#this post is half max and half all the others together and i think that says it all lol

[nouvellevqgue]

FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR

req: Saw your post for smau requests, maybe a Max Verstappen where people don't realise his girlfriends account is you know her official verified account. Because practically every single post is about Max. Full on fan behaviour, in the sense she was his first fan as his childhood friend, she has been there supporting him since they were kids, and now they're adults and together, but some habits doesn't change.

(bonus if the posts makes people question why she choose Max as her mans.)

summary: everybody knows that this account is full of max. from his first win to now, from his most random things to his glory time, she's always there to post his pictures. they only know her as his friend and nothing more, but who is she actually?

2016 - 2018

verstappenight

liked by maxverstappen33, and 1,942 others

verstappenight WOOOO P1🏆🏁 congratulations to you maximus, i'm soo proud of you!

view all 125 comments

maxverstappen33 I won't say anything about the name Maximus, but thank you 😄

danielricciardo Well deserved! 👍🙌

username look how young he is

username I love a supportive fan ^^ Plz post more of this man.

   ⤷ yourusername glad to be on your service, ma'am

username how old is he?

username He's so happy, he turns red.

username I usually don't trust redbull after Sebastian, but he might be my new exception🤷‍♀️

verstappenight

liked by danielricciardo, and 1,230 others

verstappenight that eyes glint with mischief. #throwbackthursday

view all 65 comments

maxverstappen33 Oh my god, I thought I trusted you by taking this years ago

   ⤷ yourusername never trust anyone

username The half smile😂

username He's been pulling the red string with Red Bull from a long time ago, and look at the hat. I bet it's not a coincidence.

username how is she even managed to get this out? this looks so ancient

   ⤷ username It's not ancient, it's probably old, but not ancient.

danielricciardo He looks like he's planning to steal one of the cars steering wheel

   ⤷ username exactly! 😂😂

username if it's a throwback, how old is this pic then?

   ⤷ username i mean he looks way younger than him on her recent post, so just figure it.

   ⤷ username he always looks younger

verstappenight

liked by victoriaverstappen, and 963 others

verstappenight how is it feel to have a duplicates?

view all 72 comments

maxverstappen33 Why are you taking the second one?

   ⤷ verstappenight and why are YOU posing to that one?

username Why is he looks younger and younger each time?

   ⤷ verstappenight i don't know, but i definitely recommend him to have a slug treatment for anti aging.

   ⤷ username username it's him in torro rosso, so that's why he looks more like a teenager.

username it's not even thursday yet, but i had a bad feeling for this week's throwback thursday.

verstappenight

liked by carlossainz55, and 3,573 others

verstappenight boo! happy halloween #throwbackthursday

view all 269 comments

username what did i say, my feelings are never lying

carlossainz55 Got you! 😆🤣

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 If I got a heart attack next week, it'll be completely your fault

landonorris is halloween on 29 or 30?

   ⤷ username depends on what region you're in, i guess?

   ⤷ landonorris don't guess, answer.

maxverstappen1 And how are you even managed to take this?? Seriously. yourusername

username I can't believe it's actually Carlos who did this

   ⤷ username Yeah, but I think this is so Carlos-like behavior.

username i would do that face too if someone dressed as scream beside me

username Who is running this fanpage?

username why are you liking him so much?

   ⤷ yourusername because he is so nice, cool, and he looks like sid from ice age which is my favorite character.

   ⤷ danielricciardo we got a whole stack of characters here: first we got maximus the horse from tangled, sid from ice age, and then what? jimmy neutron?

username 😂😂😂ajajaja mira su cara!

verstappenight

liked by redbullracing, and 3,782 others

verstappenight found this on twitter and now i can't stop laughing! can't wait to send this to my family group.

view all 90 comments

maxverstappen1 I really can't trust you with my digital footprint 🤦🏻‍♂️

   ⤷ verstappenight i found this on twitter alright, it's not taken by me!

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 Still.

   ⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh, someone's upset...

username who is this person behind this account?

username Why is his reaction is always looking so hilarious

username Max: 😦

username i feel him

username you sure it's not throwback thursday?

MID 2023

verstappenight

liked by charles_leclerc, and 97,182 others

verstappenight i changed throwback thursday with this questionable sense of max's fashion. hope that's alright.

photo credit via verstauri on twitter.

view all 348 comments

username NOOOOOOOOOOOO

username #bringbackthrowbackthursday

charles_leclerc If you get rid of throwback Thursday, how am I going to tease him?

   ⤷ verstappenight by searching it on pinterest🤷🏻‍♀️

username Is that real or photoshopped?

username Okay, I know throwback thursday is made a long time ago since 2015 but man I really miss it sm... 💔💔

   ⤷ verstappenight same, but some people don't need that old max (except for charles). we need the new one because life goes on -max via my message

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember saying it

   ⤷ verstappenight shut up

username oh cmon i know charles want it because he's in love with max

   ⤷ username should i be surprised?

   ⤷ username i mean if there's no throwback thursday, who's going to tease him with his past when she's not there

   ⤷ username Daniel and Lando or Y/n could...

   ⤷ username oh come on, i don't even know who's the person behind this account anyway, for EIGHT YEARS

   ⤷ username As if you've never heard of twitter, just search her username and you'll see her REAL face.

THE TWEET SHE MEANT:

verstappenight

liked by schecoperez, and 113,809 others

verstappenight guess which one is the real one

view all 462 comments

schecoperez The first one of course!😂🤣

username since when did checos ass becoming that juicy

   ⤷ username since he listened to daddy yankee's song on repeat

   ⤷ danielricciardo His actual morning routine:

username the first one because what else would he be doing if not eating omelette and seeing checo's ass in the morning

   ⤷ username even checo himself agrees

username I'm glad that she still post here, even though there's no throwback thursday anymore😞😔

   ⤷ username but i guess even though we did not have throwback thursday anymore, we still have this crack post of him😄

TWITTER, 3 DAYS AFTER THE COMMENTS ON VERSTAPPENIGHT'S DADDY POST:

maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! 2h

ON THE OTHER HAND, HER ACTUAL IG:

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 82,147 others

yourusername good moooorniiiiinggggg from my room<3

view all 97 comments

username Thank God it's not private

username damn yall work faster than the fbi

username Anyone come here from twitter?

username Omg I've never realized max pulled this hottie ever since they were born

username THIS IS VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN?????

   ⤷ username eight years of waiting is finally getting payed off..

username why are you even choosing max to be your man when there's charles or daniel who's sexier

   ⤷ yourusername sometimes i don't need looks to see to be having someone like max. he's my best friend first, and i'm glad i choose him right the first place.

   ⤷ username Oh that's sweet...

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too, My biggest fan.

   ⤷ username I LOVE YOU TOO??????💔💔

   ⤷ username oh my god max is having a REAL relationship with a fan account admin

   ⤷ username AWOOP🚨🚔 THEIR MEDIUM LAUNCH????

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, and 278,903 others

yourusername nobody knows that this phone addict is once my best friend. happy birthday maximus! 🥳🤍

view all 486 comments

landonorris happy birthday facebook dad.

maxverstappen1 I once again not going to take the Maximus name. It makes me feel like a horse from Rapunzel.

   ⤷ yourusername wait, you've watch tangled before?

danielricciardo Happy birthday, Big boy.

redbullracing Happy birthday to our number one champion! 🥳🥳

username awww baby maxiee🥺🥺🥺

lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate!

carlossainz55 To be honest, your real account is sometimes still kinda feels like your other one.

   ⤷ yourusername force of habit probably?

   ⤷ carlossainz55 No, it's because you're acting like Max's biggest fan everywhere.

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 That's probably because she is.

   ⤷ yourusername wipe that smug smile off your face while you're typing

username He looks the same weirdly or not

username AHA I FOUND YOU VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN

username i love how she just hanging to his arm like they're been a couple since god knows how long

username SHE'S SOO LUCKYYY

username i'm gonna melt

username i feel like it's a hard launch, but she have been doing this for a long time ago

sophiekumpen 🥳🥳🥳

maxverstappen1

liked by zedd, and 627,834 others

maxverstappen1 How was I going to get her bad side if she's there and looking so beautifully?

👤: yourusername, verstappenight

view all 446 comments

landonorris poetic. remember your other girlfriend's waiting

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember having another one?

   ⤷ charles_leclerc How are you even forget about us?

yourusername awww i can't believe you tag the fan account one too!! i love you so much!!!

   ⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too❤️

username #justiceforcharles #lestappenforever

username SHE'S SOOOO CUTE no wonder max pulled her

victoriaverstappen I didn't know you pulled this cutie

   ⤷ danielricciardo Me too until I found out yesterday at the club

username poetic max is going to be the end of me

username I really had a bad feelings of he becoming poetic and gets all over like this

username Okay, this is max's hard launch. And now I'm waiting for Y/n's

   ⤷ username i thought she already doing it for so many times at verstappenight? ���🤭

yourusername

liked by redbullracing, and 579,420 others

yourusername 💌

📸: landonorris

view all 461 comments

username PARENTS CONFIRMED???

username YESS (adopt me pls)

username is verstappenight still going to be there? let's see for the next two days...

username verstappenight nation how do we feel after this? (we can get a new max pic daily)

username i'm gonna thank lando forever for this

username With the bouquet, the dim light, and the black and white + sepia filters. What are they doin that night?

username AWWW ROMANTIC😍😍

danielricciardo They left Charles in the back that night

⤷ landonorris aww poor him. but anyway...

username how are you converting from lestappen to this one so fast?

TAGLIST @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

��repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {7} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader, Max Verstappen x fem!reader Summary: After everything, you get a happy healthy ending. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff. WC: 4.5k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

Your Playlist:

Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie

Pretend - Secondhand Serenade

No Right To Love You - Rhys Lewis

You Broke Me First - Tate McRae

Lose You To Love Me - Selena Gomez

The Night We Met - Lord Huron

Wicked Game - Violet Orlandi 

Charles’ Playlist:

Your Call - Secondhand Serenade

The Loneliest - Mäneskin

Roses And Butterflies - Making April

Amnesia - 5sos

Miserable At Best - Mayday Parade

Love Is Gone - Slander

The Man Who Can’t Be Moved - The Script

Charles was spiralling with every mile that grew between where he was and where you were. The only updates he had from you were in the form of photos on Instagram and his concentration went into waiting for your next post instead of the preparation for the final free practice of the day. He had sent you enough unanswered messages to know you were ignoring him and it hurt more than he dared let on.

“She’s not home yet,” he said as he caught up to Max in the paddock. It was half a question and half a statement, but he needed some sort of confirmation.

“I know.” Of course Max knew. You kept in touch with him, sending him sporadic messages when you stopped to take in the beautiful countryside on the quiet roads. It should have been a four hour drive but you were content to make it last the day so you didn’t have to think about what you had left behind. 

Max looked like he was going to say something else but he closed his lips as an arm curled around Charles’ waist. Whatever information he was going to offer was replaced with a simple, “I’ll see you later.”

Charles turned to Charlotte and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “I thought you left.”

“Because we had one little fight?”

“I would hardly call it little.”

“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, now that Y/N’s gone things will be so much easier between us. We can get back to how we used to be. We are good for each other, Charles.”

Charles briefly entertained the idea of pushing her away but then he remembered how lonely it was sleeping by himself. It was completely stupid to even think the relationship could go back to how it was but he was selfish, if he couldn’t have you then settling for her was going to be the next best thing. 

“How about we talk after practice?” His voice was full of defeat and Charlotte knew she had already won as she kissed his cheek and let him go.

“I’ll wait in your garage.”

He faked a smile and headed after Max.

The air was stale when you stepped into the apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as you dragged yourself down the hall and into your room. Charles’ bedroom door was still half open, the bed unmade and clothes spilling out of his drawers, sending a pang of hurt to your chest before you pulled it shut. You collapsed face first on your bed and just managed to send a message to Max letting him know you arrived safely before you let your emotional exhaustion take you under. You didn't bother to text Charles, he was probably busy anyway.

Dawn came with all the same enthusiasm that you woke with. The skyline was a watery grey and even the birds failed to raise any sort of trill with their woeful calls down on the mariner. Dew clung in the air and on your cheeks as you opened the balcony door and chased away the stale air from being closed up for weeks since the last visit. 

Your memory here before the lockdown began didn’t hold a lot of details but you did remember the aroma of coffee drifting up from the cafe below the building. Unfortunately there was only the tang of salt and storm on the air as you inhaled deeply before making the call that was long overdue. 

As expected your father answered straight away, the confusion clear in his voice as he realised that his little night owl was up at dawn. “Hey kiddo, is everything okay?”

“Can we have a donut day?”

You could already hear him moving around the house and he must have covered the microphone as he said a muffled goodbye to a sleepy Pascale. “On my way.”

Donut day was created the day you got your first period. As a panicking solo dad he had rushed to the supermarket for supplies, but he left with mostly donuts and other treats. Thankfully Betty was better prepared and soon arrived with everything you needed, along with calm instructions on how to use them. After that, any day that was absolutely terrible was called a donut day. You and your father would sit on the couch and scoff down a box of donuts until the comfort food worked its magic. 

You paced the living room until the doorbell rang and practically tore it off the hinges in your haste. You really hadn’t noticed just how lacklustre months of video calls were until you threw your arms around your dad and buried your face in his shirt. Video calls couldn’t capture the smell of his aftershave or the feel of his beard when he kissed your forehead like you were still a little kid. 

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He pulled back to look at your face and his brows pinched together. “Rough night?”

You snorted a laugh but it cracked in your chest and your head fell down. “The last time you asked me that was in Monaco too.”

“I remember. Is this about a boy?”

You nodded and took a seat on the couch while he pensively watched from where he stood. “Will you sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

He huffed and went to the kitchen instead, grabbing a plate and emptying a bag of pastries onto it. “This is the closest to donuts I could find, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s not about the donuts.” You picked at a pain au chocolat while he took a seat and grabbed a pain au raisin. “I…”

You didn’t know where to begin or what to say, you just knew you had to get the truth off your chest so you could try to move on. Maybe by admitting the mistake you made, it might somehow ease the guilt you were carrying.

