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coco-loco-nut · 14 hours

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Revelations - Part 3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: a fic focused on the readers career because YOU ARE A QUEEN

a/n: i wrote this before the Newey/RBR break up. i also can’t stop ending my fics with a social media post 😭

requests open masterlist

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When Daniel retired from F1, you were ready to pull the plug on your career, but he wouldn’t let you. He saw the passion you still had and didn’t want to extinguish it just because he wasn’t going to have a seat in the race anymore. Instead, he decided to live his best life as a stay-at-home dad while also coaching Florence who was naturally drawn to her dad’s karts.

Your family eventually moved to England, it being the easier move with your job promotion and Florence’s karting. You took the Chief Engineering Officer position after Daniel retired, working closely with the man who taught you so much. Adrian and you were a dynamic duo, the cars you build together are rocket ships. Daniel is an ambassador for Red Bull when he isn’t with Florence at karting competitions. You’ve been teaching Sidney about the mechanics behind karts and the cars, letting him come to work with you to shadow once in a while.

You walk into Christian’s office to remind him about the family dinner tonight, Max already promised to be in attendance with P and Kelly.

“Y/n, mind taking a seat?” Christian asks, you think nothing of it, figuring he just wants an update on the car.

“What’s up? There isn’t much of a progress update yet,” you say, sipping your coffee.

“I’d like to sign Florence into our driver development program. Not just because she is a Ricciardo, but because she has the technical knowledge and the talent. I know someone with Rodin who has a seat open for her in Formula 4,” Christian says and you nod, having gotten a similar offer from Mercedes and Ferrari. You feel pride in your daughter, her hard work and drive being recognized by top programs. It’s extra special because Christian is using his connections to help get her a seat with Daniel’s old F3 team.

“The PR will be tricky to manage, but would you like to tell her at dinner tonight?” you smile, F1 fans already joke about Red Bull being Ricciardo central. Sidney is preparing for his semester finals for Mechanical Engineering and you can’t believe it’s been ten years since they made their first paddock appearance. You negotiate some terms with Christian, the most important being that if she wants to leave the program and go to another, she can.

“We will announce it once she’s signed with the team, I’ll give my person a call,” Christian lets you know before you go to your office. You admire the family photo you took when Florence won the CIK-FIA world championship last month. She’s been dominating British karting all year, Daniel has been working so hard to help her get where she wants to be.

Your day flies by, and before you know it you are all seated in your living room.

“How’s the driver program selection going?” Max asks Christian, genuinely curious.

“I actually made my selection today, Florence, how do you feel about the family legacy?” Christian beams as her face lights up.

“Really? Oh my god, thank you Uncle Christian!” she darts over to him to hug him. “Uncle Maxie, you better watch out,” she grins at Max, who is a Red Bull institution.

“I’ll be very lucky if I am still racing when you get to F1, but I will be happy to coach you,” Max chuckles, knowing he’s pushing the limit of his career.

“No way, that job is reserved for me,” Daniel tells Max who just frowns at his friend for taking away his plan.

A few years later, your whole family is essentially traveling race to race. Sidney is interning with Red Bull, Florence is racing with Rodin in F2, and Daniel is living his best life as a commentator.

“Y/n, let’s grab coffee,” you’ve noticed that Christian tends to say that when he has something important to say.

“What’s wrong?” you cut straight to the chase.

“Max is retiring after this season and I am going to retire as well,” Christian says and a silence falls between you.

“It’s a well deserved retirement for both of you,” you say after a couple seconds.

“I am recommending you for team principal. I also want you to be involved in choosing who is the next driver for the team,” Christian says and you pause.

“I would be honored, that would be huge shoes to fill,” you say after a second.

“You deserve it, you’ve worked your way up from the bottom,” Christian reassures you. In the next month, you signed your contract and got Oliver Bearman to replace Max’s seat.

“You should’ve let me take the seat, Mom,” Florence smiles, you shake your head.

“Not yet, you are a wonderful driver, but I can’t sign you my first year as team principal,” you tell her. Your promotion has been well received among staff and fans. You take the promotion seriously, learning what you don’t know while Christian is still there.

