl wants to get some sleep,” Charles laughs as he signals to where you yawn. This wakes you up though as you scowl.

“I don’t, actually. I wanna go.” Raising his brow he asks, Are you sure? If you’re tired that’s fine, we can go back. “You can go back to the hotel if you want, but I’m staying.” Grabbing Kika’s hand, you both strut away, already heading towards the black SUV.

“What’s wrong with her?” he mutters as he runs his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know, man, what is wrong?”

Confusion crosses the green eyed boy's eyes as he tilts his head a bit. “You know something I don’t?”

“I mean I wouldn’t say it like that, but-”

“Hello? Are you guys coming or what?” The Portuguese yodels as she pokes her head out the window. Her eyes are sending a warning to her boyfriend. Patting Charles' shoulder, he runs towards the car.

“Come one, C. It’ll be fun.”

It was not fun.

“Let me show you,” he offers when you swing the club for the 5th time, chipping grass and dirt along the way. You growl a low, It’s fine. I got it. He squeaks when you swing too far back and hit his shin.

“Are you okay?” you whisper as he whines. I’m okay. Can I just show you? “Yes, please.” Standing behind you, he grabs your arms as he gives you advice and demonstrates with you. For a moment you stop listening but the playful grins that your friends wear is enough for you to pull away from his touch, so suddenly, he jumps back a bit. “I think I got it now. Thank you.”

“Very well then.” Making his way over to Kika and Pierre, they all stand with observing eyes. Standing still. Just waiting. Any minute now-

“Would you mind going further into the golf course to see where my ball lands?” You’re not quite sure why or who you’re asking, but as soon as Pierre agrees and starts to make his way over you shout out a quick, “Not you! Uhhh…Charles, could you do it pretty please?” His heart squeezes with your puppy eyes. Y-y-yeah, he mumbles as he jogs deeper into the open area, shooting you a thumbs up as you let out a breath of relief.

“He won’t bite, you know that, right?” Kika giggles when you poke your tongue out. Turning your attention, you push your hips slightly back, knees slightly bent, too. Practicing a few swings, you narrow your eyes towards the flag that points out the cup. Licking your lips, you swing as you hear a quick click with the sudden contact. You can’t tell if it was good, but it looked good enough to you. “Did you guys see that?” Jumping up and down you run towards your best friend as you hug her as if you just won a Nobel Prize.

“That was so good!”

“I was just one with the ball–I felt it in my bones-”

The engine of the golf cart has you both spinning around to where you see Pierre driving to the middle of the field. You squint your eyes. “What is that?” Kika murmurs, grabbing your hands as she leans forwards as if that could help her see clearer.

“Not sure. Is it a hill? It wasn’t there befo…” The figure suddenly angles themselves to their elbows. “Holy shit! It’s Charles!” Squealing, you rush to the second golf cart, immediately pressing on the gas as if your life depended on it. You’re forgetting me! Sharply pressing the brakes, Kika rushes in as she taps your thighs, signaling you to go. As soon as you make it there, you could tell; it’s bad. Blood oozes out of his nose as he swats his friends hand away when he presses tissues against his face. “Oh my God.” Kneeling down beside him, you cradle his face, gingerly.

“I’m okay,” he groans as he brushes his fingers against your hip. “It’s no big deal.”

Your eyes look almost as if you’ve gone crazy, when you shriek, “No big deal? This is–” Blood drips onto your hand as you grow a bit faint. “...not okay.”

“Maybe not now, but I will be-”

“Woah there,” Kika shrieks as your body goes limp. “She’s gone.”

“What?”

“Cool! I’ve never heard of a dead body on a golf course before!”

“She’s not dead, dickhead, she only fainted.” Kika rolls her eyes as she brushes your hair out of your face. You’re sprawled out on the grass, as if it was your wake. “Charles, quick. Try and wake her up.”

The Monegasque winces, rubbing his nose as he crawls his way over to you. “I…Umm…” Give her a big ‘ol kiss, Pierre hollers as Kika smacks his chest. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He taps your cheek before rubbing a small circle. “This is getting scary - and dark. Can you hear meeee?” Groaning, you begin to rub your head and eyes as he comes to vision.

“Charles?”

He smiles. “Hey, there.” Small smile starts to make its way to your face before you deflate with fear. Looking down at you is Charles, but with dark red blood dripping all over you. Letting out a loud scream as you aim a quick punch. “Fuck me, not again!”

“Okay, good, alright. Right there.” Kika and Pierre huff as they drop you and Charles against the cool bed. It had taken lots of explaining to the country club that they weren’t in fact not trying to get away with murder, but much rather, just trying to bed good friends and drop you back at your shared hotel room. It was much harder dealing with the two of you who were completely out of it.

“Kikaaaa,” you whine as you cling onto her arm. “This is sooo nice of youuu. I really appreciated it, I doooo.” You pat her cheek before dragging your hand all over her face as you giggle. She swats you away. Anytime honey, she responds. Charles groans.

“Piereeeee. This is sooo-”

“Yes! Nice of me? No problem, it’s been a long day and it is time for me and my beautiful lady to get some rest!” Tugging Kika away, they shout a quick goodbye before they exit. Tossing over to face you, he rubs your stomach.

“How are you feeling?”

You shut your eyes. “Like hell.” He laughs as he sighs when he feels your hands slide on top of his. “What about you?”

“Like hell.” And you might be a tad bit delirious but the laugh that bubbles out of you is enough for him to forget his ringing nose. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your laugh dies down as you roll over to him. “Even after I almost killed you twice today?” Small fingers softly tap against the dry blood on his nose.

“Even after that, yes.”

The next few days leading up to the Austin GP you were able to manage pushing off any rigidness that you had placed between you and Charles. Kind of.

Psst. Where are you? Peeking your head behind a stack of soft tires, you shoot your hand out to haul Kika towards you. She yelps at the sudden surprise. What the fu- “I can’t do this anymore.” She quirks a brow.

“Now you’re just making this complicated on yourself because you want to.”

“What? No! He’s making it hard on me.”

Crossing her arms she asks, “And how is he making it hard on you, if you don’t mind me asking.” You want to stomp your feet in frustration but you stop yourself when a few engineers pass by, sharing a small greeting to you both.

“He’s…too much. Have you seen him, come on, with that obnoxious cowboy hat? Or his cute little mustache?” Kika giggles at the reminder and shakes her head no.

“I have a handsome boyfriend,” she defends. You chuckle.

“Right. But…” Your mind stays put at the image of Charles and all the possibilities that lie within. It was all becoming too much, really. You clap your hands. “It’s okay! I can get over it.”

“You looked so good,” you moan around his cock. It’s a bit muffled but clear enough to have him groaning and rutting his hips harder. Choking, you squeeze your eyes shut as you grip onto his knees.

He had thought about this- dreamt about this and every time he thought he would know how to handle it and act cool. But there was no way of acting put together when you’re kneeling in prayer. “Fuck.” With a dirty smile, you grin around his cock before pulling your lips back, twirling your tongue around his pink tip and sliding your warm mouth back down. Letting out a few shaky breaths he says, “Y-y-you need to p-pull away now if you don’t w-want me t-to-''

But you’re deepthroating him so good and swallowing, causing your throat to close around him and that has his voice hitching, cutting off as he lets out one last moan before finishing in your mouth. White cum leaks the corner of your lips before you pick it up with your finger and lick it once you pull away. You giggle.

Climbing onto his lap, you sweetly kiss his face as he smiles. Kissing his red nose, you ask, “Did you like it?” The way you sound, confident, but a bit unsure, is enough for him to kiss your plump lips as if this were the most important kiss of his life. Which to him, it was.

“You’re amazing.” Blushing, you dig your face into his neck as you both sit there for a while longer. The room is quiet and calm as he falls into his own thoughts. Drawing shapes against your thigh, he clears his throat. “Why were you distancing yourself before?” He bites back a smile when he feels you lick his neck.

“I wasn’t pulling away…” His eyes twinkle in response. You sigh. “I was…embarrassed.” His face grows soft as he asks, Why? Looking down to where his fingers trace your lap, you start. “The first day at the hotel - when we got here - I came up with a dumb idea.” The way he’s looking at you has you nervously chuckling. “I was going to surprise you in the shower. That’s why I had stripped down and then you walked out and… I wanted to die.”

He’s laughing now as you smack his chest defensively. “I missed out on that? Noooo!” He wails as he throws his head back. The view takes you back to the first time he cooked for you and did the exact same thing.

You can now confirm: he does close and throw his head back when he’s getting his cock sucked.

“You didn’t miss out on much,” you reassure him, biting down on your thumb, nervously, before letting go. He’s listening now, green eyes dedicated to you. “I’ve never…”

“Had sex?” His voice is pitched with shock as you shake your head.

“Dear God, no. That ship has sadly sailed, but…Never had sex with someone older than me.”

“I’m not that old,” he jokes. You narrow your eyes with humor.