“A boy, right?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “The same one actually.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead.“From when we visited?”

“The very same.” You swallowed but the pastry seemed to coat your throat and you nearly choked before you abandoned it. “It was Charles.”

“Oh,” he said with a nod before it seemed to connect and his eyes widened. “Oh…well…shit..”

“I should have said something sooner but I didn’t want to make things awkward for you and Pascale but I…I really fucked up, dad.”

You could practically see his thoughts crossing his face as he remembered how you had called him the first day, asking to stay anywhere else. A heavy sigh fell and he seemed to deflate into the couch cushions. “I thought you were with Max?”

Your eyes narrowed but you didn’t deny it. “How do you know that?”

“Charlotte posted a picture of you and him the other night.”

“That bitch is a-”

“Uh-uh, no,” he tutted. “Correct me if I am wrong but I am going to assume you and Charles have been more than just friends…” 

Your silence was damning. 

“I don’t think you have the moral high ground to go around calling her a bitch then. I raised you better than that. Does Max know about Charles?”

“Max knows everything,” you admitted quietly, still feeling the sting of the reprimand. “He’s good for me.”

“Okay, so then what’s the problem?”

“I just really thought it was a chance - with Charles. We made plans, a future, I could see it.” Now all you saw was the note on the table and how he chased after Charlotte. “It was stupid and naive and I feel so embarrassed.”

“Love makes everyone stupid at some point.” Your father sighed again before wrapping his arm around you. “So Max huh? You know he’s got a bit of a reputation. Bit of a hot head.”

You wiped away the tears that had been building and scoffed. “Don’t believe everything you see in the media. They portray Charles as this wholesome boy next door and Max as an angry man child. Both are wrong.”

You grabbed the pastry and ate it, this time able to stomach the idea of food, before grabbing another. It wasn’t as sweet as a donut but the sugar from the chocolate was starting to hit your blood and perk you up.

“I can’t live here anymore. Not Monaco,” you corrected when you saw his eyes widen. “Just here, with Charles. I need somewhere away from him.”

You didn’t know the exact reason why your mother left but you thought maybe she felt like this, maybe it was healthier to leave than to stay. 

“The house isn’t finished but the kitchen and your bathroom are done, so it’s livable. You’ll need some moving boxes. A lot by the looks,” your father said as he stood up and looked around the room to see your belongings strewn across the place. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture?” you asked as he made his way to the door.

He scanned your features that reminded him so much of your mother. “You look like you’ve learned your lesson to me. Do you need one?”

You shook your head meekly and he nodded to himself. “I’ll be back with some boxes soon.”

“Hello, handsome,” you greeted Max as soon as the video connected. He had just returned to his hotel after qualifying and securing the 5th starting place on the grid. “I’ve found a new hobby, painting.”

His smile brightened at your mood that had dramatically lifted in the past 24 hours and you showed him around your new bedroom. Paint bottles lined a sheet-covered table and dirty brushes sat in a murky jar of water, but you panned across the wall to show him the artwork you had made.

“What is it?” he asked with a forehead crumpled in confusion. He tilted his head trying to see from a different angle but he still couldn’t process the splatterings - it reminded him of a Rorschach test, one he was doing badly at. 

“I didn’t say I was good,” you clarified with a laugh as you also tried to interpret the design that was no longer just on the walls. It was a good thing the carpet hadn’t been laid yet. You had tried to push the hair out of your face and smeared paint across your cheek and it had ended up everywhere by the time you were finished. “It is a mess just like me.”

“You're not a mess, schat,” Max said as he sat at the end of his bed and fell back to watch the tour of the rest of the house. “Are you okay there on your own?”

“It’s certainly quieter than the paddock, that will take a bit of getting used to, but I don’t mind it too much.” You did miss the other friends you had made at Ferrari, but felt it was best to give everyone in red a wide berth for a while. You had seen how poorly Charles qualified and knew he wasn’t at his best partly because of you. You still hadn’t been able to answer his calls or texts.

“Well, you could come back, if you want, you’ll always be welcome at Red Bull.”

“If you miss me, you can just say that,” you teased and he sat up.

He combed a hand through his damp hair and you bit your lip remembering how it felt to be the one doing that. “I do miss you,” he admitted seriously. “That’s why I’m coming back first thing Monday morning - I owe you breakfast.”

“You know there are no cafes open?”

Max smirked and the sight made your heart skip a beat. “Who said anything about a cafe?”

You wanted to know what his plans were but there was a knock at his door and Daniel’s voice reached you through the phone. Max was tempted to let Daniel continue pounding on the door but you both knew he wouldn’t leave quietly and Max groaned at that truth. “Go answer that, I’ll call you in the morning.” 

Max dragged his feet as he padded across the room. “I would rather talk to you.”

“Me too.”

“Finish the phone sex already, you pervs,” Daniel shouted through the door before Max ripped it open.

“Oh, oh, yes, Max, don’t stop,” you called out, turning Max’s ears pink as he rushed to turn the phone around and show Daniel the screen and just how fully clothed you were. “Sorry to disappoint you, Danny, no phone sex - this time.”

It was only when Daniel bent over laughing that you saw he wasn’t alone. Charles was out in the hallway with Carlos and Lando, his eyes falling to the carpet when you noticed him.

“We’re getting dinner, you wanna come?” Daniel asked, and thankfully the phone rotated back to Max who looked a little torn at the offer.

“He does,” you answered for him before he could decline just to talk with you a little while longer.

“I’ll call you in the morning, schat.”

“Okay, have fun.”

Charles found nothing to celebrate when the race ended so he made his way home before the rest of the crew even realised it. He thought his weekend couldn’t get any worse after he DNF’d. The only silver lining was that despite his better qualifying, Max had also failed to finish the race. But he still won where it really mattered when it came to you.

Charles pulled into the apartment complex and saw a new sleek black Mercedes AMG parked in one of his many reserved spaces and hope fluttered in his chest. He grabbed his suitcase and darted up the stairwell to his apartment, nearly snapping the key in his haste to unlock the door. That hope turned to ash when he found it eerily silent and every inch of the place perfectly tidy. It was unlived. 

The artwork you had purchased still hung on the walls and the shaggy rug he had made love to you on still covered the floor, but the spirit of it all was gone. The colours of the paintings were drained and the temperature controlled air was no longer comfortable. He didn’t even need to go to your room and check, he knew you were gone.

He knew you were gone the moment he saw you on the video call to Max. He had gone with his mother to her new house enough times to know what it looked like, even if it appeared that a rainbow vomited all over the walls. The truth just hadn’t really settled in until he stepped across the threshold and into the house that was once a home.

You had tidied the place as if you were cleaning a crime scene and needed to scrub away all evidence of being there except you couldn’t get it all. You still remained in the pantry cupboards where everything was labelled in your handwriting. You still remained in the linen closet where you folded the sheets and the towels into perfect rectangles. You still remained in the scented candles that sat on the centrepiece of the table.

Charles’ eyes stung as they lingered on the table where the keys to the apartment and the Mercedes sat, right next to his credit card and the picture you kept in your wallet.

Kicking the door closed, he abandoned his suitcase and rushed down the hall. His heart hammered knowing what he would find but he had to check as he pushed open your bedroom door. No, it wasn’t your bedroom anymore, it was a guest room. 

The feminine floral duvet his mother had chosen was gone, replaced with a plain white coverlet, and the windows were latched slightly open so whatever scent of yours he may have been able to save had already been cast away to the breeze. 

“Fuck!” he screamed as he punched his fist into the mattress. “Fuuuuucckk!!!”

Max must have left before Pierre had finished partying after his shock win. It wasn’t even morning really as the sun was still cresting over the hills, and it was far earlier than you were expecting him. You thought perhaps you were dreaming when you woke to a knock and opened the door to find Max on your front steps. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” you asked as you pulled him inside and inspected the bags under his eyes. 

“I’m better now,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. “I told you I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you murmured into his chest before pulling away so you could look into his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“I’ll be fine, I have plans first.”

“Your plans can wait.” You took his hand and led him through the house to your room that overlooked the mariner. Your blankets were still warm as you nestled under the covers and patted the empty space beside you. “You’re not going to be comfortable in jeans.”

“Five minutes and you’re already trying to get me naked,” he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head before he unbuttoned his jeans.

“I never said naked,” you pointed out. The air froze in your lungs as he pushed them down his muscular thighs and you swallowed at the sight before.

“I’m not wearing boxers.”

“No, you certainly are not.” Your tongue rolled across your lips as you drank in every inch of him, the idea of sleep quickly departing your mind. Almost everything departed your mind, except want. “I think I am overdressed.”

“You make a habit of that.”

“I do, don’t I. Maybe you should come help me fix that.”

Max didn’t need to be told twice, he had been waiting for this moment since he had the memory of how your body felt against his. He pulled the covers back and knelt between your legs, his hands roaming up your body and under the baggy shirt of a band he didn’t know. The morning air was cool on your skin as you lifted your arms and he discarded the shirt over the side of the bed. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he traced his lips over your racing pulse. A fiery trail of goosebumps remained where his kiss had been and he made his way to your lips before stealing the very breath from your lungs.

Your own hands went roaming, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch until you reached his proud erection. He shuddered above you and moaned into your mouth before he pulled back. “I need you,” you begged, unabashedly. “Please, Max.”

His hands reached for your panties and the lace tickled as he dragged them down your legs. Even with your begging, he didn’t immediately bury himself in you. He took his time, settling back between your legs. He gently massaged your inner thighs with his strong hands, his thumbs dancing teasingly close to your core until a strangled whine escaped you.

“Relax, schat,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

He shifted onto his stomach and dipped his head to your core. You lost the ability to think as he gripped your hips and tugged you right onto his open mouth. A wordless cry filled the room and it took a second to understand it was coming from you as you lost yourself in the pleasure Max was giving you. You knew Max had an internal drive to succeed at everything he did and this was no different. He was determined to taste you completely and drive you into oblivion with his tongue and his fingers before he thoroughly fucked you. 

Max looked wild and untamed as you came undone around his fingers and he savoured the taste of you on his tongue as he rose above you. His eyes were dark and his lips swollen, his chin was damp and his smile satisfied. 

“Hi,” he chuckled with amusement. “Feeling alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, because correlating a conscious thought into words seemed impossible as your body still trembled with aftershocks.

“Would you like a break?”

You reached between your bodies and wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him closer to your entrance. “No, I want you, Max.”

“Completely sober, right?” he confirmed as the head pressed to your wet core.

“Not quite,” you teased, his brows pinching together at the words, “I’m drunk on you.”

The relief in his eyes was palpable and you cradled his face in your palm as you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your bodies united torturously slowly and your eyes fluttered at the fullness when every delicious inch was seated inside, your lips parting with a heady sigh.

“Open your eyes, schat.”

You obeyed in an instant, watching him watch you before his eyes drifted down your bodies. His lip was pinched between his teeth and he groaned at the sight of your pussy taking him so well, something he made sure to tell you.

“Fuck,” you choked as his words made your cunt clench in response, each thrust burying him deep in your cunt until stars dotted your vision and you were tipped over the edge into another orgasm. “Fuuuckk…”

Six months later. “Babe, have you seen my shoes?” Your voice carried throughout the large penthouse apartment you had moved into with Max when the season ended. 

“Here, with your dress,” he called out from the living room. 

You followed his voice and found the luggage being neatly stacked by the door. He pointed to the two garment bags hanging from the coat rack and at the bottom of the longer one were your heels, next to his polished dress shoes.

“I packed your coat too,” Max said, kissing your temple as he passed to get the car keys.

With the COVID restrictions being lifted Pascale hadn’t wanted to wait a minute longer for the wedding, so winter nuptials in February was the go. At least they were taking place in Sicily so it would be a little warmer, but of course Max would think to pack a coat for when the temperatures dropped at night. He was always thoughtful like that.

“Did you want a coffee?” you asked as you turned on the machine and put your travel mug under it. It was only a three hour flight on Max’s private jet, but you hadn’t slept well with the knowledge you would see Charles for the first time since Christmas. 

Cordial is how you would describe that relationship. The familiarity and intimacy was gone, replaced with standoffish politeness. You were both trying to find where the line could be drawn on a platonic friendship that had the history of more and it was slow going. You didn’t want anything you said or did around him to be misconstrued. 

Max made you happy, and just as importantly, Max was healthy for you. You did sometimes wonder if he tried harder to be better because he had witnessed toxic relationships growing up. He knew how that toxicity could poison and break someone so there was a conscious effort in the way he spoke and acted to everyone around him. Even Charles. 

That was why he had offered his plane for everyone to use, including Charles and Charlotte. For better or for worse, Charles was going to be a part of your family in less than 24 hours and Max respected that. Like he said, he didn’t care about your past and your future was one with him.

“Schatje,” Max called, one hand on your waist, the other reaching past you to the overflowing mug in the coffee machine. “Everything alright?”

You came back to the present with a few blinks and turned in his arms, surprising him with a deep kiss as you fisted his shirt and pulled him closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He pulled back to see your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shake of your head but he saw right through it. “Everything you’ve done for me…a simple ‘I love you’ just doesn’t seem enough. I can never say it enough.”

Max’s hands cradled your jaw and he dipped his head to indulge in a slow but thorough kiss that had your stomach clenching with a fresh wave of desire. When he pulled back this time he smiled as he found the clear want and need for him written on your face. “It’s enough for me.”

He turned the machine off and poured the ruined coffee down the sink. “I’ll get you a proper coffee on the way to the airport. We should get going, can’t have the best woman be late for the rehearsal.”

“I think dad settled on the term groomsmaid,” you corrected with a laugh. You had nearly cried when he asked you to be his best man, before accepting the honour. It was fitting considering the bridesmaids were Pascale’s sons. “It’s not too late if you want to be a flower girl?”

He grinned and his eyes flicked to the door where the dress you had paraded for him last night hung. “I’m quite happy to sit back and watch.”

“If I recall, you didn’t sit still for long. I hope you have more self restraint for the ceremony.”

 “For the ceremony, yes. But as soon as we hit the hotel room you’re mine and that dress will be on the floor, I promise you.”