Five years later you walk into testing excitedly. It is a special day for your family.

“Daniel Ricciardo here reporting from the Paddock for testing, let’s see who we can grab,” your husband says, looking towards the entrance where you are walking in. “Y/n Ricciardo, have a second for an interview,” he smiles as you ate into the frame.

“I do, rare for a team principal,” you smile adoringly at your husband, still the young driver getting his shot in your eyes.

“How do you feel going into testing?”

“Great, my engineers and I have worked hard on the car, we are excited to see how it performs against the field,”

“And you have a new driver this year? How is that going?”

“Well so far, as a team we’ve been watching her for years. She’s worked hard with our junior team and we are always excited to bring young talent in. It’s always a tough decision when choosing someone for a seat, but we are confident in our choice,” you say, keeping things professional. The fans watching live are loving the interview, commenting about how your family is acting as if you aren’t a family.

“One last question, your new driver, Florence Ricciardo, is bringing in her own race engineer, Sidney Ricciardo, an engineer who worked for Red Bull Racing in the past. Are there any worries about an unproven race engineer?” Daniel says, the two of you somehow keeping a straight face.

“Obviously we want our drivers to be comfortable with their race engineer. Sidney has been with the team for a while before going to McLaren, so we are excited to welcome him back. Our team has worked with him to familiarize himself with the job, and he will be beside me on pit wall today for that reason,” you explain, a small smile holding back the laughter.

“Thank you for your time, Y/n. Good luck today,” Daniel tells you before you walk off. The video goes viral among F1 fans for the sheer humor of it. Fans also love that Florence and Sidney are following their parent footsteps and career paths.

“That interview was so funny,” Sidney sits beside you in hospitality.

“Thank you, Sid. I may be old but I can still be funny,” you smile at your son. “Are you nervous? I remember how nervous I was on pit wall the first time as your dad’s engineer,” you ask him.

“I am your son, I’ve got it in the bag, plus it’s only Flo,” Sidney says as Florence barges into the room, sitting beside you. Daniel follows behind her, quietly sitting beside her.

“Thanks for basically disowning me on live television, Mom. Oh, hi Dad,” Florence hugs her dad as you all try not to laugh.

“Come on, Flo, it was funny watching Mom and Dad act like we all weren’t related,” Sidney laughs. The social media team takes a picture and posts it on twitter.

twitter

@redbullracing: guys, a bunch of people with the last name Ricciardo are sitting in our hospitality, I guess all but one works for us. Apparently they know each our team principal? Are they related or is this just a weird coincidence?

@y/nricciardo not related to me, just a weird coincidence.

↪️@florencericciardo MOM! STOP DISOWNING ME

↪️@sidneyricciardo no, no, please continue disowning her

↪️@danielricciardo Do you know who these two are, Y/n? I don’t recognize them

↪️@y/nricciardo I’m sorry, do I know a Daniel?

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo imagine

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evil-ontheinside · 1 year

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Byler royal AU where they're both princes from neighbouring kingdoms and the Byers come to visit for diplomatic negotiations.

They're on their way to idk the drawing room or smth when they hear a fight tm between Mike and his parents who plan to marry him off for diplomatic relations. He storms out but stops to formally greet the Byers before he leaves without another word. Joyce gives Will a look when he follows him with his eyes and gestures for him to follow (she 1) wants Will to make more friends his age and 2) noticed his (and Mike's) lingering looks when they arrived the day before)

Will finds him in the palace gardens and they talk for hours

Now, this can go in two different directions:

1) they seem to connect immediately and basically fall in love over the course of the next few days. The Party after they all meet plans a fake arrangement between Mike and El to trick Mike's parents, this involves a number of ridiculous situations in which they almost get caught but somehow manage to convince Karen and Ted that everything is going according to plan. At the wedding, they realize that it's not Mike and El who are getting married but Mike and Will