“You’re not,” you agree, “But I’ve only been with guys my age. They never had much to offer, though.”

He hates the idea of you ever being with someone who wasn’t him, but he knows there is not much he can do.

But prove he’s much better.

He pecks your lips. “I’ve heard that can happen sometimes.” His voice is light, slightly stingy, and that makes you smile. “Been there too - if you can believe it. But we can take it slow. We don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”

And you might be eager and desperate for him, but you know it would be better to hold off and get more comfortable with the idea.

“Thank you.”

“How does this make any sense?”

Your eyes flick back and forth - from Xavi to Charles, from Charles to Xavi. Part of you was almost afraid to intervene into the heated conversation.

“Yeah, we’ll bring that up to the FIA.” A heavy sigh is released as Xavi rubs his temples, eyes momentarily shut. “Let’s just stick to the bright side- we did our best.”

The Monegasque rolls his eyes, hands flinging up in response. “And yet it never seems like enough.”

“Look the issue is always something we can fix-“

“That’s the same story I’ve been told time and time again! If it were fixed then we wouldn’t be dropping from P3 straight into a DQ.” The engineer huffs, eyes empty and tired - and while you completely understand where Charles was coming from, you felt bad.

“Charles, I think…” His cold gaze catches you off guard for a moment but quickly softens up with the sound of your voice. “...I mean I understand why you’re frustrated, but I’m sure he is too. Maybe you both should just take some time to cool down and when you’re ready, then you can sit back down to come up with a proper solution.”

For a scary second he doesn’t say anything as you hear a low, grazie tesoro, from Xavi. You’re on edge but when he nods with a small smile, you let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Do you want to stay?” Hmm, you chirp, eyes attentive. Turning on his car, he begins to back out of the parking lot. “Here in Texas. For a while longer before we fly to Mexico. Kika and Pierre are going to and I thought you might want to as well-”

“You’re not needed in Mexico already?” He shakes his head. “In that case; yes.”

Pierre had planned a whole year's trip for one single day. And every single activity was a near death experience.

“Horseback riding.”

Sharing an excited squeal, you and Kika hop up and down as Charles finishes up a quick call. The morning had started early, per Pierre’ request, but no one had really complained up until that point.

“Danny Ric recommended this farm just an hour away, but you’re with an F1 driver, we’ll make it there in 10 minutes max.”

“I’m driving,” the green eyed boy interrupts as he snatches the keys away from his best friend. “There’s no way we’ll be safe if you drive.” Sheepishly, Kika agrees. Pierre’ mouth hangs agape. Quickly, he takes the keys back.

“My agenda; I drive.”

“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”

The drive had started out calm. Music was playing from your and Kika’ mixed playlist as you both chatted in the backseat. Charles was screeching every single second due to Pierre’s driving skills. It was great.

“Amore, they have a horse that looks like an Oreo,” Pierres announces as Kika claps with delight. “Rented that one out just for you.” It was a sweet gesture, something that even had you swooning, and all would have been fine if you weren’t running a bit late. “As long as we’re there at 2pm.”

Biting down on your lip, Charles turns back to look at you. Raising up your phone you show him.

1:20pm.

You were still 45 minutes away. There was no way. You’re about to bring it up until Charles silently hushes you. “What’s so important about a cookie looking horse?” he asks, slowly. Kika beams.

“I had one like that growing up. His name was Spot. Technically, it belonged to my grandparents but deep down we all knew it was mine. P, has been on a mission to find a clone of some sort. Kinda sweet.”

Pierre’s winks through the rear view mirror as he switches lanes. A tiny car honks as you flinch. Close one, he mutters. “And dare I say I found Spot’s twin. Reincarnation! Mon amour, you’re going to love him when we get there…”

1:25pm.

Eyes as wide as saucers, he steps on the gas so suddenly, it has you flying against the seat. You let out a scream - you think. “Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas dit l'heure?” Charles winces.

“You should have been checking the time yourself! You’re the one driving!”

“But you’re supposed to be my GPS!”

“Non, je ne suis pas!”

The Frechman presses harder on the gas. You yelp. “Kiks, you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, don’t you dare forget it.”

“No, you are one of the best friends I’ve ever ha- Ah!” The Portuguese clings onto the window in an attempt to keep straight when her boyfriend switches lanes harshly. “Pierre, it’s fine! I don’t want to see my dead horse’ twin that bad.” Swiftly, he turns around as he shakes his head. Charles curses as he reaches out to keep the wheel straight.

“Listen to me Kika; you are meeting that horse.”

“Oh. I don’t feel so good.” Feeling queasy, with all the commotion and awful driving skills, you let out a whimper as you hold your head. A worried Charles turns around to caress your knee. It’s okay, baby. Do you need anything?

“Pierre, seriously, stop the bloody car.” His tone is threatening, but this doesn’t seem to stop Pierre.

“I’m sorry - I am - but we are making it there because we are making it there.” Kika is past asking and has skipped to praying in her native language, eyes squeezed shut.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fi-”

You’re cut off by police sirens, red and blue light dancing through the windows. Your eyes grow wide as you and Charles shared a panicked look. “Fuck,” Pierre murmurs. “Alright, everyone hold on. I’m gonna step on the gas.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Charles spits out before flinging back against his seat, forced to pull away from you. You’re a mess. Pierre, Pierre, it’s not worth it to die young, you wail.

“We’re making it to that stupid horse!”

Weaving through lanes, all of you slide side to side in your seats. Pull over, a stern voice blares outside of the police car. Your stomach strings into nervous loops.

“Pierre, pull over,” Kika finally tries as the situation grows more serious.

“I can lose him! Just give me a minute!”

Speeding is nothing new to the two Formula 1 drivers, but to you and your friend it was. “I’m too young!” Kika and you screech when Pierre does a sharp turn towards the exit. A breath of relief escapes Charles' lips when he notices the cop car had lost sight of them.

Smoothly, Pierre pulls into a dusty parking lot. He grins.

“Ta-da!”

“Sweetheart, did a horse already kick you?”

Icing his newly gifted black eye, Pierre mumbles a low; “Something like that.”

Icing his newly gifted fist, Charles sarcastically replies; “Something like that.”

The little old lady smiles warmly before leading the group towards the barn. “We have many beauties for you to choose from. All friendly!”

Almost instantly, Kika spots the horse the group almost lost their lives over. “He’s beautiful!” Running over, she pets him as he licks her hand. Pierre discreetly snaps a few pictures.

“That was really sweet,” you admire. Charles scoffs. Almost dying seems sweet to you? Giggling, you playfully smack his toned chest. “Well, no. But just how hard he tried to get her here…” Kika waves at you both as she climbs onto the tall horse.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. Leading you further into the cabin, you both pet the row of horses. Behind you, Pierre yells out, Buttercup is a fan favorite!

And so, you were introduced to Buttercup. Charles' heart did a double take when a bright smile formed itself onto your lips. You were an Angel on Earth.

After going over the basics, you’re able to take Buttercup on a quick gallop around the open field. Attentive, Charles follows by foot. “Are you sure you don’t want to get on a horsy?”

“Once, when I was a little kid, I fell off one. I was lucky that it was just a pony, but I’ve been traumatized since.”

“Oh.” You try keeping a straight face but can’t help but start laughing. He frowns. “Sorry! I’m just imagining that.” Wheezing harder, you clutch your heart dramatically. He wishes to remember the sound of your laugh.

“Sweetheart! Just letting you know that no candy should be near the horses! Wouldn’t want them acting up.”

Shooting a quick thumbs up, you nod. Peacefully, you continue laughing and learning more about Charles and you love it.

Strolling over, Pierre pats Charles shoulder as they whisper to each other for a while. Trotting away just a bit, you decide to give them a bit of privacy. A few seconds later, they share a bro hug.

“Just don’t do anything stupid again,” you hear Charles warn as Pierre bobs his head. Got it.

“They have a cute little shop here so I went to go buy a few snacks, you guys want some?”

Opening a chocolate bar, he extends his arm out as a truce, brown chocolate glistening under the sun. Your stomach drops.

“Pierre, you fucking di-” Buttercup rapidly spots the candy bar and begins to gallop towards the Monegasque and Frenchman with full speed. Get out of the way, you shriek out as they both make a run for the exit.

“This place is lovely!” Kika hollers as she inches closer to the commotion. Lost, her gaze flickers to where Pierre and Charles jump over the fence, landing on mud, and you and Buttercup chasing after them. “Oh God, Pierre.”

“That’s the thing! You don’t think!”

The fight between Charles and Pierre has been going on for what seems like hours and you were starting to get tired of it.

“Charles-”

He gently pushes your hands aside before glaring back at Pierre. “What would you have done if something had happened to her, huh? Oh, you would be a dead man-”

“I think he gets it now!” Tugging on his arm, you pull him towards you. “I’m fine. It was fun.” He looks at you skeptical as you let out a light laugh. “Okay, too soon. But seriously, let’s just forget about it! Nothing happened and we still have a full day ahead of us. Let’s not let it go to waste.”