You bit your lip at the promise, knowing he would keep it just like every other one he had made. 

“We should probably go before I do something that makes us very late,” Max groaned, stepping away from your tempting body. 

“Ugh, fine.”

The ceremony was more than just a wedding and it represented the joining of the Leclerc’s and the Y/LN’s, something that had surprised you and also made you grateful for having waterproof mascara. You didn’t dare look at Charles when the celebrant spoke about the union of the two families, but Arthur grinned and Enzo winked, your father narrowed his eyes and you laughed.

The celebrant, thankfully, didn’t understand.

The cashmere coat Max had packed hung over the bag of your chair as night fell and you danced with him under the open stars. The only light came from the fairy lights strung around the stone pillars that had survived centuries on the island. His arms kept you warm as you swayed to the music and you spoke quietly to each other in a world of your own.

“Hey, can I, uh, can I cut in?” Charles asked hesitantly.

You took a deep breath as you debated the question, your eyes glancing around and quickly finding Charlotte at a table with Arthur and his girlfriend. You looked at Max to see if it was okay. He just smiled and kissed your cheek, whispering, “I’ll get us a drink.”

Charles waited until Max had made it off the dance floor before offering his hand, the other coming to rest on your waist. The first step was tentative, like he wasn’t sure you were actually going to follow his lead. “You look happy,” he said after a few more steps.

“I am.”

He nodded to himself, looking at Charlotte. “Good. That’s good.”

He looked miserable. “I hope you find real happiness one day.” You were being honest.

“I had it.” And he was being honest too. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever really apologised, not properly.”

“It’s fine, if it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have met Max.”

“It was meant to be us, though, right?” His eyes were begging you to agree with him but you had spent sleepless nights poring over the very same question.

“I think our paths crossed to make sure our parents met,” you admitted, smiling at the newlyweds as they danced too. You had never seen your dad happier.

“You really believe that?”

The song came to an end and you found Max returning from the bar with two drinks in his hand. “I have to,” you said as you slipped out of Charles’ arms. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step away from him.

“Why?” He took a step closer, only stopping when you took another step back and held up your hand. “Why?”

You took a calming breath and steadied your voice. “Because the alternative would only break my heart again.”

[captain-barnes-writes]

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part two

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. | part three |

Type: insta au

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: fluff, salty max, romantic carlos hehe

———

Liked by YourUsername, LandoNorris, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 best summer break yet 😉

comments

LandoNorris you included our golf date 😗

CarlosSainz55 date???

LandoNorris that’s exactly what I said 😑

DanielRicciardo and I wasn’t included in this date, why??? 🔪

LandoNorris we’re keeping it lowkey for now

Username my faves interacting 🥰

DanielRicciardo i spy with my little eye 👀

Comment liked by YourUsername and others

YourUsername 🌊

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55, DanielRicciardo and others

Username Ariana what are you doin here

Username Carlos & Y/N??🫢

Username she’s really homie hopping

Username it’s not even her 😐

——

CarlosSainz55 posted a story

replies

YourUsername I miss summer break & you♥️

CarlosSainz55 I miss you more amor, see you soon.

YourUsername almost bebé🤞

Username Best of luck!

Username How can somebody be so good looking😭

———

Liked by 15,786

Tagged: YourUsername

F1Wags Y/N was seen leaving Carlos Sainz home with not one, but two (!!) bouquets of flowers seemingly from the Spaniard. This comes after the two have been frequenting the same places recently. Y/N and Max Verstappen broke up more than 2 years ago and it’s the first time there’s been rumors of her being linked with anybody else since. In contrast, Max moved on to Kelly Piquet only a month after their breakup. Are we getting our favorite wag back? 🤔

comments

Username she’s got the rizz 😮‍💨

Username THE grid rizz

Username Am I the only one who really wants them to be a couple?

Username she couldn’t find someone else?

Username im on my knees

Username didn’t think we’d get Y/N as a wag again😍

Username imagine Max right now 🤣🤣

Username karma really came to bite him and I OOP😳

——

Liked by 20,458

F1Wags Y/N and Carlos Sainz were spotted kissing and getting cozy only a day after she was photographed leaving his home. We’ve got our favorite girl back, but now in Ferrari 🔴

comments

Username she really can’t leave the f1 drivers alone can she?

Username can you blame her?

Username if I looked like her I’d be through half the grid already 😮‍💨

Username she really waited so long, she deserves this

Username Max is screaming into his pillow rn 🫨

Username these races are gonna be so awkward 🫢

Username im shipping them already

Username not ashamed to say that’s my Ferrari girl!

———

MaxVerstappen1 posted a story

replies

Username 2 years later & you regret it just now?

Username the DRAMA

Username Max you’ve got your own family now?? What is this

Username after all this time & you’ve still kept your pictures with Y/N😨

Username sir have you forgotten you’ve got a girlfriend?

LandoNorris Take this down mate. I’m about to call you

MaxVerstappen1 This is so fucked up

LandoNorris she’s just moved on is all

MaxVerstappen1 but with Carlos out of all people?

MaxVerstappen1 deleted his story

——

Liked by 1,209,937

Tagged: YourUsername

CarlosSainz55 One whole year with you mi princesa 👸 I’m happy to have spent this last year just us two without being under the microscope of the whole world and though things are now different, I’m glad I get to experience this life with you. I love you ❤️‍🔥

comments

YourUsername Happy one year to us mi amor. Grateful for you always💕

CarlosSainz55 mi princesa

CharlesLeclerc happy for you guys!

Charlottesiine you guys are so great together❤️

Yourbff thanks for always filling her home with flowers, you really make her the happiest 🥹

LandoNorris what about carlando?

YourUsername he’s still yours too Lando!

LandoNorris I knew you’d still share him😏

Username new favorite duo

Username Max must be on the floor rn

Username ok but one whole year??

Username Max really unfollowed Carlos yikes 😶

MaxVerstappen1 has unfollowed CarlosSainz55

——

Liked by 700,689

Tagged CarlosSainz55

YourUsername hard launching on our one year❤️‍🔥 Grateful for you. I adore how you always show your love for me, we really give each other our all everyday no matter where in the world we are. I’m glad I get to experience this life with you (and Piñon!) I love you mi amor 🥰🥰

comments on this post have been limited

CarlosSainz55 I know what a soft and hard launch means now 😳 I love you mi princesa and so does piñon.

YourUsername with the amount of treats I give him he better love me 😶 te amo ♥️

Yourbff my favorites!

comment liked by YourUsername and CarlosSainz55

LandoNorris but carlando still lives on 😮‍💨

YourUsername I’ll never stand in the way 🫡

LandoNorris this is the hardest launch I’ve seen

CarlosSainz55 the smoothest 😈

TO BE CONTINUED

——————

I couldn’t wait to get this part out. I’ve come to really enjoy making these ☺️ hope you guys enjoy

[f0point5]

I had the time of my life, with you

Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

✨Set in Abu Dhabi 2021, right before the race✨

A/N: So it turns out setting myself deadlines actually works lol. I still have a love/hate relationship with these pieces. But, I have a special place in my heart for this one because I had the title in my head since like the second week of the smau and I didn’t use it for any other chapter because of that. And also it’s an Easter egg because in the AD bonus part Y/N uses it as a caption for her Instagram post as an Easter egg for Max ;) we love a mastermind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ramble.

You thought you knew tension. You thought, growing up like you did, you were more than familiar. The eerie silence, the glazed expressions as your mind tries to protect you from close the chaos is, the pit in your stomach, that heaviness of breath, that feeling of cold that goes down to your bones no matter the weather.

Fucking hell, were you wrong.

You’ve never known tension like this.

The garage is thrumming with energy. Everyone is going about their business quicker, deeper, quieter, than it seems like they ever have. The grandstands are filling up, music blasting over the speakers. There’s a palpable electricity in the air. You’ve been shivering all day, unable to get warm enough even in a jacket in the desert heat.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you wind through along the narrow corridors behind the garage to the small room that Max has been hiding in. For the first time in a while, you knock instead of going straight it.

You’ve barely seen him all day, he’s been pulled this way and that for a hundred interviews and briefings, ducking the Netflix crews who’ve never been so sycophantic. They made him a villain, and now they lurk like there’s blood in the water in case he becomes the hero. Selfishly, you’ve missed him, and when you’d said as much to Christian, he’d just nodded to the back of the garage.

“He’s taking a couple of minutes to himself,” Christian had said, fixing his gaze on you. “But you should go and see him,”

So you had. And as you heard a gentle “Come in,” over the noise of drills and loud dance music and stepped inside, you realised why.

This was tension, you thought as your eyes fell on Max. He was on the small couch, hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together almost as if he were praying. It’s like you can see every muscle in his body pulled taut under his fireproofs. He doesn’t even raise his head when you come in, but you suppose he glances at your shoes to know it’s you.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it. You’re not sure why, but it feels like you’ll bother him less from over here.

“Hey, champ,” you say, mustering a smile in case he looks at you. He doesn’t, at first. His eyes stay on the ground, and then, painfully slowly, his head lifts.

His eyes are still your favourite colour, his hair is still a bit too long, he’s still unshaven because he couldn’t be bothered even though he might be looking at pictures of this night for the rest of his life. He’s still Max.

“It’s a bit early for that,” he says, his half smile as delicate as yours. Yeah, still Max.

“Respectfully, I disagree,” you tell him crossing your arms over your chest as he looks up at you. “Since I can remember you’ve wanted to be a champion, and since I can remember, I knew you would be. That nickname is twenty years in the making,”

His eyes drop to his hands again and your heart drops with them. You’re trying so hard to say the right thing, but it was arrogant to think you ever had a chance. What experience in your frivolous existence would help you know what to say at a time like this. You wonder if you should just leave him to it as you fold your bottom lip between your teeth to chew at it as another shiver wracks your body.

“Twenty years,” Max says quietly, making you look over at him again. “It’s a long time,”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, nodding even though he’s not looking at you. You edge closer to him, and when he doesn’t react, you take a seat beside him. Not as close as every cell in your body tells you you need to be, but as close as you feel like he’d want right now.

“You don’t understand,” he says with a sigh.

You don’t respond, because you know you don’t. You’ve never committed to anything, loved anything, lived for anything, like this. This dream of his has outlived marriages, outlasted memories, predated a friendship that feels like it has been going on forever. It’s the only thing Max has ever wanted. You’ll never be able to understand, because no matter how much you love him, he loved racing first.

“Tell me what to say, Max,” you almost beg as you reach towards him. You can’t even hold his hand, so you just place yours on his wrist, fingertips resting against his skin at the edge of his sleeve.

You glance over at him, naively hoping he will look over at you and tell you what he needs from you. Because you’d do anything.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice the brings a lump to your throat.

You shake your head. “Don’t be. I know I don’t understand. No one can. Not me, not Christian, not Stan, not even your dad. You’ve outclassed your whole support system here,” you say this last part with a laugh, but it’s true. He’s alone now more than ever, he’ll stand on that top step alone, too. “We’re all so proud of you, you know,”

“I know,” he mutters, and it kind of breaks you how dismissive he is, even if you know why.

“Do you?” You ask him, leaning a little closer to him, but he doesn’t react.

He just continues staring at his hands as he untangles them, his left fingers curling backwards until they brush over your hand on his wrist, and you hastily slot your fingers into his as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Yeah.” He says, sounding more resolute this time.

“And you know that we’ll be proud of you, even if-“ you can’t even bring yourself to say it. “We’ll be proud of you regardless.”

“I know,” he says, “but it’s not enough,”

Despite yourself, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Max, I know that it’s not a trophy, but-“

“No,” he says, squeezing your hand to silence you. “It’s not that. I mean that it’s not enough, to come second.”

You grip his hand tighter as he lets out a laboured breath, his head lifting so he can stare straight ahead where the Dutch flag is pinned to the wall.

“We didn’t do all this to come second.” His voice is low and reverent. “My mum, Vic, I took so much from them. My dad gave up his whole life for this. You put your life on hold for this. It can’t all be for nothing,”

He’s never really said it, but you know what he means - this win is owed. He owes his mother a marriage, his sister a father, and his father a career. And none of that is in his gift, but if he can weigh a championship against all that sacrifice, then maybe he will be forgiven. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he’ll race with a clean slate. Without wondering whether he was worth the life he cost those around him, and the life he cost himself. And you want that for him. God, you want that more than anything.

You reach for him before you can stop yourself. Space be damned. You cup his cheek in your free hand and force him to look at you.

“Max, It won’t be for nothing.” You promise him, your nails pressing gently into his skin as if you’re trying to hold onto him. Like he might float away. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you. Even if you don’t win today, even if you never do, even if you shunt on the first lap. I had the time of my life with you this year. Being there for you will never have been for nothing,”

He wants to believe you, you can see it. But even if he believes that you all think that, he doesn’t think that. How do you tell him it’s worth it, when you both know there’s only one way for him to prove it?

“Do you want me to drive?”

Your question catches him off guard so much as that he snorts his laughter. You feel the air against your face as he falls back against the couch.

“I’m serious,” you say, grinning as you watch him. “I’ll put on the suit and the helmet and do the race for you, like Mulan. I did the track walk, I know where I’m going. Vaguely, anyway ,”

You’re making a meal of this mediocre joke, but you’ll do anything you can to keep him as carefree as he looks right now. With his head thrown back and the colour returning to his cheeks as his shoulders shake.

“Engel,” he says, his head lolling in your direction, “You really think you have a better chance of winning than me?”

You reach over to move a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, and his eyes follow your fingers.

“No, I don’t,” you say, letting your hand slide through his hair to rest on his jaw. “Because you, Max Emilian Verstappen, know how to win races better than anyone.”

Your thumb brushed across his stubbled cheek and he leans into it instinctively, just like the cats. The smile you give him feels more like one you remember, and the ones he returns reaches his bright eyes.

“Alright,” he says with a shrug.

He gets to his feet in one smooth movement, pulling you with him towards the door by your entwined hands that you’d quite forgotten about. He must have, too, because when he notices he squeezes your hand to get you to look up at him. When you do, your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.

“I better go and win, then,” he says lightly, pulling the door open.

No one will you believe you, but you know then that you’ll be looking up at him on that podium tonight, when he’ll be a world champion.

“You will.”

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi i @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson

[adventuringblind]

Hello,,, i was thinking about how xavi needs to move ASAP and how maybe you could do a leclerc/sainz x reader where xavi finally gets unemployed and reader is the new strategidt OR reader is a mechanic and is done with suffering bc of xavi and jist takes over the radio and they win because of her

I rlly love your writing and thank you for reading 🥲🥲💞💞

Radio Silence

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: chaos?

Summary: an overlooked Ferrari strategist and Charles beloved decided to take matters into her own hand

Warnings: misogyny, sexist comments, Xavi

Notes: one of my favorites I've done I think

Masterlist

Working is any male dominated force as a female makes life difficult.

You'd had just as much, if not more, experience and had been working with Charles since he came into ferrari.

You're young and female. It is a terrible combination in this world. Charles, although the best thing you could have ever asked for, is not the best at communicating with his team. He tries his best to make sure you're heard, but his team has a habit of not listening to him.

This combination is what makes for an interesting race. Spa had been difficult all weekend with the mixed conditions. You knew it was going to be dangerous and had tried to give your input on strategies but were dismissed.

You and Charles, however, had been working on this since the last race with these conditions.

Was Xavi upset he wasn't doing exactly as told? Yes. You could hear them on the radio. Charles was managing to stay calm and do what you two had talked about. You don't know how he does it. Sometimes, you want to throw his race engineer through the pit wall.

He manages to qualify second, which turned into a first after Max's penalty.

Now, you're determined to turn it into a podium. Where on the podium he falls doesn't matter to you. You just want to see your boyfriend end the first half of the season on a high.

He was doing incredible so far. Despite not having the best data for a dry track.

You watch the data on the pit wall screens and pray Charles doesn't give in the Xavi. The race engineer had been arguing with him all weekend.

Then, a stupidly bad call is made. You can see Charles is perfectly fine on his tires and can go at least ten more laps. But they are actively lying to him to get him to pit early.

You want to do something stupid. The ability to do so just at your fingertips.

You can hear your team principle asking what's going on and you take that as your queue.

You put hit the button that patched you into Charles radio. "Charles, your tires are fine. Do not pit early."

"Y/N? I'm confused."

"You have about ten laps on your current tires if your pace is steady. Your don't need to pit early."

He listens to you, and you see him drive right past the opening of the pit lane. You can hear your heart beating rapidly as he does so.

Charles places third. You're so proud of him for being assertive all weekend long. He could've placed last, and you wouldn't have cared.

It's the post race debrief that has everyone going insane.

"Y/N will be taking over as lead strategist after the summer break, and Charles will have a new race engineer for the rest of the season."

The horror on Xavi's face was something you would laugh at later. especially since he was just ranting about how you didn't deserve your spot.

You and Charles were so proud of yourselves and each other. What you accomplished you did together. That's more then you could've ever asked for.

And maybe putting Xavi in his place was just an added bonus.

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 6!!!

@cam-cat-writer @jackiemonroe5512 @finntheehumaneater @irregular-child @grimmfitzz @fantrash @bookworm0690 @fiddledeedee85 @hunterbow04 @strangeforest @just-a-tiny-void @jaimeweasley13 @thelittleclare @rebellatio-03 @sirsnacksalot @geekyfifi @sapphireoceansoc @salty-h0e @dragonmama76 @mentallyundone-blog @lingeringmirth @moomkin77 @netflixisacopingstrategymom @jaytriesstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @hellfirebaby-86 @blu3stars @blackpanzy @strawberryyyenthusiast @lololol-1234 @thestarslittleking @silenzioperso @forest-fogg @bebopbabyy @lawrencebshaggoth @stevesbipanic @dauntlessdiva @live0rdive @y4r3luv @jonesn4coffee @sofadofax @sensationalsunburst @scarlet-malfoy @l393ndjean @asspirin-s @fandomz-brainrot @mugloversonly @virginlemontea @littlebluejane @paintsplatteredandimperfect @astrid-nomically-steddie @maferisa-7 @phantomrose17 @thoughtfulbreadpolice @fandomnerd103 @atemisiscursed @croatoan-like-its-hot @myownworstenemyyy

(Sorry to anyone who’s tags are messing up, I’ll try tagging you in the replies when posted)

.

The Universe had a strange way of making Steve Harrington hate Life.

Like waking up in a hospital after simply trying to pick up Louie.

Ugh.

Because it was never “simply” anything anymore, right? Now it was monsters and other dimensions and asshole blonds with pretty eyes who liked to beat him half to death.

Oh. And a bunch of mouthy middle schoolers.

“Dude, you up yet?”

“Give him a minute, Mike! He was literally half-dead not even yesterday!”

“Well if he keeps groaning like a zombie I’m gonna assume he’s become one!”

Steve found his voice, although crackly and rough from disuse, just to say “Shut the fuck up.”

“He’s alive!” One of them shouted instead.

Steve peeled his eyes open and immediately groaned at the harsh lights. Blinking against the stark white hospital walls, he turned his head to look at the kids piled in the chairs of the room.

Max and Lucas were squished together in one chair, Mike and Will taking the second. Baby Byers must’ve already been let out. Dustin was sat cross-legged at the foot of Steve’s hospital bed, that El girl right next to him. Steve felt like he was in the middle of an interrogation with how she stared him down.

Steve sat up, ignoring every bodily protest telling him to lay the fuck back down. Dustin grinned wide at Steve, and Steve gave him a very weak smile in return.

“So are you actually alive, now? Cause you still look half-dead,” Max teased, smirking at him. Steve rolled his eyes and flipped her off, snorting when she gave it right back.

“Yay he’s alive wooo!” Mike snarked sarcastically.

Steve huffed, but Mike reminded him of Nancy which then reminded him of how he got dragged into this shit when then reminded him of—

“Fucking shit,” he swore under his breath.

“Are you ok? Do we need to called the nurse?” Will asked tentatively. All the kids suddenly looked on edge at Steve’s perceived pain.

He shook his head quickly and then immediately winced. It felt like his brain was jumping around his skull. “No, no I’m fine. Just— Wheeler where’s your sister?”

Mike stared at him funny. “Dude there is no way you’re thinking of my sister after climbing out of your deathbed.”

“What? Of fucking course I am! She was watching Louie and I never got chance to pick him up or ask her about him—“

“Whoah hey— who’s Louie?” Lucas spoke up.

“He’s—“

“Oh!” Dustin perked up. “Is he the baby my mom’s watching? Little chubby thing that looks like a cute little raisin? He’s got your hair, dude!”

Steve visibly relaxed back into his pillows. “Oh my God. Ok. Ok.” It was fine. Louie was fine. Everything was fine—

“Oh the kid Nancy’s been watching?” Mike perked up. “He’s real cute.”

“Is he your little brother?” Will asked.

Steve was steadying his breathing still, so he shook his head and smiled weakly. “No. No he’s, uh— my son.”

El tilted her head. “You are his Papa?”

Steve looked at her, really took her in; her curly hair, her worn and a little too big button up, her curious head tilt, her big eyes. He smiled at her. “Yeah, sure.”

She smiled back at him, small and shy.

“You have a kid?” Lucas asked.

“Aren’t you like— 15?” Dustin accused.

“He’s like 18.” Max corrected. “He and Billy are in the same grade.”

“17, actually.” Steve informed. “But I’ll be 18 in July.”

“Who’s the mom?” Mike asked.

“Nobody you need to know,” Steve shot back. Mike huffed.

“Why was he at Mike’s?” Will asked. The kid was quiet, much like his older brother. Baby Byers only spoke up after talking to Mike, as if needing reassurance. A massive pang of guilt ran though Steve, remembering all the shit he’d said to Jonathan last year.

Steve cleared his throat. “Nancy was watching him for me for a bit cause I had work.”

Dustin perked up, grinning mischievously. “Where do you work?”

“Yeah, no. You’re not coming by to harass me.”

“Booooo!” Max shouted.

“Party pooper!” Lucas joined, sticking his tongue out. El grinned and stuck her tongue out, too.

It was then that the nurse walked in with Hopper and Mrs. Byers.

Thank God. Because it was seriously starting to feel like an interrogation.

.

Hopper stole his car.

He stole Steve’s car and refused to let him drive it.

Steve was discharged later the same day he woke up. They gave him some medicine, some papers, and sent him on his way.

But he couldn’t leave because Hopper stole his car.

And then forced Steve to sit in the passenger seat of his stolen car.

Steve had never sat in the passenger seat of his own car.

“Stop huffing and puffing.” Hopper grumbled.

“I’m not huffing and puffing.” Steve (didn’t) huffed.

“Then quit sulking.”

“It’s my own car,I’ll sulk if I want to.”

“You get beat half to death and suddenly gain an attitude.”

Steve smirked out the window. “You and I both know I’ve always had an attitude.”

Hopper made a gruff sound that could’ve been a laugh, probably thinking of every time he’d had to break up one of Steve’s parties or drive him home cause he’d been wandering around drunk off his ass.

Steve perked up when they skipped the turn to go the trailer park.

“Uh, Hop? Where we goin?”

“Relax, brat. Your kid’s still with the Hendersons.”

Oh yeah. Maybe he was more out of it then he thought. Steve relaxed back into the seat a bit more than before.

“Still don’t see why I couldn’t just drive myself,” he muttered, just to be a shit.

Hopper groaned.

.

When Hop pulled into the Henderson’s driveway Steve wasted no time in getting out. Hopper yelled from somewhere behind him about waiting for the car to stop next time. Steve payed him no mind and ran up the porch stairs to hastily knock on the door.

Mrs. Henderson opened up soon enough, a smile on her face and a hand on her hip.

“Steve, dear, hi!”

Steve smiled shakily down at the short women, pleased to see her but desperate to see Louie.

“Hi, Mrs. H. Is Louie here?”

“Of course, sweetie! He’s with Dusty and his friends, come say hi!” She left back into the house without another word. Steve followed after with Hopper.

Just as Mrs. Henderson claimed, Little Louie was in the living room with The Party. There was a light yellow knitted blanket spread on the floor where they all sat together, except Max and Will, who sat on the couch.

Louie was sat in Mike’s lap, Lucas right in front of them letting Louie play with his fingers. Dustin sat right next to Mike, pressed into his side and cooing down at Louie with a wide grin.

The moment Louie caught sight of his dad he let go of Lucas’ fingers and reached for Steve, bringing the attention of the Brat Brigade onto him.

Steve bent to grab Louie from Mike, his focus solely on his son being back in his arms. Louie babbled happily, his chubby baby hands making grabs for Steve’s hair and tugging lightly. Steve ignored the ache in his head in favor of smiling wide at the babbling baby.

“Hi sweetie, how you doin’ baby?”

Louie’s response was a gummy smile and one of those weird baby gurgle-trills. Steve’s grin only widened.

“Yeah I bet you’re having fun with the brats, huh?”

“Hey!” Dustin scoffed on the floor, pulling Steve’s attention back to the room.

Mike and Lucas were silently pouting, seemingly at the loss of the baby. Dustin looked downright offended at being referred to as a brat. Will and Max were kind of staring at Steve, but he ignored them for the most part outside of shooting them a small smile.

“Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt your time with Louie?” Steve teased, chuckling at Lucas’ bottom lip sticking out. Mike made more of an effort to hide his pout but wasn’t very effective.

“Yeah, jerk. We were having a conversation.” Mike snapped, though there was no real venom in his tone.

Steve snorted, letting Louie pat at his face and ignoring the sting of the bruises. “I sincerely apologize for taking back my son from you heathens.”

“We’re not heathens!” Dustin protested.

“Yeah right! You kids would be the worst bad influences on my baby boy!”

Louie added his two-cents in the response of a squeal and particularly hard hit to the face, unfortunately right on a still healing cut on Steve’s cheekbone. Steve hissed under his breath.

“Alright—“ Mike suddenly appeared in front of Steve and took Louie. “—he’s ours again.”

Steve chuckled. He melted a little inside seeing Mike hold Louie so tenderly. He was so gentle with the baby, such a stark contrast to his usually loud and brash demeanor.

Dustin and Lucas were both up immediately to get the baby’s attention. Steve smiled as much as he could with the now slightly reopened cut, finally relaxing with seeing Louie.

“So when we’re you going to tell us you were a dad?” Max spoke up from the couch.

Steve glanced at her and placed a hand on his hip. “Who’s ‘we’? I met you like two days ago.”

Max rolled her eyes and brought her feet up to sit crisscross on the couch. “Well Billy hasn’t said anything about Louie so I assume you’re on the down low about being a dad.”

Not really, Steve thought. He just hasn’t brought Louie to school with him since Hargrove started. Mason and Gran had no problems helping out so that he could continue senior year without interruption.

But Steve didn’t tell the kids that, simply nodding and smiling.

.

Mrs. Henderson was reluctant to let Steve leave.

“I mean it, Steve. You have my number, you call me if you need anything at all.” She made him swear.

Dustin was even more reluctant, going as far as to cling to Steve’s sweater.

“You have to give us your address! Come on, man! We wanna see Little Louie!”

So Steve gave in and wrote down the address to the trailer, if only to get Dustin to stop whining. Mike grumbled about how they could’ve just asked Nancy.

Again, Hopper drove. Which absolutely irritated Steve but he wasn’t about to sit and argue with the Chief of police with his baby in the back seat.

But Hopper agreed that Steve could be back to driving himself in the next couple of days— which Steve immediately protested.

How was he meant to get to and from work if he couldn’t drive?

Apparently, Hopper took it upon himself to settle that.

“What do you mean I’m not going to work?”

Hopper grumbled and wiped a hand over his face. Steve might’ve thought he looked pissed, had he not known that’s just Hop’s face.

“I mean you’re mot going to work. I already called your boss, gave them a rundown— the government one with the wild dogs— and she said it’s fine.”

Steve threw his arms out. Was it dramatic? Yes. But Steve deserved to be dramatic after the time he’s had. “I need the money! I fucking live off of those tips, Hop!”