“Dirt bike riding!”

“Are you sure?” Leaning against Charles, you massage your temples at the possibility. Given, it sounds like fun, but you really weren’t looking for a broken bone.

“Always.”

“Be careful,” you say as you tap against Charles' helmet. Only a tiny part of you wanted to join, but decided not to last minute. Kika agreed to stay with you, but deep down you knew she was just as scared.

Smacking your ass, you jump as he lets out a muffled laugh underneath the black helmet. “Wouldn’t want to die without fucking you.”

Blushing, you push him away. “Go already.” A loud laugh follows as he drifts away. The sight of him wearing all black has your head spinning. Sitting down on a small table, under the shade, you take a sip of Kika’s Coca-Cola. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome?”

Everything carries on smoothly. A few close calls, but safe nonetheless. “I didn’t know they were so good at this,” you ponder, gaze keeping up with the 26 year old.

“Me either. Honestly - definitely - surprised.” A pink tint fans itself on her cheeks as Pierre bikes by. “I love it.”

“Get a room.” But you aren’t complaining either. This is definitely a sweet sight. Wanna try? Charles calls out. “No, thank you.”

Biking closer, he opens up his visor, green eyes shining through. “I’ll keep you safe,” he tries. You shake your head. “As if you’re my most prized possession. Newsflash: you are.”

He’s subtle with it, but it’s enough for you to feel as if you’re floating. You just had to be. “Very sweet, but I’m okay.” Leaning close, you kiss his helmet before slamming it shut.

“Suit yourself, chérie.” You feel as if you’re stumbling over yourself as you watch him glide away. You have to remind yourself that people are around and that there is no room for shenanigans. Dirt crunches underneath your feet as you twirl to face the Portuguese.

“I think I’m in love.” Fanning your face, you let out a breath. She chokes.

“In lo- excuse me, what?” Shrugging your shoulders, you spin the yellow straw that dips inside your drink.

“I said I think. Quit acting as if I just said my first words.” Grabbing you by your shoulders, she starts to shake you back and forth. Might as well be! There’s no way ‘you think’! When it comes to you, you always know. Her point has you thinking about your confession. Because she’s right.

You are in love.

What’s there not to love? He’s kind, caring, intelligent, funny, clumsy in a cute manner, he looks out for you (especially when Pierre is near the premises). If anything, it would be impossible not you. Looking up, you see him on the side of the dusty hill, chatting with what looks like to be fans. And he’s just so sweet with them, it only makes you more sure of your sudden knowledge.

“He can’t know. Not yet.”

The bike's loud engine is what snaps you out of your thoughts. Pierre waves as he follows after Charles. “That was awesome! Amour, did you see me-” Amidst of his words, he didn’t pay much attention when he accidentally stepped on the pedal a tad bit too hard, causing him to glide closer to Charles’ motorbike. A loud clash follows as they skid on the dirt, dust causing them to be untraceable for a moment, only bickering coming through.

Hurriedly, you both run over as you wave your hand and cough. Slowly, the dirt settles down, allowing you to see Charles and Pierre on top of one another. They both groan in pain. Charles pushes the Frenchman off him.

“I should’ve known something had to happen.”

A few more ideas were thrown out by the blue eyed man but every single one got shut down. “Let’s just get something to eat,” Kika growls. Clicking your fingers, you point at her, agreeing.

And so you and your friends find yourselves in a small restaurant that looks straight out of a Western movie. “Pretty nice, I must admit,” you congratulate. Smirking, Pierre slaps the back of Charles’ head. See? A snarl is enough for him to make a run for it. Giggling, you tippy toe to kiss his cheek. “Does your boo boo still hurt, my poor baby?” Brushing your fingers against his thigh, he flinches.

“Yes, actually, it does. I hate bruises.” Snorting, you throw your head back. He drags you closer to his chest, making you trip over your cowboy boots that he just bought for you. “A kiss might make me forget about the pain though, little lady.” He pretends to tip an imaginary hat.

“Little lady?”

“Bonita? Linda?” Curiously, you quirk a brow. “Carlos…” he explains as you respond with an, Ohhh. Tapping his chest, you slide your fingers through his hair.

“A kiss you say?”

He smiles. “Or something else, really.” Heat pools in between your legs as you try your best to suppress your moans. But the way he’s looking down at you has you almost running away. You kiss his cheek, lips lingering for a single moment. The hand that presses against his chest is able to identify the way his heart speeds up.

“Better?”

“I was thinking more here,” he points to his lips, “But that was just as good.” Walking away, you start making your way to where Pierre and Kika sat.

“You never said where.” His eyes follow you, flickering down to your ass, Levi denim short pressed up against you. It should be illegal to look this good.

“Ahem.” Pulling his attention away, he looks into Kika’s eyes, who scowls back up at him. Shyly, he takes a seat.

Dinner flew by. Laughter and stories being heard by any bypasser, but it really didn’t matter to any of you.

“I think his visor broke!” Pierre wheezes as he clings onto the table. Charles shoots a cold glare.

“You broke it with your foot when you kicked me.” This only seems to make his friend laugh harder. The corner of Charles’ mouth slightly lifts up. You continue talking about your day when an older man makes his way to your booth.

“You guys interested in dancing?”

“Hey, man, that’s my girlfriend,” Pierre responds as he looks up at the man. Who does he think he is? he mouths to the rest of you.

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. Line dancing. Anyone who wants to join is welcome to.” Extending his hands towards Pierre, he introduces himself. “Ben. I’m the owner of the restaurant.” Pierre lets out a nervous laugh.

“Oh. My bad.” Turning to Kika he says, “You want to?” She doesn’t even bother looking at him as she smiles at the older man.

“Yes, of course! She pinches your hips, you yelp in surprise. “You in?” Tight lipped, you smile and nod. You both look over to the F1 drivers. Charles shakes his head.

“Count me out.”

Pierre nods. “Yeah, me too.”

Sticking her tongue out, Kika grabs your hand. “Okay, losers.” Walking to the crowded dance floor, she jumps up and down. Her excitement eases you as you smile ear to ear. “You know how to line dance?” You nod.

“My grandpa taught me when I was 5.” Cackling, she high fives you as the music starts. You furrow your brows. “Country Girl?” Kika lets out a satisfied sigh..

“Ahhh. Luke Bryan at his finest.” Copying others steps, you both giggle as you stumble a bit at the beginning. Peeking over at the boys, she frowns. “They’re not even looking.” You wave her off.

“It doesn’t matter.” But you can tell she’s itching for a reaction from Pierre. “You flirt,” you tease as you slap her hip. She rolls her eyes, playfully. Pulling her closer, you swing your hands over her shoulders. She tilts her head in confusion. “God gave us hips and an ass for a reason.” Wickedly, she smiles as she lets loose.

Following the beat, you sway your hips before letting go of one another and spinning like the most seductive ballerinas that ever existed. Running a hand through your hair, you begin to drop to the floor, wide eyes staring up at your best friends who just laughs. Gliding back up, your hands dance across her legs.

“Alright, quit it before I cheat on my boyfriend!” You let out a laugh. “And before Charles kills me.”

“And why would he do that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, tossing her locks over her shoulder. “He looks like wants to kill me and fuck you.” Shocked at her words, you turn to the table and sure enough, Charles’ bruning gaze is directed only towards you. As if no one else existed. Meanwhile, Pierre's mouth is hung wide open. You clear your throat.

“Look at Pierre,” you mumble, trying to get the image of Charles out of your mind. She blushes, sending a kiss over to her boyfriend who smiles suggestively. You shudder. “Gross.” She smacks your cheek softly.

The song ends and you almost wish you could stay dancing forever so there would be no room to see Charles after that. Standing up, he pulls your chair out as you quietly thank him. “Shy now?” His voice is strained, as if he’s trying his best to simply just talk to you, but also filled with tease. You hum.

“Nope.” Your breath hitches when his hand slides onto your thighs. He clicks his tongue.

“I think you might be.” His hand slides swiftly in between your legs. “Just a tiny bit.”

“I-I’m not-”

“Hey,” a voice kills the moment. Charles' attention flickers to the man that stands in front of you. You smile. “Oh, I saw you dancing…”

“And?” Charles cuts him off, but the guy only ignores him.

“Jaden.” He extends his hand out for you to shake. Hesitantly, you do. “I was wondering if I could get your number?”

Stuttering you say, “U-um. I-I…” Looking over at Kika, you beg for help as she raises her brows. No thank you, she mouths. Pierre watched it all unfold as if this were a movie. Awkwardly, you clear your throat. “I’m seeing someone actually, sorry.”

The blond clicks his tongue, running his hand through his jaw. “That’s the thing. He doesn’t have to know. He won’t mind.” Charles can’t help but scoff and stand up to his full height.

“Oh, I think he’ll mind.” It’s almost as if Jaden knew this would tick Charles off as he casually smirked.