“I know that and I already talked about that, too. You’re still getting paid, don’t worry.” Steve tried to protest again but Hopper gave him this look that made his mouth snap shut. Steve shot his gaze to the floor and crossed his arms.

.

It was a weird 3 days of no work. Steve spent it at home in the trailer with baby Louie and— occasionally— Gran and the twins.

Eventually, it was time for him to go back.

Steve knocked on the Wheeler’s front door bright and early on Saturday, surprised when Mike opened the door instead of Nancy.

“Hey, Wheeler. Where your sister?”

“In the kitchen. Is that Louie?” Mike grabbed the car seat from Steve without waiting for an answer. Steve shrugged mentally and followed Mike into the living room with the diaper bag.

Color him surprised when he sees the rest of the kids sans El crowded around Little Louie, cooing and grinning while the baby thrives in the attention.

Steve smiled.

Yeah, alright. It was admittedly a very sweet sight.

Maybe everyone knowing about Louie isn’t too bad.

.

AGH I DID IT!! OMG ITS OUT

I’m so sorry this took so long LMAO

Fuck mental health, my PHYSICAL HEALTH has gone to absolute shit recently. And I’m also dividing my time between Stranger Things and ATLA atm and it’s taking 200% of my motivation lol

Next part should be longer in length and have more Steddie interactions. I’m finally making some progress 😭🙏

[ladykailitha]

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 1

When I reached 1000 followers I put up a poll for what people wanted me to do to celebrate and the top two options (separated by less than one percent) were between doing nothing and just continue to do my regularly scheduled posting and doing a fun little one shot. Which I told people to put their suggestion in the comments. The only one to actually do that was @artiststarme who requested a pining Eddie and an oblivious Steve. I got half of that LOL! I have an actively wooing Eddie and an oblivious Steve. So I hope you like it anyway.

There is no set posting schedule on this one. I will be putting it out when possible as it’s still a WIP.

Summary: After Vecna Max is having trouble convincing Lucas to date her again so she turns to the one member of the party who is dating a jock: Eddie Munson. He breaks down his tips for dating an oblivious jock. Bold = the guide. Italicized = their conversation. Standard = examples Eddie is giving Max for each step.

*

The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock

Foreword:

Eddie Munson had the best functioning gaydar in all of Hawkins. Perhaps even the surrounding areas. He hadn’t been wrong yet. Mainly because it only used it on actual teenagers and they weren’t as good as hiding it as they thought they were.

So far he had clocked Robin Buckley, Vickie Lawrence, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Tommy Hagen, and few others around their school. But his absolute favorite was Steve Harrington.

Now, some of them were bisexual instead of gay, but the radar worked all the same. Mike, Vickie, and Steve to be precise. Although he was pretty sure Hagen was feeding Harrington a line about it not being gay unless their dicks touch or whatever and passing off his crush on King Steve as just being bros or some shit.

He honestly felt sorry for Carol Perkins because she most certainly was straight and her boyfriend and his best friend were not.

Eddie thought about telling her, but then he remembered she was a bitch and just didn’t.

Now, King Steve was a bitch too. He wasn’t going to deny that. But that was what attracted Eddie to him the first place. His bitchy little remarks, his snide comments, his lip curling sneer.

He was pissed when Nancy tried to stomp it out while they were dating. He didn’t think she succeeded. At least not all the way if the little glances Steve gave him during his famous lunchroom rants were any indication.

And then the world came crashing down around Steve and Eddie got see a whole new side of Harrington that he hadn’t seen before. Steve would still sneer at Eddie’s rants, laugh at Eddie’s attempts to wound him, but there was something else.

He began flinching at loud noises. He went from the top of most of his classes to barely skating by. He started wearing sunglasses all the time. He would turn to his right side when people talked.

That’s when the start of Eddie’s crush happened. This deposed king, was quieter, rougher around the edges, but also the same time gentler, too.

Steve graduated and Eddie did not. It lessened their interactions a great deal, but when Eddie found that Steve was working at the mall in the most ridiculous outfit. It wasn’t even cute, but fuck did it do a number on Eddie’s libido. His attraction turned into full on lust.

And then they ended up saving the world together. And Steve full on saved his life. That’s when Eddie knew he was trouble. That’s when he fell in love with Steve. Head over heels.

That’s when he knew he was going to need a game plan to woo this bastard. This beautiful, sassy, completely oblivious bastard.

*

Step One: Determine if you are their flavor of partner.

There is nothing worse than assuming a guy might into dating you and then for him not be. Now, everyone Eddie had pegged as gay or bisexual had been correct, but there was always that chance. That first time he was wrong.

And considering that they had become friends after all that, Eddie had be sure.

“I’m just saying that Luke was prettier in the first one,” Eddie defended. He was harassing his favorite Family Video employee, Steve Harrington.

“Come on,” Steve argued back. “That’s not fair. The actor got into a really bad accident between the first and second one. But I would say he looked best in the third one with the teddy bears.”

“They’re called Ewoks,” Eddie moaned. “They aren’t teddy bears.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Besides everyone knows that Han Solo is the hottest guy in the Star Wars trilogy.”

Eddie slammed both hands on the counter making Robin and Steve both jump. “You take that back. This Lando Calrissian slander and I won’t have it!”

Steve laughed.

“Since when did you have an opinion on hot guys anyway?” Robin asked from the candy display in front of the counter, where she was restocking the Reese’s Pieces.

Steve frowned. “Since always?” Eddie and Robin both raised an eyebrow at him. “Me and Carol and Tommy would rate the guys in every movie we saw. Doesn’t everybody do that?”

Robin raised the other eyebrow. “No. I certainly don’t. But I’m gay, so guys just don’t do it for me.”

Steve turned to Eddie. “So what’s your excuse then?”

Eddie grinned. “Because I’m gay and guys do do it for me?”

Steve blinked. “But I like boobies, too. Unless there’s a thing for both?”

Eddie grinned. Gotcha! “Sure there is, beautiful. It’s called being bisexual. Freddie Mercury from Queen and David Bowie are both bisexual.”

Steve frowned. “Is that what Vickie is?” he asked Robin. “Does she like both, too?”

Robin blinked. “Oh. I mean, yeah. I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, I mean she could like both.”

Steve bumped her with his hip. “There you go. Now ask her out already!”

He laughed and ducked when she threw a packet of Reese’s Pieces at his head.

He bent to pick them up, but they were a little abused and a corner was torn. “Shit.”

Steve held it up so they could see.

Robin grimaced. “Oops!”

“I’ll buy it,” Eddie said. “That way you guys won’t get into trouble.”

Steve smiled wide. “You’d do that?”

“Sure thing, princess,” Eddie said returning the smile. He paid for it and then bid them goodbye.

As he walked out the door he heard Robin say, “I thought he hated Reese’s Pieces.”

Eddie laughed.

Max laughed. “That one’s easy. Being straight has its privileges. I know Lucas is straight, so I have that one in the bag.”

Eddie grinned. “It certainly makes it easier, that’s for sure.”

She laughed even harder.

“Now do you want to hear the rest of these or not?” Eddie growled.

Max waved her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Go on. I’m the one that asked for this.”

*

Step Two: Find Common Interests

On the surface, you couldn’t find two people more fundamentally opposed than Steve and Eddie. Rich, prep, jock, alt rock, pretty boy. Poor, metalhead, nerd, did I mention metalhead?

In the Venn diagram of life it should be two completely separate circles. But there were overlaps. Their taste in movies for a start. Steve Harrington loves horror movies.

“Hold up,” Max interrupted. “There is no way in hell that Steve can even stand horror movies. Have you met the guy?”

“I am dating him,” Eddie said with a laugh. “I would certainly hope so.”

“He really likes horror movies?” she asked incredulously.

“He thinks they’re great date movies,” Eddie said with a grin. “It’s great for cuddling.”

“Ew, gross!” Max said with a sneer.

“Don’t knock until you try it kid.”

*

They were all at Steve’s for movie night and they were having a hard time choosing a film that they could all agree on.

“We aren’t watching Gremlins!” Robin protested. “They’re too creepy.”

Jonathan threw his arms in the air. “That’s the point. They’re supposed to be creepy.”

Nancy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like it either. I don’t think I saw more than five minutes of it when Steve took me.”

Steve laughed. “That was rather the point of taking you.”

You could almost hear the record scratch the universe made when every head in that room turned to Steve.

Steve smirked. “What? The point of taking any date to a horror film is to get cuddles when it scares them.”

“Ooh...” Jonathan said. “That makes sense. I never pegged you for a horror guy, but you were always on top of when they came out in theaters.”

“Hey,” Steve said, “I do enjoy them for their own merit. And I always pre-screen them so I know it won’t be too gory or too scary. Because giving the date nightmares is the last thing I want.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth. “You like horror movies? You’ll pardon my skepticism, but like what?”

Steve hummed for a moment and then scratched his cheek. He snapped his fingers. “Damn it, I’m really bad at movie names. Just give me a minute.”

He ran up to his room and brought down about four or five VHS tapes.

“Let’s see,” he said absently. “Evil Dead, Nightmare on Elm Street...The Dead Zone. That one is really good. Went right out and read the book after that one. And Poltergeist.”

Eddie made grabby hands for the tapes and Steve handed them over. Eddie looked them over.

“Got some pretty good taste here, Harrington,” he said after a moment. “But why aren’t they down here with the rest of the tapes?”

Steve blushed. “My mom said I had to keep them in my room so her friends didn’t think she liked that trash.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “I don’t like horror either, but to call it trash is a bit harsh.”

Steve shrugged. “Not all horror is created equal. Like the one about the dog in the Antarctic killing people? No thanks.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “You’ve seen The Thing?”

“Is that what it’s called?” Eddie nodded. “Yeah. It was too gross even for me.”

Eddie licked his lips. “Did you know it was a remake from the 1951 classic, The Thing from Another Planet?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Really? Maybe I’ll like that one better.”

Eddie grinned. “My Uncle Wayne owns it. Why don’t you come over on your next day off, and we can watch together without these heathens.”

Steve laughed as Nancy and Robin squawked indignantly. Jonathan just shook his head.

“Sound like you’ve got a deal, Munson,” he said with a grin.

They ended up watching Pretty in Pink again, because Nancy and Robin strong-armed the boys into agreeing.

“And he still didn’t get you were flirting with him?” Max asked.

“Nope!” Eddie cackled. “But remember we are dealing with oblivious jockus. They aren’t known for picking up on subtle clues.”

Max laughed. “Fair Enough. What’s next?”

My permanent tag list (curated with those that have requested to be on said list and those that have interacted with each of my stories (reblogging and/or commenting on every part): @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @artiststarme

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If I missed anyone let me know and if you want to be put on the tag list for this specific story let me know that as well. Just remember FOR MY TAG LISTS THE HARD AND FAST LIMIT IS 50. I CAN’T DO MORE THAN THAT!

[verstppism]

Boy's Talk (About You) - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - take me anywhere but home

word count: 1957

masterpost.

synopsis everyone has their secrets, a group chat formed by charles leclerc, pierre gasly, alex albon, lando norris and george russell knows all of them. the 'kill the grid' chat has only one purpose: gossiping about other drivers' lives, romantic and social

or, a casual chat leads to charles confessing a crush on max, who's has been his rival since childhood

If Charles was still half asleep, the iMessage notifications coming from Max definitely woke him up. All the nervousness and anxiety from last night made sense: Max was leaving Brazil and his girlfriend to spend New Years in Monaco. But what were his intentions behind such a sudden decision? If Max really broke up with her, then he wouldn’t be texting the older one on a cold December morning. Or would he? Max Verstappen was a confusing person. One night, he says he’s not happy with his girlfriend, the other he goes on a private padel match with his ex-rival. Things seem to go well between them.

It’s when he posts a photo with his girlfriend after the race that tears everything apart. Still in his racing suit. Messy hair. Still sweating. Everything that belonged to Charles and to him only. In fact, Max was his. Who does she think she is? Charles only thought about how he could talk so casually about Kelly right before calling him “Charlie” and pushing him as far away from Lance as possible in the sprint podium. It was driving him insane — More than he already is. After eternal minutes discussing his own love life and its frustrations, Charles notices he left Max on read, he had accidentally opened the app and his conversation with the other one.

“charlie: good morningg “

“charlie: i am! are u okay? “

Charles was really at a loss at words, so he decided to pretend that he didn’t know where Max was nor that he was a few meters from the blonde’s house.

“maxiee: yeah “

“maxiee: just had a little change of plans and came back to monaco “

“charlie: oh really? “

“charlie: did anything happen or? “

“maxiee: can we talk about this in person? “

“maxiee: we can go to that café you mentioned in the padel match “

He… Remember. Their meeting (date?) was months ago, and he remembers it. Something he slightly mentioned once in a lifetime, and he recalls it in perfect detail. Charles wonders if Max remembers everything that pondered his mind. He asks himself if he recalls their discussions back in their karting days, or when they slowly started to use pet names for the first time. In the end, did Max realize that they were made for each other, even though they were predestined to fight for a whole life?

“charlie: of course! what time? “

“maxiee: im just getting ready, i’ll be there in a couple minutes “

“maxiee: nothing is too far here “

Charles giggles at the last message, like he always did when he exchanged messages with his beloved. After all, it was more of a date orchestrated by Max — he is good at setting up dates so subtly. Or maybe Charles just accepts every invite from the other. — and again, alone together. A more casual reunion this time: without any sport or anyone that could get in their way. It seemed like a dream, Charles hoped it wasn’t.

He didn’t even mind telling his friends of such an important event, just got up from his bed and quickly got ready. Casual clothing and sunglasses to go unnoticed. It wasn’t easy to go on a date in broad daylight in a city as small as Monte Carlo.

—————

It really didn't take long for them to meet. That little cafeteria was one of the secret gems of Monaco, hidden between beautiful historic buildings. As Charles arrived, he already could see Max, stirring coffee and sugar on the delicate little cup. He was looking down, his face with little to no emotion, more like hesitant of… something. 

The doorbell ring filled the quiet place when the older entered the place getting the other's attention, which gave a soft and kinda sad smile to him. A smile that wasn't common as the post race ones or those shared in press conferences. ‘This is not the moment to overthink your relationship with him.’ Charles thought. 

“I’m not late this time. '' Leclerc broke the awkward silence between them as he sat down. “Yeah… I mean, you live around here, no?” Max sounded somewhat different. Nervous? Sad? Reading his feelings through his face wasn’t Charles’ best ability. “So remember when I told you I would spend New Years in Brazil?” 

“Of course! I was also about to ask you about it. Why did you come back home?” He said as he sat down. Home. Not the best wording at the moment, given that he’s actually Dutch and we are somewhere around near South France. It’s what they say: ‘home is where the heart is’. “Like… Did anything happen?”

“Yeah, uh…”  Apprehensive. A worried tone filled his voice. “Me and Kelly had a little fight right after Christmas and I thought it would be better for us to part ways. She wasn’t very willing to but… Can I be honest? I was growing tired of being stuck with her.”

Stuck with her. Stuck. Max was tired. Max doesn't like her. At All. Charles felt like his chest was collapsing in the best way possible. How was he supposed to act normally and feel pity for them when butterflies filled his stomach?

“And you know, I only kept the relationship up because of her daughter…” Verstappen smiled while looking at the cup. The older’s intrusive thoughts were telling to adopt a child with that man. He was such a good dad after all! “And PR too. I think our love wasn't reciprocal… I was there for the kid and she was for the status of being a Formula One driver's girlfriend.” 

“Oh Max… That's too bad. I’m so sorry for you” A pitiful look surged on Charles’ face, trying to show empathy and not that he was going insane over all of this. “I’m sure you and her will be able to meet again.” A shy smile appeared on the younger’s face when ocean and emerald eyes met. A comfortable silence surrounded them, only the ambient sound and smell of fresh coffee filled the empty café.

“Now that we are on the topic, it may sound rude but I need to get this off my chest. I doubt you two would still be together if you didn't win in 2021.” Still apprehensive, Charles felt safe to talk shit about Max’s ex-girlfriend. When he saw the other’s eyes glitter at the comment, he was sure: the blonde has been waiting forever to do this. “You doubt? I'm 100% sure! After we left RedBull’s party she started talking about marriage, mate. Can you believe that!?” 

Minutes that felt like hours passed by. Charles and Max talked about many secrets they've kept for each other for the mere thought of “this is not something you usually tell your best friend, especially when he’s dating a person you don’t really like”. In fact, they would never get to these specific topics – mostly about relationships. Maybe both were scared of oversharing and confessing their true love, ruining it all for once. The older didn't know if delusional thoughts took over, but he felt things were getting intimate, at some point, their feet touched and so their legs proceeded to slightly intertwine. 

They didn’t even bother to order food or anything. — and so the waiters did not ask them to. Perhaps it was an obvious date to whoever passed by. When leaving, Max only paid for this coffee cup that was now cold, half drunken and long forgotten on the table. Both got so deep in conversation they forgot the world keeps spinning, and the day goes by, like they always do. Like it always happens. If you didn’t know, you would guess that they were long-distance boyfriends meeting for the first time.

It was almost dusk when they left the café. The orange-ish colors in the sky implied the sun was setting, and so Max and Charles decided to walk home. Staying side by side on a very narrow sidewalk made their shoulders brush at all times.  

As they got closer to Leclerc’s house, he noticed that Max started to tense up. Was he scared of something? Scared of leaving Charles? That reaction started to worry him but as soon as they got to the older’s doorstep he spoke up, point blank:

“I… Charlie, the true meaning behind this all-of-a-sudden meeting is that… You are the love of my life. I’m sorry for not noticing it earlier.” Max stuttered, a subtle way to let the other know it was hidden and buried deep inside with fear for years and years. Maybe even his whole life. It drove Charles insane. It’s like he was feeling every single emotion at the same time. He swore he was dying or something. The older man fought every desire to kiss him right here in the middle of an empty sideroad right in front of his house, but he knew it would appear in every headline in worldwide newspapers. “Charles ‘il predestinato’ Leclerc is found kissing Life-long rival Max Verstappen”. That is not the best way to be in the news, probably something that would end their careers or worse: their friendship. With no words left to say, Charles just hugged him tight as if he would disappear at any time. “Je t'aime moi aussi, mon amour” He said as one or two teardrops slid across his cheek.

Feeling something wet hit his shoulder, Max broke the hug but still kept their bodies suspiciously close. He held the other’s face with both big hands as their eyes met once again, but now with much more compassion. After all they’ve gone through, all their ups and downs brought them to this moment. What they’ve been waiting for. 

“Wait wait wait.” Charles popped the little bubble they builded to protect themselves from the rest of the world. “Can we get inside first? I mean, it’s very romantic to kiss in the middle of the crosswalk I know but we’re kinda famous so yeah…” Max chuckled at the comment. “Of course we can, schatje”

He unlocked the door and let Verstappen enter as if nothing almost happened a few seconds ago. “Uh… So are-” He’s interrupted by the softest of lips crashing into his own, almost cornering him into a wall like a (ironically) raging bull. For the very first seconds they are both surprised by the feeling but locked in very quickly. This kiss felt like heaven, the way both mouths swayed together felt like they were pieces to a puzzle, just waiting for it to be finally found and placed together. It was definitely not what Charles thought it would be like but it was good nonetheless. 

They only broke the kiss when there was no oxygen left in their bodies still, they stayed close, panting and hanging on by a thread of spit. Leclerc hid his face on his lover’s shoulder and started giggling, ending up with a lowkey confused Max.

“Why are you laughing?” He said, with a broad smile on his face. Charles’ laugh was contagious.

“This is so stupid. Why did we take so long to do this?” 

It all came down to them snuggling together in Charles’ bed. The moonlight that invaded the room through a slightly opened window shines in their features, giving both an godly look. After a whole day spent with Max, Leclerc seemed to forget about his friends, who might’ve gone insane by his disappearance. So he was right: when checking his phone he’s welcomed with 86 missed calls, – all coming from 4 different people – and at least 300 messages coming from his group chat, Kill the Grid. Charles opens it, doesn’t read any of the past messages and starts typing.

“charlie: guys, youll never know what just happened '' Send it.

taglist: @mrsbrxkkxr , @nyxstice , @thedecalcomania-blog ,@sebastianize <3

[chronically-ghosted]

the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour. 

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round. 

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known. 

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity. 

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it. 

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying. 

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth. 

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.” 

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?” 

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.” 

Trish smacked him over the back of the head. 

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks. 

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious. 

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely. 

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled. 

“To Ned!” 

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?” 

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick. 

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?” 

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat. 

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo. 

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap. 

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour. 

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening. 

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you. 

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement. 

At least, the only person you can see. 

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing. 

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked. 

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all. 

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze. 

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here! 

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap. 

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.” 

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint. 

Caravaggio, eat your heart out. 

“Max, what the fuck was that?” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall. 

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple. 

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth. 

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.” 

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise. 

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder. 

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you. 

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier. 

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth. 

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt. 

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose. 

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?” 

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.” 

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,” 

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits. 

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around. 

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down. 

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat. 

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt. 

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .” 

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you. 

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation. 

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.” 

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear. 

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this. 

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily. 

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,” 

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you. 

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning. 

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.” 

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs. 

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.” 

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours. 

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office. 

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be. 

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable. 

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin. 

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that. 

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks. 

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.” 

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.” 

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.” 

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours. 

It is dangerous, your feelings for him. 

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes. 

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door. 

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water. 

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches. 

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords. 

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term. 

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world. 

[mixsethaddams]

Throwing my hat into the latest trend of Shovel Talk posts. tw reference to past child abuse (not detailed)

Eddie gets the shovel talk from no less than five people.

Dustin, Robin, Erica, Max and Lucas. (Those two came as a pair, as they so often did since the Vecnapocolypse) Actually, technically six, if you count the fact that Dustin kept saying And Will Said...

They all say in and around the same thing. Steve deserves the world, he's been the babysitter for longer than Eddie's been the DM, blah blah blah. Honestly, Eddie's getting a little tired of people assuming he'll hurt Steve and leave him heartbroken. By the time he closed the door after saying goodbye on the final He Means More To Us Than You Do conversation, he was left in no doubt that the kids expected him to fuck up royally and they would not hesitate to choose Steve when (not if, as far as they were concerned) it happened. They would never forgive him. It was good to know where he stood, he guessed.

What Eddie didn't know, was that Steve was getting a few shovel talks of his own.

Wayne was first, obviously. Steve wasn't surprised to be pulled aside at the Byers/Hopper barbecue to listen to some very unsubtle threats about what might happen to him if Eddie came home with so much as a pout Even One Time, Boy, You Hear Me?

More surprising, was Joyce.

Joyce came by one night under the pretence of bringing by some leftover lasagne. Steve offered her a tea and they sat in the kitchen together while she asked polite questions about how things with Eddie were going. When Steve was done telling her all about the constant butterflies in his stomach, she clasped his hand gently across the table.

"I'm happy for you sweetie, I am,"

"Thanks Joy–"

"But you need to understand that Eddie is a fragile boy, and he needs real love, Steve. He's not the type to be happy with a, what do you call it, a fling? He's not the type for that,"

Steve was taken aback.

"This isn't a fling, Joyce,"

"Can you promise me that? I remember him from when he was just a kid and, god, well, I'd hate to see him hurt,"

Steve's mouth was open and closing like a fish, totally at a loss for words.

"Steve, can you promise me that? I know you're grown now and things are different, but I need you to say it for me,"

"I promise, I... I'm not who I used to be,"

Joyce patted his hand.

"Good boy. I better get home,"

And then there was Hopper.

Hopper knocked on the front door of the Harrington house early one Saturday morning, three sharp thuds on the door that made you think, Yup, Cops Are Here.

Steve answered still half asleep, barely aware he'd even pulled on a pair of sweatpants.

Hopper didn't accept the invite to come inside. He noticed Eddie's boots by the door.

"He here?"

"Uh, yeah, has been since yesterday, why? Did someone say he done something?"

"No, he's not who I'm here for,"

"What? I haven't done anything?"

"Good, and I expect you to keep it that way,"

Steve didn't know how to react. His eyes were still adjusting to the daylight and his brain hasn't quite woken up yet.

"Hop, I don't know what you're talking about,"

"El told me that you all know about the night he went to live with his uncle, says he told everyone the basics when Jon was worrying about turning out like Lonnie,"

"Yeah, he told me some more about it after too,"

"Figured he might,"

Steve shuffled from one foot to the other.

"I still don't know why you're here..."

"I was the one who carried him out of that house that night, Steve,"

"Oh,"

Oh indeed. Hopper's voice was gruff and low. Steve was actually nervous.

"I listened to him cry for hours. He couldn't breathe it was so bad. I never wanted to hear another child even speak after having to sit in the room while he told Wayne what went down,"

"I–"

"And I don't think I'll ever be able to sit right with the idea of that kid being sad again, because of someone else messing with him. I never forgot what he sounded like when he cried. Don't make me have to see him cry again, Steve. Do you understand me?"

Steve was stunned. All he could do was nod dumbly. There was no point offering any sort of defence, Hopper obviously wasn't here to listen. He was here to tell. Of all the people Steve might have thought would be on Team Munson, the former chief of police wasn't exactly top of the list. Eddie's distinct lack of criminal record through his teens might have been some indicator though.

Hopper gave Steve a curt nod and turned back down the driveway without another word.

He closed the door and leaned against the wood, letting out a low breath. Eddie appeared at the top of the stairs, rubbing his eyes.

"Baby? Who was that?"

"Uh, Hopper..."

Eddie huffed a sleepy laugh.

"Hmm, shit, Law Man swing by to make sure I was behaving myself?"

Steve went to Eddie and pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling into his hair. He really had no clue, did he?

"He was just checking in,"

Eddie hummed and went towards the kitchen to switch the coffee pot on. He had told Steve about the shovel talks he got from the kids earlier in the week. Trivial threats about leaving Hellfire and never helping him write a song again or going to one of his shows, taking back his Walkie privileges, things that seemed like the end of the world to a group of minors. Eddie had wistfully mentioned that Steve would never have to worry about being on the receiving end of something like that, he didn't think anyone really cared enough. Maybe You'll Get A Weird Look From Wayne, But I Think You're In The Clear, Golden Boy.

Eddie had no idea about the people that were looking out for him without him realising it. It made Steve's heart hurt. He'd half expected Robin and the others to have words with Eddie. It was almost a joke, he hadn't thought twice about it because he just kind of knew it would happen. He knew they cared, and he couldn't imagine how it would feel to be so sure that they didn't. That no one did.

Steve made a promise to himself then and there to never let Eddie feel like no one cared enough ever again, giving himself his very own version of the Don't Hurt Eddie Munson shovel talk.

It was the least Eddie deserved.

(Also posted to my ao3)

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 7 * mv1

the news is out: three time world champion, max verstappen, and his girlfriend of 6 years have been broken up since the singapore weekend.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: -

notes: wow i took thE longest break from this

(series masterlist)

(prev) // (next)

max isn’t typically the type to let panic settle in. at least, that’s what he likes to think. he likes to tell people he’s not bothered but outsiders are always quick to catch up with his suppressed emotions. 

alas, his worst fears have come true. news has broken that you’ve been broken up for almost 2 months. 

he has not been able to talk about it with daniel, so he can only imagine how things will break down in austin. 

he hopes that it’s not actually that big of a deal. plenty of other drivers have gotten themselves in messier breakups — the post doesn’t seem to touch on any speculations about how yours had come about. he can only bank on the hope that journalists are empathetic enough not to bring you up. 

but you’ve been very involved in his career and the cameras on the paddocks. they never missed the chance to have you speak into a mic or have a private conversation with you. 

pictures snapped of you together are never posted, but would be directly sent to either of you to truly encompass the privacy of your relationship. the respect shared between you and everyone on the paddocks was treasured, which is probably why your presence had been notable after you abruptly disappeared. 

he sinks into his couch, phone in hand as he stares at the pictures that sparked up speculations. it’s a low-quality picture of you leaving the red bull home, head down as your hair shied you away from the camera. the second picture is of him coming out of the building, hair dishevelled as he stood with his arms folded over his chest.