“It’s you,” he says, eyes full of judgment. “I had someone else in mind.”

“Yeah, I don’t care what that might be, but you should leave.” Jaden’s eyes meet yours as he takes a seat on the now open chair.

“Merde,” Pierre whispers.

“What do you say we get out of here? I know a hotel nearby.”

Frowning at his words you say, “What’s wrong with you?” You’re caught by surprise when Charles reaches down to drag him by the collar.

“Jaden, is it? I think it’s best if you leave. She’s not interested.”

“Dude, don’t take it personal. Just a quick taste and she’s all yo-” He doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when the Monegasque sends a hard punch. He groans, crashing on top of the table.

“Don’t you dare talk about her at all,” he sourly threatens. Turning back to where you stand with Kika and Pierre, he’s about to check up on you, but that’s before he’s yanked back and hit straight in the ribs. Huffing, Jaden stands over him as he grins.

“Too hard on you?”

Standing up, Charles rolls up his sleeves. “Nope.” Which is how he landed himself in a fiery fight with some wannabe GoldenDoodle.

“Pierre! Do something!”

“Y-you’re right!” Jumping in, he tries to pry Charles off as they tumble around. Get off me, Charles mutters. The Frenchman immediately lets go. “H-he said to get off hi-”

“Yeah, I heard.” Desperately, you try yelling for the Monegasque, but it’s almost as if he can’t hear you. Ben, the owner, runs over.

“Darling, if they don’t stop I’m going to have to call the cops.”

“No!” But the moment you see dark blood flowing out of Charles’ lip, you panic. “Fine! Yes! Call them, but hurry, please!”

After what seems like an eternity, when really it was only 5 minutes, the cops show up. “Let go and put your hands where I can see them!” This seems to get their attention as they harshly let go of one another. You let out a breath of relief, Kika hugging your arm. Cuffing them up, they start pulling them towards the exit, boos filling up the small restaurant. Running after them, you tap on the cops shoulder.

“Let him go, please! He was only defending me!” You’re close to crying and this makes Charles feel guilty. It’s okay. I’ll be fine! Just meet me at the police station. Getting closer, Pierre tries to drag you away as you cry. The policeman stops for a moment.

“You…” Pierre looked around confused before pointing at himself. Me? Calling for backup, a new officer comes and cuffs the Frenchman.

“Woah, woah, hey there. What’s this for?” Kika asks, jogging in order to keep up. “Why is he being arrested?”

The grouchy man scowls. “Speeding on a freeway. Sound familiar?”

“It’s alright, Kika! Just meet us in the police station!”

“He was driving fast to fulfill my wish, he was only being sweet! And I know he was acting irresponsible, but I swear he won’t do it again.”

Nodding, you push her aside. “And Charles was just protecting me from that dick! Please, he won’t do i-it a-a-again…”

The little old lady behind the desk with a bored expression hums. It’s quiet for a few minutes before she stamps the two papers right in front of her. You both sigh. “Alright. I’ll let them go. But only because I like you both.”

Running up to the guys, you throw yourself on the Monegasque as he lets out a groan in pain. Cradling his face, you press kiss after kiss. “I'm” - kiss - “so” - kiss - “glad” - kiss - “you’re” - kiss - “out.” Smiling, he tucks a stand of hair behind your ear.

“This is the land of the free, right?” Your glare up at him, biting back a smile. Not funny at all, you pout. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Walking up to you both, holding hands, Pierre smiles. “Want me to drive us back to the hotel?”

Flinging onto the bed, you let out a few kick-spasms. “Remind me to never agree to anything Pierre says. Ever.”

Lying down next to you, he closes his eyes. “I know I give him so much crap for it, but he means no harm.” Rolling over to your side, you furrow your brows. “Never again,” he confirms. Sitting up right, you wait for him to do the same. Leaning against the headboard, he smiles softly.

“Thank you,” you begin, “For standing up for me.”

“I would do it over and over again with no hesitation.” Letting out a shaky breath, he scoots you to straddle his lap. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

And maybe it is the heat of the moment, but soon you find yourself leaning down to kiss up. His lips are warm, the way you remember them. Your lips are home, the way he remembers them. Sliding his shirt off, you halt when you see the bruises that cover him. You let out a slight wince. “You know what? Another day when you feel better-” He pushes your hips against his as your eyes roll back with anticipation.

“I feel better already.” And then he’s kissing you again, mind trying to keep up with the way your soft hands slide up and down his chest. Long fingers pinch your shirt, tugging it off. His eyes train themselves on your tits. “You’re a fucking dream.”

Unclasping your bra, his mouth immediately wraps around your left nipple. Whining, you brush your hands against his curls. The way his tongue swirls around your sensitive bud has you pushing his face deeper to your chest. He doesn’t seem to mind, free hand going in to squeeze your other boob.

Grabbing his face, you force him to face you, both your chests heaving up and down.

“Fuck me. Please.”

Groaning, he throws his head back. Not wasting anymore time, he switches positions, sprawling you against the white bed sheets. He takes his time taking your shorts and panties off before slipping off his jeans and boxers.

The sight of his dick has you nervous for a split second, but that's cut short when you feel his fingers sliding against your walls. You squirm. “That’s it, amour. Let loose.” His large frame towers over you as he spreads your legs out even more. Almost like an instinct, your legs wrap around his waist. He kisses your forehead. “You need to let me know if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Pinky promise, just…please.”

That's all it takes. Thrusting into you, you both let out dirty, sinful moans. It takes all of him to not snap his hips, just the thought alone being too much.

“You’re so fucking worth it. Worth it all.” Clinging onto his arm, your mind is hazy with the sudden stretch. He’s big and you feel him already brushing against your g-spot. You wonder if you’ll be able to take him.

“Ch-Charles, please move,” you beg, pupils dilated. He starts off slow and you’re almost embarrassed with the way it has you reaching out for him. Begging for more. “F-feel s-s-so good inside of me.”

The way you clench around his cock has him choking on his saliva. “Yeah? Well you feel so good wrapped around me. Warm and-” The sound of his voice has your walls closing around him, even tighter. “...unreal. You can’t be real.”

He lost with the way you squirm underneath him, twisting, almost pulling away, but he keeps a firm grip. “Ch- oh God.” His speed picks up as he fucks your harder. Past boyfriends only put their needs first, but you can tell he was trying to get you to finish first. The realization made your head spin. A tight feeling enters your bottom belly.

Boys? Waste of time.

Men? He was everything.

Rubbing your clit, he admires you. Close? You open your eyes, soft pants being released, the sound of the headboard rutting against the white wall. “I-I don’t know…” He pinches his brows. You let out a shaky breath. “How should an orgasm feel?”

His eyes widen, hips continue their abuse. “You’ve never had an orgasm?” Bashfully, you let go of his burning gaze, watery eyes focused on his pulsing muscles.

“Boys…” Letting out a cry, your bite down on his bicep with the sudden brush against your g-spot. He hisses. Your mouth is open with an O as you drool all over him. You whine when he places his hand over your lower belly. You should feel some pressure here.

His voice is deep, raw and so mature. He sounds as fucked out as you feel. “Do you feel something like that, chérie?” Furiously, you nod. “Words. Use your words.”

“I-I-I do.” Those two words have him almost seeing the future. They are slow and weak, but also sure and his. In this exact moment, he swore he would have you repeating those same words, only in a different location. Teary eyes look up at him. “I feel you everywhere.”

With that you let out a scratched moan as you cum around his cock. The way you arch and squeeze around him is what makes him finish right after. Catching your breath, you look up at him with a twinkle in your eyes. He kisses your bruised out lips.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst

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impyssadobsessions · 2 months

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DPXDC Prompt: Who is Danny Fenton?

Warning: This one will be dark as it contains character deaths and violence.

Danyal replaced Danny Fenton a long time ago. As in the original died and Danyal needed a place to hide.

He could have killed him or maybe there was an accident. But he's been masquerading as Danny Fenton for a long time.

But imagine Danyal Al Ghul did kill a kid to take his place. Or at least might have put him out of his misery of something tragic that happened.. as if he wasn't stalking homes to try and pretend to be someone's else's child after leaving the league.

Wasn't "his" fault the kid was stupid enough to cross paths and get hurt.

Though guilt does follow him as he pretends and easily slides into the kids life. Reason he "starts" to drift from Jazz, she's the only one that eyeing him too closely and he doesn't like it. Blame it on her being a nag.

Its why he survived the portal incident. He was already contaminated.

All this to avoid having to fight his brother and being kicked around by his grandfather.

Only to have karma bite him in the ass. Not only he failed to come back fully- unlike the pit rage that made you forget yourself- this form seems to make every regret and terrible action dig its claws deeper in every painful way.

Even worse if you play the whole phantom is a ghost combined with Danny.. so phantom is danny fenton.