“what do i do?” max mumbles, his finger swiping over the screen again and again, staring at the two pictures. as if it would change the course of things if he did it enough. “do i talk to her?”

“i don’t know, man,” daniel sighs, his face in the far corner of max’s screen. “i mean, the best you can do is to wait it out, right?”

“rumours could spread,” charles mutters, looking away briefly with his eyes widened. “if i were you, i’d want to do some damage control. but that’s probably just me.”

max sits back, staring at the empty half of his hotel bed. your absence is always noted when he’s all alone and he's too awake for his own good, once having the luxury of your company and bright smile making him feel giddy.

the difference between this breakup and all of charles' is that there is no controversy in this one. as far as he's concerned, this is all speculation from photos that are now circulating the internet and your obvious absence on race weekends.

nobody can even really confirm if it's true unless you or max say something. for now, they're just rumours. right?

unless you've started speaking to people, and gossip platforms. but you wouldn't do any of that, or at least that's what he's telling himself. but from what he can dig out of the grave in his brain, there was nothing that happened between you that can be twisted.

but what does he know?

he can only keep praying to the fact that you'll keep it as private as you usually do.

his phone is buzzing endlessly, his other friends sending him texts as the news shocks them as much as the world. lando is asking him if he's holding up fine, martin is expressing how he feels for max, and his own mother asking him why he hadn't told her earlier.

only victoria's message will be getting an answer. after all, she's the first person that found out.

"should i talk to her?" max thinks out loud, maximising the facetime call to get a good look at his friends' reactions. "she never does well with things like this, what if people are bothering her?"

charles' picture is overtaken by alexandra's face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "you wanna talk to her?"

max shrugs. "i don't know. maybe?"

"would that be the best choice though?" daniel tilts his head. behind him, heidi is approaching cautiously with a small smile. "babe, what do you think?"

heidi shrugs as daniel's camera slowly turns to her. "my opinion is probably not - it's been two months. and judging by the comments that i read, i don't think there's much disrespect that has to be told off publicly."

alexandra nods as charles slowly comes back into the frame next to her. "it's up to you, max. as of right now, it doesn't seem that serious."

max sighs again, this time louder as he feels everything coming down on him. he drops his head back and stares at the ceiling. "i don't know, you guys," he sighs again loudly. "i just want to know if she's alright."

"maybe not now, mate," charles answers sympathetically, frowning at him through the camera.

"just wait it out. it could die down quicker than you think," daniel says hopefully.

max nods, now suddenly feeling disinterest in their conversation. he only craves to be by himself now. "alright, i'll catch you guys in a bit," his eyes turn to the cats sleeping peacefully on the cat tree, "i've got to feed the cats."

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold @princessria127 @ironmaiden1313 @dl-yum @crlsummer @brekkers-whore @minkyungseokie @honethatty12 @barelytolerabled @vellicora @lokigoeschoki @avg-golden-retriever

[morganbritton132]

I really love the EMTTS and every update is making my day, so thank you for being great!

I keep thinking about the shared calendar posts and have wanted to ask about it since the first post so long ago. I know it's been mentioned how annoying it is for Steve when it's not used in the way he hoped, but has there ever been a situation where it was really genuinely bad? Like, a lot of drama could've been avoided if it had been used properly? And did the kids and Eddie then feel bad about misusing it/start using it the way Steve intended? I know it drives me crazy when people intentionally ignore/misuse stuff like that that I set up. What's Steve's reaction? AHHH, so many questions!

Don't worry about answering, just do it whenever you have time and feel motivated :) Hope you have a lovely day/night!

It’s not that people don’t use the shared calendar. It’s just that they don’t use it in the way that Steve wants them to.

Like, for example, Lucas has no problem putting his work schedule into the calendar at the beginning of the month, but he never remembers to put when he picks up shifts. Robin will input her class schedule at the beginning of a semester but not her ever-changing office hours. Dustin uses the calendar frequently but he is always vague about what he’s doing (i.e. he puts ‘Moon’ instead of stargazing) and Mike blocks out time slows when he busy but never says what he’s doing.

Steve wants to know where everybody is at all times and what they’re doing. Is that a little unrealistic? Yes, and Steve can acknowledge that. But it’s still frustrating when he misses something because it was mentioned to him once and he forgot.

But also, Steve can’t drive.

He is very reliant on his friends and family. Especially because up to a couple years ago, Eddie still traveled quite a lot. Steve’s gotten better over the years at acknowledging that he needs help and asking for it, but it is a lot harder to inconvenience someone.

Steve doesn’t like Uber or any of the ride-sharing apps. It feels unsafe because he knows that there are moments where he loses time and he’s not quite in his head. There are times when he gets stuck in the fog or lost in a bad memory, and he knows that he can be reactionary. His friends know how to walk him out of that and he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt a stranger or get hurt, or get lost.

Steve carpools to school, but there have been times where that’s fallen through and he ends up feeling like he’s bothering someone because he didn’t know that they had plans already. Eddie was out of town once and Steve had a doctor’s appointment, but everybody he texted was busy so he just canceled it. He ran out of his migraine medication but turns out half their friends were at a concert so he dealt with the fallout alone.

It all kind of comes to a head one evening.

Steve is the person that plans most of their game nights and their get-togethers. They’re typically hosted at his and Eddie’s house and Steve puts a lot of effort into planning them. There’s a Saturday that no one has marked with anything, so he gets up that morning and plans a game night. He bakes and he cooks. He cleans the whole house and gets out their board games. He even sets the table for D&D even though he hardly ever plays with them.

Then Eddie tells him that he has a plane to catch. They talked about it the other day. Don’t you remember? And Dustin’s busy. He has a date. He literally told Steve about it. Mike and Will have had these plans for weeks and Max and El are at a spa. Lucas is visiting Erica in DC. He said he was going to last week, remember?

Robin is swamped with work and Nancy’s not even in town and apparently hasn’t been all week. She sent that text in the groupchat about it, remember?

And it’s frustrating.

Steve knows that it’s kinda dumb to plan a party and expect people to show up on the same day, but that’s how it���s always been, and it’s – it feels like he’s being called stupid when everybody keeps asking him if he remembers. He obviously didn’t.

All it takes is for Eddie to ask him what’s wrong for Steve to snap. He’s frustrated and he’s annoyed, and he’s a little mean about it because Eddie is the worst about using the calendar. He just says things and expects that Steve is going to remember them, and it feels like they’re making fun of him. It feels like he’s standing outside the room that they’re all in and they’re laughing at him because he doesn’t know how to get inside.

“And it’s going to get worse,” Steve says, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I’m just going to keep forgetting and everybody is going to move on, and it’s going to be like I’m not even a part of it anymore.”

“Baby, that’s never going to happen. I – We won’t let that happen. It’s just one mess up.”

“It’s already happening! You already do it.”

Eddie ends up missing his flight because he’s not going to leave Steve when he’s upset like this. He’s supposed to be working on the backing tracks for an album he’s producing, but there’s tomorrow or maybe the day after that. He does end up sending out a text to the other party members, letting them know that they’ve got to make an effort to use the calendar more. 

[adventuringblind]

Hi I saw your requests are open you don’t have to write anything if you don’t want to but I had this idea and I wanted to share

I was thinking of meting Charles on Monaco maybe during Sumer break or something, and being a little homesick so he decides to take us to a bookstore (sorry I just like to rad a lot you can change the place) and just talking about like a book he likes and just sitting on the floor with him looking for something to read and getting romantic

Idk if it makes sense but thank you and have a nice day/night

Home is Where You Are

Charles leclerc x reader

Genre: fluff

Request: Yes! I hope you enjoy it, I thought the idea was super cute! I'm open for Max, Charles, Lando, Oscar, George, and Daniel. Also, up for poly fics if anyone is interested. (If you have too much love to go around, clap your hands)

Summary: living with Charles is a dream come true. Longing for home, though, can strike anyone. Good thing he's there to help you through it until you can find time to go visit.

Warnings: home sickness, straight fluff

Notes: written in second person. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

You and Charles had been together for a while now. Managing to do some long distance when you couldn't travel with him.

Now you were engaged, and you said yes. Knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

You traveled more now. Finding yourself in different countries for the majority of the year. But you always went back home when you could. The family and familiarity bringing you comfort.

When Charles asked you to move in with him, you'd been happy. The two of you now completely together. Ready to share your lives with each other.

You were lucky you could take your job anywhere. The traveling often helping provide inspiration for your novel.

Charles made sure you felt comfortable in his, now yours as well, apartment. Making sure you had your favorite foods. He purchased an entire bookshelf just for you. He even stockpiled the apartment with soft blanket.

It was a dream come true for you.

You loved it. Waking up with Charles. Eating breakfast with him. Not having to FaceTime him to say goodnight for half the year.

When the summer break for formula 1 came around, you found yourself wanting to go back to your home country. You'd been back in Monaco for less than a week, but the days had you missing things you didn't realize you would.

You liked it in Monaco. It's your home now. But it didn't stop your mind from wandering back to the streets you grew up on. To your friends and family. The shops you frequented.

That's how Charles found you. Sitting at the table, staring into your cup of tea. Lost in the world of your subconscious.

"Mon Amour? Are you alright?"

His voice dragged out out of your thoughts. Your eyes dragging themselves to his face as he found a spot next to you.

He knew something was wrong. There was really no point in trying to lie when it was written all over your body.

You run your finger around the rim of your glass. Taking comfort in Charles nimble fingers running up and down your arm.

"Just a bit homesick, I guess." You confessed. Sighing at your relentless thoughts. Pulling your heart deeper into its sad state.

Charles hums in response. Considering what you'd said to him. "I think I know how to cheer you up." He smirks.

Charles couldn't take you back to your home country currently. You'd been working ridiculously hard, and he'd been busy doing sim work. He'd get you there soon, but for now, he'd settle for trying to get your mind off things.

An hour later, you were dressed and walking down the streets of Monaco. Nonclue where Charles was taking you. Just giggling as he held your hand and pulled you along with him. The two of you are making conversation about anything that pops into your heads.

Charles was basking in the warmth of your smile. So much so that he almost missed his intended destination. A little corner store with a vintage looking sign reading 'Nook's Books'.

"Here we are." He smiled and opened the door for you. A little bell rang to alert the owner that someone had entered.

Charles watched as your mouth opened in awe. Taking in the shelves lined top to bottom with books new and old. "I thought you might like it."

"Why did I never know about this?"

"It's hidden away, so those who don't know the city will have a harder time finding it. It's our own little corner of peace." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was going to surprise you right before the wedding."

It didn't take long for you to grab Charles' hand and lead him down the rows of books.

You'd found many books that you liked and had picked a spot on the floor to look through them.

Charles couldn't help but admire you. On the floor surrounded by books. You looked adorable in his eyes.

He plopped down next to you and spread out his arms and legs. Inviting you without words to come rest your body against his. You happy oblige. Crawling into the safety of his arms.

You spent hours in the small store. Charles listening intently as you either talked about a book or read chapters from one.

The twobof you finally left when the store was about to close. Having spent so much time there that it was now dark outside. The streets illuminated with the orangey hue of lampposts.

Charles spun you around as you walked, Making you giggle. Completely unbothered by the nightlife of Monaco.

When you two made it to the outside of the apartment building, Charles pulled you into him.

"I know I can't get you back to your family right now, but are you feeling a bit better?"

"Yes, thank you, for everything." Your eyes met his soft gaze.

"No thanks needed. I was simply doing my job." He chuckled. Leaning in closer to you.

Finally, his lips landed on yours. A loving kiss shared between you two. But this time, when he kissed you, you knew Charles was your home.

[theghostbunnie]

Guys do you remember when I made a whole post about how David's care for the camp over the seasons went from being about the legacy to attachment to the actual campers themselves instead do you remember that guys

⚠️Spoilers for new episode ahead ⚠️

All of the campers are assholes in varying ways they ALL rag oh each other I've been saying this for forever but they all still have a baseline of being friends and this is showcased well in the butterfinger effect by Max specifically he refers to all of them as his friends. Yes not all of the campers are BEST friends, obviously, some of them even having a distinct annoyance with each other (Max and Ered specifically) but they all still have a FONDNESS for each other regardless

Neil and Nikki have been bullied before, as brought up in the episode the flower scouts are introduced and the one Jeremy is introduced. They have a history of not only being outcasts and not included (like 90% of the campers there) but being OUTRIGHT DISLIKED. This is why in foreign exchange campers they both have a PANIC over the thought Max is replacing them bc he's most likely their very first friend!!!

I don't believe Max has been bullied before as he just distances himself from people. He creates walls. He's experienced loneliness more. (To protect himself bc he "finally had something to lose" in the camp corp episode he calls them temporary to their faces and Neil blinks away a tear. He obviously was emotionally attached to them but didn't want to admit it or get emotional and instead denied it so it would hurt less for himself not caring in the moment if it hurt them)

and that is really reiterated this whole episode. While Nikki and Neil are the ones panicking way more over being hated in the first half (Max even telling them at one point they shouldn't care) Max is the one upset more in the SECOND half at the thought of not seeing them again.

The "I'm not sad I'm livid" IS SO MAX SO MANY PPL MISCHARACTERIZE HIM AS A CRYBABYYY NOOOO HE'S PISSSEDDD, HIS FIRST RESPONSE TO THINGS HE CAN'T EMOTIONALLY HANDLE WELL IS TO BE MADDDD OR RUDE OR IN DENIAL okay sorry back on track

This episode and the camp corp episode really really reiterate it is not camp campbell itself that makes the place great. It's the people. The people are the heart of it. Things got better when they brought themselves together. To help David with the bonfire because Max cared about David's emotional wellbeing not hitting the ground floor. To help raise money to save the camp from shutting down. To give up spending the rest of the summer doing their individual hobbies they got SCAMMED OUT OF and instead spend time WITH EACH OTHER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Neil saying goodbye to David and basically saying for a science camp that basically didn't have any fucking science it sure was great.

Gwen saying THANKS FOR NOTHING CAMP CAMPBELL 🖕 and then immediately after saying "and thank you for everything, David"

CAMP CAMPBELL ISN'T ABOUT THE CAMP IT'S ABOUT THE PEOPLE IN IT

Why else would Max still be okay if the place physically burnt down? BC He'd be HAPPY TO DO IT WITH HIS FRIENDS. HE LOVES MAKING PLANS AND AND SCHEMES AND CAUSING CHAOS, WHAT HE LOVED FROM THE VERY FIRST SEASON NEVER CHANGED. HE JUST FIGURED OUT HOW TO LET HIMSELF BE OPEN TO CARING ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE NOT NATURE OR A HOBBY.

He's mad he finally let himself care, that he let that wall down in the camp corp episode, that he grew attached to Nikki and Neil and even admitted it to them later and now it was all being "taken away from him." For a moment he thinks it would've been better to have never known happiness and friendship at all then to have known it and lost it. """You'll maybe be happy again at some point, kid ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯""" that's what he thinks he's being told and of course he's mad as hell over it until David and him have a heart to heart.

Max didn't want to leave, Max learned to love being at camp, BECAUSE OF THE FRIENDS THERE!

[imawkwardlysoc]

you wonder how he got his call sign

Song: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Paring: mickey garcia x reader (afab)

Warning(s): None, just pure fluff!

Word Count: 2,767

Summary: A little story on how Mickey got his call sign.

Call signs. No matter if you’re in the Marines, Navy, or Air Force, you get a call sign. Some badass ones like Iceman and Maverick may have a cool background if you assume, but in reality, most of them come from pretty embarrassing things. Like Payback for example and the amount of bets that he lost. Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia, on the other hand, has another story.

The first of artists covering other artists' songs first came out in the 1950s. Soon over half a decade later, cover videos started to come out more on YouTube. Singers like Sam Tsui, Christina Grimmie, Conor Maynard, and many others have risen to fame with their covers coming out in the late 2000s/early 2010s. Some have also got the chance to be signed to record labels and winning awards like Y/N L/N. To Mickey though, he doesn’t think of Grammy Award winner Y/N L/N, he thinks of Y/N L/N who he used to help record her cover videos in her bedroom or the backyard of her house.

Every Friday since meeting each other freshman year of high school, Y/N would drag Mickey out of their last period class and out of their high school in Miami to her house to start recording cover videos. As she uploaded her videos onto YouTube, her views went from a few hundred to a few thousand until one day.

“Mickey! Mickey!” The junior yelled her best friend’s name as she ran down the school hallway. “Where are you?”

“Yo! What’s going on?” Mickey closed his locker after grabbing everything he needed.

He turned to face the singer whose face was all red from the running as the screen of her BlackBerry Bold was in his line of sight. Squinting his eyes a little, he looked at the screen which showed one of the recent covers she uploaded.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “One hundred thousand?”

“I know right!” The two of them started to jump together in celebration, ignoring the looks they’re getting.

“This is crazy!” Y/N said, still not believing that her cover of Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood reached that many views.

“You know what this means?” Mickey’s eyebrow was raised. “The chance of you getting signed to a record label.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Y/N let out a laugh. “Never in a million years.”

“Hey,” he gently squeezed her shoulder. “It’s going to happen. I have a good feeling.”

Y/N shook her head at her friend’s nonsense and dragged him to their first class of the day.

Years passed and their friendship grew even more. They shared homecoming and prom dances together. They had many all nighters studying for the AP tests they signed up for and working on college applications. The both of them dated people but their relationships only lasted for three to four months max because they both were missing something. Mickey still continued to help Y/N post her covers on her channel which grew after that one day.

Towards the end of the summer break after they graduated, the duo had to head their separate ways for college. They still kept in contact though by the emails they sent each other and visiting each other in Miami during breaks. With every visit, their feelings grew more without them realizing it.

Mickey had achieved his dream of getting into the Naval Academy and became a weapons system officer, getting the callsign Fanboy from his classmates seeing him geek out and watch Y/N’s covers. Y/N continued uploading her covers onto YouTube while studying literature at the University of Miami. It wasn’t until her senior year of college she got the best news of her life.

The sound of her sandals slapping the concrete sidewalk boomed as she ran down the concrete path which led to the park her and Mickey would sometimes hang out at. With his back facing against her, she leaped on his back which took Mickey out a little.

“Hey, you missed me that much?” Mickey laughed.

“Yeah, but I have some news,” Y/N answered.

“Which is?” He asked.

She didn’t verbally answer but she handed him the small stack of papers. Going through the papers, she saw the look on Mickey’s face as his face lit up with each page.

“No, you’re joking.” Mickey pulled her into a hug.

“I’m not,” she confirmed. “You’re looking at the newest artist signed with Atlantic Records.”

“You’re not going to forget me when you become famous right?” Mickey joked.

“Are you kidding? I won’t forget my best friend.” Y/N lightly punched his shoulder.

“Yeah, best friend,” Mickey sighed.

“What? Are you okay?” A quizzed look formed on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mickey brushed off his emotions.

“Hey Mick, tell me what’s up.” Y/N held his hand which sent sparks through the both of them.

“You’re going to hate me when I do this,” he said.

“Do wh-” Y/N was interrupted when Mickey’s lips touched hers.

Butterflies and fireworks exploded inside them as their lips moved in sync. Detaching their lips from each other to catch their breath, they looked each other in the eyes questioning what just happened.

“Did that just?”

“Yeah.”

Kissing each other again, they confirmed that their feelings for each other were true. After the second kiss, Mickey decided to take Y/N for an early dinner to celebrate her getting a record deal and have a pre-first date date.

More years have passed with the both of them graduating with their degrees. Their relationship grew more as they became official. Mickey was out doing the five years required to serve after he graduated after the academy. Y/N on the other hand was busy writing and recording her first album. Constant filming for her music videos and traveling to promote her album.

Despite them being hundreds or thousands of miles apart, they managed to keep their relationship alive. They had many video calls together and if she toured in an area where Mickey was at, he would watch her concerts with Reuben “Payback” Finch, who is the only person that knows her and Mickey are together other than close friends and family. When Y/N started to become more well known, she wanted to keep her personal life private. She did post pictures of her and Mickey together on her social media accounts but they didn’t show Mickey’s face.

On the eve of Mickey’s last deployment, she came back home with the living room of their shared house decorated with flowers and lit candles. In the space where their coffee table used to be, Mickey was on one knee holding a velvet box in his hand. With a short and sweet speech as tears ran down their faces, Y/N nodded her head saying yes to his proposal. A few months after Mickey came back from his deployment, the two had a small private ceremony with their close friends and family in a cabin up in the Santa Cruz mountains. Reuben as Mickey’s best man and Y/N’s college roommate as her maid of honor.

Luckily for Y/N, she could travel and stay anywhere with her job. With Mickey being moved from base to base because of his job, she would follow him while still making music while renting a house off base. From time to time she would have to travel and stay in New York for a little bit for meetings and to record her music. Thankfully when Mickey got called back to Top Gun, they resided permanently in a house that was only a fifteen minute drive away from base after the Dagger Squadron was made permanent in San Diego. Many dinners with her, Mickey, and Reuben were shared as they told stories of the other squadron members they met for the mission. Y/N continued to make music and released her next album which caused her to be away from Mickey to promote it and tour around Europe and North America.

After a day of training, the Dagger Squad decided to head to the Hard Deck for some drinks.

“Amelia has been depressed since the LA tickets for Y/N sold out,” Rooster said before taking a sip of his beer.

“Really?” Mickey raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, Y/N is one of her favorite singers. Ever since those tickets sold out the first day, she’s been blasting her music in her room and headphones,” the aviator answered.

The WSO nodded his head and excused himself. Taking his phone out, he checked the time to see that Y/N wasn’t on stage yet. Calling her and waiting for a few rings, she answered her husband’s call.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” She asked. “How was work?”

“It was good, got our asses handed by Maverick but that’s normal,” he chuckled. “How are you?”

“I’m good, just two hours before we head onto stage,” she replied. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but hey can I ask for a favor?” He asked.

“What is it?” She said.

“You know Rooster right?” Y/N hummed in confirmation. “Well, his little sister wants to see you in LA but the tickets sold out immediately. Is there any way you can get a ticket for her?”

“I’ll check, give me a minute,” she told him. “Stay on the line.”

Taking a sip of his drink, he waited for his wife while admiring the cooling winds of San Diego while the sun setted.

“Hey, you’re still there?” Y/N voice popped into his ear.

“Yeah, so what’s the verdict?” He replied, mentally crossing his fingers.

“Yeah, how many tickets do you need?” The singer asked. “Twelve plus your captain, his girlfriend, and daughter, that would be fifteen. Is that good?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we have more than enough tickets. Just tell everyone and I’ll send you the info. Also, all of y’all need a break from training.”

“Wow, I’ll tell everyone. Thank you for doing this. I love you.”

“I love you too. You can thank me later when you get to LA.” Mickey could already imagine the smirk on his wife’s face.

Hanging up the phone with a grin on his face, Mickey headed back into the bar and stood next to Rooster.

“I managed to get a ticket for Amelia,” he told the pilot.

“Wait, how?” The pilot questioned.

“I know someone who’s one of the guitar techs on her tour. I managed to get all of us plus Maverick and Penny a ticket,” he told everyone.

“Wait, we’re seeing Y/N in LA?” Phoenix started to fangirl a little. “Don’t mess with me Fanboy.”

“I’m not, I’ll text you the information into the group chat,” he confirmed.

“We’re going to see Y/N baby!” Coyote cheered.

While everyone celebrated, Reuben sent his WSO a smirk knowing who gave them the tickets.

*Concert Day*

“Mick, are you sure we’re supposed to park here?” Maverick asked as he got out of Rooster’s Bronco.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mickey answered his captain.

“Because we’re by where Y/N L/N’s tour bus is,” Rooster added.

“Trust me, we can be here,” Mickey reassured them while pulling out his phone.

Making the call, they waited for a few more minutes before Y/N’s manager came out of the Forum with VIP passes in hand. Mickey greeted the manager and they handed Mickey the passes. All of the members were shocked when they saw the passes they got, questioning how Mickey managed to get these. All of them thought they were getting tickets up in the nosebleeds, but they were mistaken.

“Mickey!” The singer jumped into her husband’s arms when she saw him.

“Hello my love,” the Navy man mumbled before kissing her.

Everyone except for Reuben was shocked at the sight they were seeing. They couldn’t believe that one of their WSO’s was kissing the singer they would soberly and drunkenly sing out the lyrics while doing karaoke.

“I missed you,” the singer wrapped her arms around Mickey’s neck.

“Me too, four weeks is too long.” Mickey moved a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face. “Everyone’s here already.”

Y/N moved away from Mickey and saw his pilot standing there with a grin on his face. “Ru-Ru, it’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you again too,” the pilot returned her hug.

Letting go of the hug, Y/N looked at the rest of her husband’s squadron who had shocked expressions on their faces. “Hi, you must be Mickey’s squadron and you must be Amelia, is that right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Amelia stuttered as her idol stood in front of her.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled at her and looked at Maverick who stood behind her. “You must be Captain Mitchell. Mickey and Reuben have been telling me great things about you.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you m’am. Thank you for inviting us,” Maverick said.

“Anything for Mickey's adopted family,” Y/N smiled. “Also, call me Y/N.”

“I will if you call me Pete or Maverick,” Pete smiled.

“That’s a deal,” Y/N chuckled and faced the squad again. “Mickey, wanna introduce me to your team members?”

Mickey nodded his head and introduced his wife to the rest of the Dagger Squad. After the introductions, everyone headed to the greenroom.

“So, you’re telling me that Reuben knew that Fanboy over here is dating Y/N?” Hangman asked. “The same Y/N who won a Grammy and many Billboard Music awards?”

“Not dating, we’re married,” Y/N corrected the Texan.

“What!” Everyone yelled/exclaimed.

“Married for almost five years.” Mickey and Y/N looked at each other in admiration.

“You knew that already didn’t you?” Halo asked Reuben.

“He should, he was my best man,” Mickey answered for his pilot. “Also, who do you think Don’t Blame Me is about?”

“And I thought Bob over here had secrets we don’t know about,” Omaha chuckled.

“Nah, she’s the only secret that I have.” Mickey tenderly pressed his lips onto his wife’s.

Soon after that, the topic of conversation changed, promising them the couple would host dinner to get to know Y/N more.

After spending an hour or so in the greenroom, Y/N had to start getting ready for the show. Giving his wife one last kiss, he met up with the squad following one of the assistants to the VIP booth Y/N set them in. The booth provided food, snacks, and drinks for them while giving them a view close to the stage.

The lights in the venue started to dim down as the crowd’s cheers started to rise. The band started playing the introduction and the cheers from the audience elevated as Y/N rose into the stage.

Throughout the concert, the energy was amazing. Everyone was screaming and jamming out to the lyrics. All of the Dagger Squad and Penny and Amelia were enjoying the time they were having and thanking Mickey for the tickets. Mickey was pretty sure he saw Hangman and Coyote doing the choreography to I Did Something Bad.

“Alright, before we do this next song, how is everyone doing?” Y/N asked the audience as they replied with cheers. “That’s good. Fun fact, the person that I wrote this next song about is in the crowd tonight with his friends. This song is dedicated to him. Love you darling.”

Y/N sent him a wink and he winked back at her. The band started to play Don’t Blame me and everyone was taken to church by the way she performed it. The singer got down on her knees, belting out the high note which caused Mickey to form a proud smile on his face.

After a few songs and the encore, the last show of the tour was finished. Mickey and the gang headed backstage to see Y/N in a pair of sweat shorts and one of Mickey’s old t-shirts.

“You were amazing.” Mickey picked her up and spun her around.

“Thanks,” she laughed. “So, what did you guys think?”

Everyone started to compliment her performance at the same time. Y/N blushed because she wasn’t used to compliments they were giving her and let out a laugh.

“So, instead of driving back to San Diego this late, my producer is out of town and allowed us to use her house to sleepover,” Y/N told them. “What do y’all think?”

Everyone nodded their heads in approval and started to leave the venue.