Now he's lost anything he could have pride in. Thanks to his accident, he's had harder time controlling his body.. especially with his powers. Clumsy. Uneven. He knew he was out of sorts from not practicing but he doubt he be this bad.

His life forever now half of either existence. He couldn't pretend anymore. Once his new parents find out- they would try to kill him.

Back to square fucking one.

And this time. He doubt even his brother or mother would lend a pity hand. Not like he would want it.

AMG just now thought maybe he would go to Gotham after he killed Vlad and was caught by the Fentons.

He warned Vlad and told him he was getting onto his last nerve. Even told him that Jack wasn't his dad and Maddie wasn't his mom, hell he wasn't even Danny Fenton. But if he had to tell him who he was he was going to regret it.

Vlad went even harder losing interest in Danny- only for Danny to make a sword with his powers and show Vlad WHO he was.

He was trying to be like his father- batman. He is the grandson of the demon king- and former member of league of assassins.

Vlad begging when he realizes Danny been holding back and actual death is on the horizon. "I'm Danyal Al Ghul. And I'm tired of you."

Danny did do it to save everyone permanently but after brutally killing Vlad- is when first his friends show up to warn him about his parents just to see what he done.

Danny laughing awkwardly like.. you-you saw that.. didn't you? heh- Then Fentons barge in. Jack is emotional wreck.

Actually getting a few good hits in, before Danny decided to play dead again and let Jack think he destroyed him.

Flying back to gather his stuff to leave permanently. He couldn't take the guilt of looking at Jack's face. Danny Fenton is dead anyways.

Only to be confronted by Jazz later who shakily asks if Danny is her brother.

Danny being honest, "no."

"For how long?" Jazz saying she knows it had to be before the accident.

"…we we're 8."

Jazz asking trying not to sob did he kill him.

"Mercifully." Then explains he was going to die anyways-

"You don't know that-"

"Actually I DO. I know what it takes to KILL someone, what could allow someone to live. That's something I DO know. And if he had managed to live he would be a vegetable." Explaining how the injury to his spinal cord was not recoverable. just imagine its so bittersweet, because Jazz does love her brother still. But Danny has been a lie this whole time.. or at least being Fenton was. Most of the laughs have become real, jokes, the friendship.

But Danny knows he can't fix this.. so he leaves.

Jazz torn whether to beg him to stay or to go.. and just ends up choking up watching him leave.

thus Danny not sure where to go decides its bout time he at least sees his father.

whether he let him see him or not is undecided.

Jack will either be blame for the murder of Vlad, or Phantom will be exposed.

Either way. Danny knew he royally fucked up.. again.

Ooo what if Danny does join the bats but insist he just wants to be a normal teen. Has a fully researched and planned backstory… mostly leaving out things because its "hard" to talk about. How he lived from foster home to foster home pretending to be different children until he just escape.

Until Jazz , Sam , and Tuck come to find him. Having audio where Danny stated he was the son of batman. Danyal Al ghul. So they figured if they find batman. They might find Danny.

Sam and Tucker want answers.. also mixed about Danny.. but dammit they been through so much.. HOW COULD HE keep that from them? They're not going to let him runaway from this. Tucker also adds unless he threatens to kill us.

Jazz had resolved her feelings. Analyzing everything since Danny was 8. When the switch happened. What was him acting and when the real Danyal appeared.

And had decided she didn't care. Danny was her BROTHER. And honestly is the only thing she has left right now. And she wants him back. Wants to help him heal, wants to help him.

Sam and Tuck want their answers then decide what to do from there. They don't WANT everything they knew to be a lie.

And now Batman is aware of more of his son- Damian knowing more of what his twin been up too.

Its a race to get answers out of Danny before he figures it out and disappears for good.

Can see Damian being the best to help Danny through this. Especially since Jon and Dick helped him not feel so bad about the league.

Danny though pointing out- "Difference, the league didn't make me kill a kid, nor a pathetic billionaire."

"You're right. It would have made you kill me."

Danny just breaks.

Thus finally able to admit all his guilt and how terrible he feels about himself. How he TRIED to be like Father but.. he failed so hard. He failed. He failed EVERYTHING. Just a loser. A failure. A waste. Only to be reminded that if he was one- he wouldn't have so many people wanting to know him. He's scared to face his friends' and sister. He knows its gonna hurt. And it does. But even though he isn't forgiven there is hope things can move on from it. Sam and Tucker will have some serious trust issues and take a while to decipher what part is Danny and what isn't. Meanwhile, yes Jazz feels betrayed. She understands and mostly just want to get to know HER brother more.. Danny more. Hope this opens up the wall she wanted to break down this whole time. And as long as Danny shows her who he is, and tries to work on himself. She doesn't care who he was or how he got there. Also he has to show her what he done with her little brother's body and give it a proper burial. Which Danny happily will- giving it a proper burial.. not showing jazz. He's still afraid she'll immediately hate him once she does. Also can see Bruce being so conflicted but Damian, Dick, and Jason all standing up for Danny. Especially Jason once hearing why Danny killed Vlad was to PROTECT his family and town. He gave him fair warning.. So imagine Bruce and Danny having hard time getting along after everything is revealed. But more so just Bruce unable to comprehend the conflicted emotions. Danny tried to emulate him.. but failed. But he tried to do good.. yet he still killed. So its more so awkward than anything. Bruce still wants to give his son the best. Then I can see Danny helping out- though he keeps phantom a secret from the public. He's always invisible or barely seen.

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barbiiecams · 15 days

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daddy’s girl

dad!drew starkey x mom!reader, kinda trash but obviously i had too cus im in love with the video of drew and his niece oh my gosh <33

it was a peaceful morning. the sun was shining, the weather was warm, and it was a perfect day for a family date.

looking at the clock, you saw it was 8 am. you were a little surprised aaliyah hadn’t woken up yet, but she just started sleeping through the night. and you definitely weren’t complaining at all.

you sat up in bed while drew was still knocked out. he was still on go all night just in case she started crying in the middle of the night, so he was reasonably tired.

letting him sleep for a little bit, you got up to check on your baby. you made sure to keep your steps quiet, just so you didn’t wake drew up or potentially wake aaliyah up either.

opening the door to her nursery, a wide awake baby looked at you as you walked in.

you smiled at the position of her on her back, holding her feet. “is that my liyah girl up?”

she flashed you her infamous gummy smile. she loved to smile at anyone and everyone, and you just always had to thank god for your happy baby.

she kicked her legs around, more than excited to see her mommy in the morning again. picking her up from her crib, you smothered her in kisses. “my pretty girl, we’re gonna have such a fun day!”

you played with her a little more in your arms before you decided it was time to get yourselves ready for the day. walking into the bathroom, you brushed your teeth while you made sure she had one of her teething rings.

the wailing wasn’t happening now, but it would definitely happen later. better safe than sorry.

she was so calm and bubbly as you did your morning routine, it was perfect. she was really the definition of a “trick baby”.

you were almost done when drew walked in, clearly just woke up from bed not even a minute ago.

“good morning sleepyhead.” you grinned at him through the mirror.

he rubbed his eyes “g’morning,”

hugging you from behind, he gave you a kiss on the cheek then your lip. he reached over to aaliyah to rub her head comfortingly.

“this big girl slept throughout the whole night huh? didn’t she?” he started cooing at her, but that eventually turned into all of his attention. if there was someone that could “steal” your man, it’d be no one except his other princess.

he tickled her a little bit which made her start giggling, then gave her her morning kisses. a sight that would never get old to you.

“best sleep of my life,” you said while styling your hair, and it made him laugh.

“and you deserve it,” he said while wrapping an arm around your waist. “carried her for so long, s’the least i can do baby.”

you smiled at his words, “well she’s sleeping finally, so that means we can both start too.”

“and the stuff we used to be able to do almost every night,” he says into your ear, mainly so that liyah won’t hear.

giggling at his words and shaking your head, you finished with your hair. “it’s too early for you. this is the reason why she’s here in the first place.”

while cleaning your space up, he carries aaliyah off the counter. “you know i want another one.”

“me too,” you respond. “when she’s 2!”

he just smiles at this. he definitely doesn’t have a problem with that, but it just made him laugh that you were so adamant about the specific age. “you wanna be pregnant and dealing with terrible twos?

“you wanna deal with a baby and terrible twos?”

he throws his head back and laughs while bouncing aaliyah. “i’ll go get her ready, take your time baby.”

before walking out the bathroom he gives you a final kiss on the cheek. it feels nice being able to just have a morning to yourself after becoming a mom, but you always still cherished the mornings with liyah.

picking out your outfit, you settled on this for the fact that it was comfy enough to take aaliyah around the city as you planned.

when you were completely done getting yourself ready, you went to check on what your husband and baby were up to since it didn’t take you very long to get ready.

walking into her nursery once again, you saw a completely dressed and ready to go aaliyah.

“woww, that was quick. i’m impressed.” you praise drew.

he throws you a wink, “super dad.”

you giggle at his words while he hands her to you so he can get himself ready. the both of you were probably thinking about doing a brunch, so you packed liyah’s bag so you guys could leave as soon as he finished.

as drew walked out, liyah wasn’t having it. she started to get fussy and start whining when he was completely out of eyesight.

because of this, you paused packing some of her things. instead, you bounced her and patted her back, “ohh i know sweat pea, daddy’s just leaving the baby huh?”

although it could be a handful, you loved to see the bond she had with drew. she could be crying all night one second, but completely fine the next if she sees him right next to her.

calming down only a little, you were able to continue packing her bag. after 20 minutes of trying to keep her occupied, drew finally was done.

he takes the bag from you, “where we headed first, mama?”

“well i know she’s gonna get hungry soon and i definitely am, so let’s stop at our spot for brunch.”

before he can make another move, liyah reaches out for him and he takes her, “it’s clear who the favorite is.”

he smirks at you and all you can do was roll your eyes. it was the truth whether you liked it or not. “whatever. let’s go.”

laughing at your sentence, he puts his hand on the small of your back as you guys walk out of the room and out of the house, him also locking the door behind you too.

it’s the way he was able to multitask and do so much, while looking soo sexy, with a baby in his arm. it did really make you wanna give him another one earlier.

you made your way to the car and so did he, putting liyah in her car seat before entering the drivers seat. you guys headed down to the cafe that you and drew considered “your spot”, and you guys both planned to have your kids practically grow up with this cafe. it’s where you and drew both met for the first time, and all the memories you’ve made so far have been beautiful. you definitely weren’t going to stop making those memories anytime soon either.

—

arriving at the cafe, he grabs the baby bag and your purse while you put aaliyah in her carrier that was connected to you. eventually you would start putting her in the high chairs that the restaurants provided, but currently she was still in the phase where she needed to touch either mommy or daddy in public.

fastening the carrier, you and drew both walked in and saw familiar faces behind the counters.

“ah look! it’s my favorite person and her parents!” the owner jokes.

this makes you giggle and drew roll his eyes, “good morning to you too.”

you both find a spot and order your usuals. days like these you always appreciated. being surrounded by the people that make you happy and surrounded by peace.

drew started chatting with the owner while you chatted with his wife who also worked there. their daughter who was around your age had just had a baby herself, so there was already enough to go and chat over.

everything was going well, until of course you guys heard the whining. it was surely feeding time.

they watched you with smiles as you positioned her off your chest, but cradling her as drew handed you a bottle. as soon as you put it to her lips, she was completely calm again.

“that is really your twin, y/n!” the woman says.

“you think so?” you really only said this to hear her say it again, knowing how much she looked like you. you didn’t just cook her up for 9 months and pop her out for her not to look like you.

“most definitely,” she smiles.

“she may look like me, but that’s her true favorite right there.” you pointed at drew.

“really?” the owner asks.

“oh for sure,” drew says as he just admires the both of you. “i always tell her, mommy’s twin but daddy’s girl.”

he makes your eyes roll for what seems like the 50th time this morning, but he just laughs and kisses your cheek.

“when you have a son, he’ll most likely be a mamas boy.” the owner affirms.

“well, i guess we’re just gonna have to test that theory out.” drew says as he wraps an arm around you.

and that was just your main goal in life, to expand your growing family even more with him.

#barbiiecams #drew starkey #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey angst #drew starkey headcannon #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron

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ferrstappen · 1 year

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what happens with the kids? l Max Verstappen x reader

a/n: *sigh* I'm so done with this season bc I just know we'll be getting the same podium every other career and my tifosi dreams are just crumbling... also can we please just talk about that driver introduction like?????

anyway, this is based on this request I got the other day! thank you for requesting and sorry it takes me so long write the requests, but uni is kicking my ass <3

genre: angst oop

pairing: Max Verstappen x female reader. Lando Norris x reader but not serious.

warnings: divorce, kids, not proofread.

summary: Max really didn't have to find a girlfriend that soon after the divorce, and the fact that his girlfriend had a daughter of her own, didn't really help your case.

It's safe to say you never really saw it coming. or maybe you did, but tried to ignore it as Mila and Luca had just celebrated their third birthday, with the second half of the season looming over your household, Max said the the words you never thought you'd hear.

I think we need some time apart to figure out some stuff.

At first you didn't really process it. Why would you possible need time apart? The twins were so young, you needed all the help you could get and things were good.

That's what you thought.

He said it was hard to continue your marriage if you couldn't keep him company or support him the way you used to, before having kids. Maybe he was oblivious to the disbelief showing on your features, trying to comprehend if he really needed to be reminded of your two young children, who had strict hours. You didn't feel the need to remind him that just three weeks ago Mila had to go to the emergency room for an allergic reaction, and a week before that, Luca was questioning you about why his dad wasn't around as much.

Max rubbed his left hand on the nape of his neck, obviously trying to ignore this part of the conversation, seeing as you eyes became teary and your eyes tried to find his blue ones, but he avoided them at all costs.

Then, it was time to bring the kids to a race, Austria to be specific. It was strange to walk without him on the so familiar space, holding Luca and Mila's hands, making your way to the Red Bull hospitality where Max was supposedly waiting for his family.

During the walk, you were greeted by most people from every team; engineers fist bumping the twins, Lando and Max Fewtrell giving you a side hug before trying to talk with Luca and Mila. Yet, when you reached your finishing point, Christian Horner's eyes opened widely, like his mind was trying to process something.

The Red Bull team principal was clearly distressed as he walked towards the three of you, greeting you as usual, but offering to take the twins for a quick tour, telling you there was a new snack bar the engineers had created and they should get to know it.

It didn't take long to realize the brit knew something you didn't.

A feeling you couldn't explain sank on your stomach. Your cheeks were already flushed, palms turned sweaty and suddenly your subconscious was trying to convince yourself that it couldn't be that bad, whatever it was. The world shook and your vision slowed down when you noticed a gorgeous black-haired woman, leaning against your husband as he laughed at something she said.

Your trembling legs managed to silently take a step back, trying to hold back the tears as you left the room, watching as Christian was still entertaining the twins, following you as the kids noticed you.

"Christian, can you please call Max to tell him we're here?" Somehow, with some divine strength, you were able to get the words out, ignoring Christian's glare as if he was trying to ask if you were okay.

In a matter of seconds, Max had joined you, receiving Mila and Luca with open arms. He wasn't aware of the fact that you already knew the reason he wanted a time off wasn't because he didn't get to see you, or that you couldn't make the effort to travel with the kids.

No.

Just as Christian had suggested, the kids went with him as Max directed your way to a secluded space. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't "I want a divorce"

He blinked. Once. Twice. "What do you mean you want a divorce?"

A snicker left your lips, was he trying to play dumb? You knew Max Verstappen as the palm of your hand. You knew him better than yourself.

You didn't need to see him kissing the black-haired woman, or holding hands, or even touching her.

Max's eyes, your husband's eyes, expressed everything you needed to know.

It wasn't important that he berated you for dropping this news right before Red Bull's home race, that his eyes tried to find yours but were unable to, as your crossed your arms as if that would protect you from the heartbreak and sudden change of plans; from a happy couple, a merry marriage and joyous family, to a life of weekends separated, of preparing their bags on Friday night, of being civil for the sake of the twins during their birthday...

And because you knew him so well, the relief that flashed through his blue eyes didn't pass unnoticed by you, because it wasn't him who said the words. He was guilty, but he didn't take the shot.

Your girlfriends always joked about his friends always were the first ones to reach out after a break up, making you laugh until text messages and Instagram DMs started rolling in: Red Bull engineers and mechanics, Lando Norris, Martin Garrix, among others.

Hey! I heard about you and Max, just wondering if you are okay and want to meet up some time?

It didn't take long to accept one of their offers, having messy nights with a British driver and multiple people from the paddock, but it was never meant to be more. and it absolutely wasn't, but it was early Sunday when the concierge called to inform the arrival of Max and the twins. Of course you didn't hear, Lando's body pressed against you as his soft snores invaded the bed you once shared with Max.

and obviously, Max being as restless as always, decided to just take the direct elevator to the penthouse overlooking Monte-Carlo. That's what made Lando open his eyes, very widely, as you hastily walked him towards the walk-in closet so that he could get dressed and not be seen or heard by Max.

Not that it mattered, but you were capable of putting family peace in front o making your ex-husband jealous.

"Hello my sweets!" Mila and Luca made their way into your arms, not caring about their backpacks making things a bit uncomfortable. "Did you have a good weekend?"

Luca started blabbering about papa's new place, the dishes Max's girlfriend cooked for them, and the incredible time they both had with Sara, the daughter of Max's girlfriend. There obviously was a bond between the three children, both arguing about how Sara liked them more than the other.

Max hadn't had the time to greet you or ask about your weekend, his gaze fixing on an orange hat.

"Since when do you own McLaren merch?" Max questioned you, pointing the foreign object, the logo being unusual on the household.

Ignoring how your heart skipped a beat, feigning ignorance your body turned to where Max's finger was pointing. "Oh, I don't know? I think someone gave it to me at one of the races. Long time ago, though."

That's when both Max and you noticed the twins were gone, probably on their bedroom unpacking or searching the kitchen.

Max took a couple of breaths, his eyebrows scrunched and eyes trying to find yours, not even attempting to hide his feelings. "Are you hooking up with someone from McLaren, (Y/N)?"

Your eyes widened, then took a step back trying to see if you heard him right. "Why would you even ask me that?"

Max shrugged; "I have a right to know, in case they end up sharing time with M and Luca. I can't control how everything works during the week so I'd like to be kept in the loop."

This time it struck like lightning, the fury and anger and disillusion your heart was carrying. "You have no right, Max. Absolutely no fucking right to be kept in the loop about what goes on in my life,"

Max didn't flinch at your tone, "I didn't say about your life, I'm aware that we are divorced, I'm talking about Mila and Luca,”

"I always think of them, they're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I go to sleep. They're always on my mind and never leave, and I would never do anything to hurt them or even cause them the tiniest bit of disappointment. You have no right to come here and tell me you want to know about what goes on in here, because you are the one who chose to leave us in the first place," You vented, with Max's blue eyes fixed on you he was trying to keep his composure, but you knew he was uncomfortable.

"We are not having this conversation now, (Y/N). It's over, now it's just about the kids," Max added with a slight roll of his eyes.

"When are we having this conversation, then? When are you going to tell me that you wanted to separate because there was someone else already? that I wasn't enough for you? not even our kids were enough to make you doubt your decision to leave me, and it feels terrible and I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to feel the same because I'm shattered, Max." The words felt like someone was ripping your heart out of your chest, leaving you vulnerable as the thoughts became real, they were out there, but then it was followed by a bittersweet relief of not holding back anymore.

He noticed the tears and hiccups as you tried to make the point. His eyelids trembled as his hands meant to reach out to yours, pull your body to his, squeeze your waist and kiss your hair while assuring everything was going to be just fine.

That was the moment he realized that wasn't his place anymore, probably would never be again. Max didn't even think about that while signing the divorce papers, he didn't bother to show up to anything, sending a lawyer to do whatever was needed, and now it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.

His realization was cut short as the kids came running, Luca placing the McLaren hat on his head, ignoring Mila's voice telling him it wasn't daddy's team.

"I think this is when you leave, Max,"

You managed to keep your voice from quavering and erasing every trace of a tear, telling the kids to say goodbye to Max.

Yeah, this wasn't what Max had in mind for his Sunday morning.

#max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen au #max verstappen #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen angst #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #lando norris x reader #max verstappen blurb

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showtoonzfan · 3 months

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Ganna rant about Episode 4 of Hazbin again. For starters it has the same issue that Seeing Stars did for Helluva boss, that being Loona giving Octavia advice in comparison to Husk giving Angel advice. While the characters situations are different, both Loona and Husk were the wrong characters to pick to give advice, or simply just comfort the other character. I’ve already seen some people say that Charlie or Vaggie should have been the one to cheer Angel up, and that would have made more sense. They’ve known him longer and it’s in character for them to do that. For it to be Husk, not only does it feel forced as an excuse to just hook Angel up with a boyfriend and get the shipping fuel going, but it doesn’t make sense narratively.

In Loona’s case, her situation was flawed because she just MET Octavia, didn’t know a thing about her struggles and spouts to her about how she should be thankful just because her dad is “trying”, and the show tries comparing both girl’s situations when they’re not the same. This is practically the same situation with Angel and Husk. While Husk is aware of Angel, he barley knows him. He hasn’t been at the hotel that long considering the pilot took place only a week ago. On screen, all that Husk knew about Angel was that he was a porn star who constantly flirts with everyone, him especially, and we as the audience only see that and only that when the two interact. However episode 4 claims that Husk can see right through him and know that this is all part of his persona that he displays. If we had more time with these two characters outside of flirty banter scenes, this would make more sense, but instead it’s all tell and no show, being rushed with the little time we’re given. Husk even says that the hotel residents go to him to rant their sorrows while they’re drunk and even THAT happens off screen and that’s the problem, the audience has no reason to believe that Husk knows Angel deep down or even cares enough to want to help him, in our eyes, all Angel’s been doing is sexually harassing him.

There’s no reason why these two need to have an emotional scene together, it’s unearned and unwarranted because we haven’t had enough time with these characters, just like Loona and Octavia, there’s just no purpose or buildup. I also resort back to what I’ve said before: Husk selling his soul to Alastor is not the same as Angel selling his soul to Valentino. The show tries to compare Angel and Husk’s situations and it’s just not comparable because Alastor isn’t a rapist who’s trapping Husk to sell his body and be used like a rag doll constantly. Had it been something like “you’re a drug abuser and I’m an alcoholic”- THEN that would have worked, but that’s not what we get, and this leads me to talking about why “Loser Baby” isn’t good.

Some people have already misinterpreted my opinion, so here’s a few things. Is the song in character for Husk? Yes. Is the song about Husk telling Angel not to act and just embrace himself? Yes. On its own, the song is fine outside of some distasteful lines. The CONTEXT, execution, and placement of the song is the issue. Episode 4’s whole purpose is to see just how much Angel suffers. He’s forced to work like a dog at the studio day in and day out, and he gets abused and SA’d by his boss and other demons constantly. He doesn’t have a say in anything and can never say no because he’s under contract. He can’t Fizz his way out of this one and just go “I quit”, he’s literally forced to work in the porn industry wether he likes it or not, and we see all of that on screen. We also explore just how much this affects him. They reveal some pretty dark stuff here, how Angel doesn’t even want his position as a famous porn star and is so desperate to be numb from the pain and suffering he endorses that he’ll get high constantly and let people drug him for nefarious reasons, it’s his escape. They dump ALL of that info onto us, only for this bullshit to come up:

So the writers slut shame him, call him a freak and an addict to laugh at because “haha he’s addicted to drugs and a slut”, even though we JUST got done with a scene that confirms HE DOES ALL OF THIS AS A TRUAMA RESPONSE. He said himself he does the drugs and is addicted to numb the pain, and his own flirting (while problematic) is shown to be an act of him hyper sexualizing himself due to what he goes through. It’s not excusable but it’s still a fact, and we’re supposed to LAUGH at him??? That’s what’s wrong with his character and what continues to be wrong, because Viv sees him as the butt of the joke. Every line of dialogue he has is always about sex and how we should laugh because he’s a slut, an it comes off as so distasteful and insensitive to not only people who have been abused/SA’d, but porn actors in general. We’re supposed to laugh when he talks about cock and sex, but the reason he’s doing it is so dark that we shouldn’t be laughing about it at all cause he’s a VICTIM, yet Viv thinks it’s funny. It’s so disgusting and makes my stomach twist. Angel is trapped being in a position he doesn’t even want to be in, yet his entire character revolves around comedic sex jokes, and once you figure out the reason behind said sex jokes, it feels so wrong.

And this is why Loser Baby doesn’t work. Aside from everything else I’ve already said, It doesn’t line up with what Angel is going through, it doesn’t line up with the rest of the episode. If you wanted Angel to have this arc about realizing he doesn’t need to stick to his persona, fine, but you should have done it in a different episode. This is why Husk comes off as telling him to just suck it up and stop whining rather than what he’s actually trying to say. It looks bad with how they executed it, it just looks like he’s telling an SA victim to get over it and stop whining and what’s worse is they compare their situations when it’s not the same. You literally have a scene of Angel telling Husk he lets people drug him, and not even a minute later Husk is calling him a loser. That’s the issue. The show doesn’t know how to read the room, build character relationships slower, is just so incredibly tone deaf and is hypocritical. We’re supposed to feel bad for Angel cause he’s sexualized to the maxes and is having trauma responses of that, but then we’re also supposed to laugh at him and his sex jokes while also finding him hot. Pick a fucking side Vivienne, the show wants to have its cake and eat it too and look where that’s gotten us. The writing is a fucking atrocious mess and yet it had so much potential if Viv actually cared enough to take Angel seriously, instead of just desperately wanting to give him a boyfriend, and a rushed arc where he magically feels better in the end.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #Angel dust #Hazbin hotel #Vivziepop #hazbin criticism #hazbin husk

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bingbongsupremacy · 4 months

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Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: reader is able to get pregnant, pet names, argument, idk what else.

Summary: It's getting harder and harder to spend time with your husband and you have some really important news. (Pre-Outbreak)

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

ABC List

*****

The room is silent, the only noise coming from our TV. Light bounces off of the walls, casting a small glow on the coffee table that moves.

I curl deeper into the couch, watching as the clock ticks by.

8:30....9:15....10:45....11:12...

Finally I hear keys jingling from the front door.

" You're still up? " Joel's voice is tired and raspy. He pulls off his boots, leaving them near the front door. " Is Sarah still up? "

I shake my head, rubbing my heavy eyes. " No. She's over at Gina's, down the street, for a sleepover. "

Joel wanders into the kitchen, pulling a can of beer out of the fridge. He takes a swig before heading towards the living room. For a moment, neither of us talks.

" You were supposed to be home at 6. " I glance over at the man. I take in his appearance. His eyes are dark from clear exhaustion. His shirt is covered in grime. It's obviously been a long day.

" I was. " He agrees, not saying anything more. He takes another sip of his beer. Condensation forms on the can, dripping down his hand.

His answer doesn't satisfy me. " Why weren't you? Why didn't you call? " I press.

This has been happening often. Every few days he stays out later than normal, most of the time, he 'forgets' to call.

Joel lets out a sigh, obvious frustration filling his expression. " I got caught up in my work. It wasn't supposed to go past 6, but stuff happens. You know that, babe. "

Irritation fills my body. " And you couldn't have bothered to, I don't know, check your watch and maybe call me? I was worried sick, Joel. I stayed up even though I have to be up at 6 for work tomorrow. " I push myself up, looking towards his face. Looking for something, something other than annoyance.

I was really hoping he'd be here at 6.

" I didn't ask you to do that. You could've gone to bed. Don't blame me for your decisions. I told you, I lost track of time. I don't have my phone on me when I'm working. " Joel's gaze meets mine.

Anger runs through my body. Usually I'm not this quick to anger but the hormones are driving me insane. The stress of unknowing along with Joel's careless attitude sends rage flowing through my body. " You really could give less of a shit about Sarah and me, huh? " I seethe, not thinking through my words.

Joel's eyes narrow. " What the fuck do you mean? " He starts getting defensive. " Of course I give a shit about you! I fucking work my ass off, for you two! " Joel's tone rises.

" Then why do you keep doing shit that makes us worry? " I exclaim. " You could have called at any point and it would've helped me feel better. I understand that you don't keep your phone on you while working, but is it really that hard to take a five minute break to call me? God-you need a break anyways! You'll fucking hurt yourself if you're constantly working. " My heart pounds. I stand up, trying to get some space between the man and I.

Joel stands up as well. His eyes burn into mine, sending a shiver of discomfort down my spine.

I hate when we get into arguments. My hormones and his exhaustion are mixing together to create a toxic cloud of anger and frustration.

" Like you'd even answer the fucking phone. " Joel rolls his eyes. " You've been so busy talking to your stupid fucking friends that it's nearly impossible to call you sometimes. "

He isn't wrong. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago, and I wanted-no I needed to tell someone. I wanted to make the announcement to Joel and Sarah important, something memorable. At the time, I just needed to tell someone else.

They've been there for me this entire time, helping me plan tonight. Helping me plan the dinner and gift for Joel.

A gift he never got to open and a dinner he never got to eat.

" Well I gotta talk to someone, Joel. You're never around anymore. " I snap.

" I'm working! " Joel lets out a breath.

" Your unbelievable. " I shake my head. I let out an angry laugh. " You know what, fuck this, Joel. You're not even listening to me. The point isn't that you're working late, it's that you don't bother to call home and tell me about it. I care about you, Joel. What-What if you got hurt? What if you got into a car crash or fucking died somehow? I'd have no idea because you don't bother to call me. All I want is one call, and that's too much to ask of you. " I push past the broad shouldered man. " Your dinner's in the fucking oven. It's your favorite. "

With that I storm upstairs, grateful Sarah wasn't here to witness the fight. I barely close the bedroom door before the tears start to flow.

Downstairs I hear Joel curse as he drops something on the ground. I lean against the door, doing my best to listen to the man below. His footsteps die off as he most likely settles onto the couch.

I just want him to call home.

_______

The next morning I leave before Joel wakes up. I send a quick text to Sarah, letting her know there's some food in the fridge.

My day seems to fly by. Piles of paperwork seem to disappear in minutes. Before I know it, it's time to head home.

An unsettled feeling wracks my stomach, surely not a good feeling for the baby. I'm still pissed at Joel. I just wish he understood where I'm coming from.

I unlock the front door and am immediately met with silence.

No one's home.

I let out a small sigh, walking towards the kitchen. My eyes widen in surprise when I spot Joel sitting at the kitchen table, a pair of small shoes in his hands.

He found the gift.

Of course he did, I left it on the dresser last night.

" Surprise. " I state while making my way to the fridge. " You're gonna be a daddy. Again. " My voice is unenthusiastic. Not the way I planned telling him at all.

" I'm so fucking sorry. " Joel blurts out. He runs his rough fingers over the small white laces, following the rhythm of the string. " I'm an asshole. "

" That you are. " I agree.

Joel finally looks up at me. His sad expression breaks my anger. Suddenly, I'm torn. Do I keep acting angry or do I feel bad for him?

" I deserve that. I-I shouldn't have yelled at you last night. Pregnant or not- You didn't deserve that. I took out my anger on you. I've...fuck I'll just tell you. I've been working late to try to make some extra money for us. I wanted to take you somewhere for our anniversary. "

I take a seat next to him, shock filling my body. I had no idea.

" You're right, I should've called you. That was a dick move. I...I don't know why I didn't. I guess I was just scared I'd be tired and I'll accidentally tell you something? It doesn't fucking matter now. "

" Oh Joel..."

He continues. " I'm sorry about dinner last night. I should've come home. " He finishes, finally setting the shoes down into the small gold box I put them in originally.

I don't say anything. I wrap my arms around the man, sinking my head into the crook of his warm neck. " Yes, you should've called, but I shouldn't have have been so aggressive. My emotions have just been all over the place. " My eyes begin to tear up. I feel a tightness in the back of my throat as I pull away from Joel. " I feel so much angrier than I usually do. "

Joel pulls me back into his embrace. " It's okay, honey. It's the baby. It's okay. " He tries to sooth me. " I love you so much, and I promise, I'm going to cut back my hours. "

" And you're gonna call, right? " I look up at him from my spot against his chest.

" Yes, I swear I'll call from now on. I have to, what if something happens to you and the baby. " He furrows his brows in worry. " I'll call you every hour. I promise. "

I let out a small laugh, wiping a tear away. " I think every few hours is okay, babe. "

" No every half hour. Who knows what could happen. Your office has steep stairs-we should see if the elevator there is fixed yet. " Joel mutters.

" Okay that might be a little overkill. " I crinkle my nose. " How about you just call when you're going to be late. Alright? "

" I can do that. "

#fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfic #the last of us

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missmielyhoran · 11 months

Text

Denial

face calim- Lily James

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others

Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.

View all comments.

Harryfan1 Milf fr

Harryfan2 Where are the kids?

Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.

Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time

Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff

Y/Nfan1 No me too

Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago

Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry

*****

They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.

A movie of your marriage dying.

You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.

"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.

"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?

"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.

"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.

You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.

Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.

"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.

"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.

"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.

"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.

You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.

You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.

Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.

"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan1, Annetwist, Harryfan4 and 1,987,456 others

Yourinstagram Mon chéri

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User1 Omg babiess

User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big

User3 I mean he's 13 now

User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry

annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much

Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺

User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭

User4 Harry didn't comment?

*****

When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.

Your whole life felt like a lie.

Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.

He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.

Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.

"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.

"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.

"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.

You should have seen the signs.

All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.

"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.

"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.

"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.

Five months...

They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.

"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.

"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.

"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.

"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.

Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.

How can things change so fast?

"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.

"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.

For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.

"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.

"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.

"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.

Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.

"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.

"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.

"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.

Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.

"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.

The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.

You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.

You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?

The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.

You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.

You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.

Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.

But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.

You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.

"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.

You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.

You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.

It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.

You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.

Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.

You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.

You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.

Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.

You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?

You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.

Oh god the kids...

What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?

You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.

*****

Harry was getting scared.

When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.

You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.

He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?

He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.

His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.

"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan2, Y/Nfan4, Harryfan5 and 482,786 others

Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.

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User1 Why she looks so sad?

User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.

User3 What happened?

User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.

User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures

User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?

User3 Omg yes I didn't realize

*****

You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.

If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.

You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.

The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.

You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.

"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.

"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".

That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"

You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.

"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.

"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.

"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.

You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.

"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.

"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.

"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.

You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.

So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.

"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.

"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.

"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.

"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."

Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.

"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.

"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.

Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.

Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.

*****

Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.

He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.

Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.

He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.

But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?

She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.

He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.

"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.

They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.

He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan2, Harryfan4 and 1,002,789 others

StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.

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Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf

Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister

Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.

Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww

Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨

Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious

Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday

*****

Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.

You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.

"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.

"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.

"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.

You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.

"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.

You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.

"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.

"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.

"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"

Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.

You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.

But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.

They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.

Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.

Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.

Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.

*****

Same day in evening-

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Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?

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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?

Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated

Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures

Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked

Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.

Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden

*****

Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡

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