OR 2) their conversation drifts off into heavy flirting. They're staring at each other, everything around them disappearing, their lines get bolder and there's a meaningful shoulder touch before someone clears their throat very loudly. Turns out they were in the middle of a dnd campaign and decided to mess with Dustin and Lucas but it kind of... got out of hand

#i don't even know which scenario i think is funnier #they'd be so embarrassed in the second one but try to act like it was intentional #it doesn't work very well bc they're both blushing like crazy #and in the first one El would take one look at them and start planning the wedding #Mike awkwardly telling her that his parents wouldn't allow him to be with another man #and she's just like 'it's not like they have to know'#she gets Max to help her and they come up with the whole plan #they tell the boys to not worry about a thing. they got everything covered #so it's basically Byler going on dates and spending time with each other being all cute #and Elmax scheming in the background (with Lucas's and Dustin's help)#should I stop putting the best parts in the tags? nah #it's my brand at this point #stranger things #byler #platonic elmike #the party #mike wheeler #will byers

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captain-barnes-writes · 9 months

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Summer break (Charles Leclerc)

Summary: Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend enjoy making the grid uncomfortable with their PDA on Instagram.

Type: insta au

Pairing: Charles leclerc x fem!reader

Warning: sexual innuendos, the grid being traumatized by them (I love them and their commentary) 🤣

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Liked by DanielRicciardo, CarlosSainz55, LewisHamilton and others

LandoNorris Looking forward to summer break! Just not looking forward to the atrocities @ charlesleclerc and @ yourusername got in store for us these next few weeks 😓🥱

comments

CarlosSainz55 Agreed 🤐

DanielRicciardo Scrolling through insta is gonna be stressful

MaxVerstappen1 ^^ 😥

PierreGasly I’m staying out of insta for a while

LewisHamilton I think last summer’s posts left all of us scarred 😾

YourUsername leave us alone!! We love each other

LandoNorris Keep it pg!

CharlesLeclerc no 😐

EstebanOcon let’s hope it’s not as bad as last summer

YourUsername 🥱

User not the whole grid ganging up on them lmao

User they can’t keep their hands off each other

User I love that about them 😭

User you know it’s bad when even max comments

————

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

MaxVerstappen1 please no

YourUsername 😡

LandoNorris we’re not ready

YourUsername you started this 😶

CharlesLeclerc I love making people feel uncomfortable😏

YourUsername Babe you’re sitting right next to me

PierreGasly off to taint another place 🤢

YourUsername so are you and kika my friend 🙃

PierreGasly true

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Liked by LewisHamilton, PierreGasly, YourUsername and others

Tagged YourUsername

CharlesLeclerc I could watch her all day 🤤

Comments

YourUsername bikinis all day with you baby 🫶

CharlesLeclerc or none at all 😏

DanielRicciardo noooo it has begun!

LandoNorris 24 hours haven’t even passed yet 😭

EstebanOcon I think this summer is gonna be the worst

PierreGasly I hope your phones fall in the water

CharlesLeclerc Thanks Gasly

PierreGasly you’re welcome mate 😉

GeorgeRussell God help us all

User I’ve been waiting for this lol

User ready to see the grid feel uncomfortable 🤠

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Liked by CarlosSainz55, GeorgeRussell, CharlesLeclerc and others

Tagged CharlesLeclerc

YourUsername my two favorite things to eat 😼

Comments

DanielRicciardo no

DanielRicciardo stop

LandoNorris I’m sure they have worse things in store for us 🤧

YourUsername you’re right 😏

LanceStroll that’s cannibalism

CharlesLeclerc she’s my little cannibal 👀

LanceStroll 🫤

ScuderiaFerrari 😳

User she’s so well fed

User she eats good everyday im so jealous

User same ^^

User they have no filter lmao

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Liked by CharlesLeclerc, LanceStroll, DanielRicciardo and others

Tagged CharlesLeclerc

YourUsername I’m sorry @ scuderiaferrari I’m never letting him off this yacht 🤤 Can’t get enough of him👅💦💦

Comments

ScuderiaFerrari Don’t do this to us 😭

YourUsername I’m sorry in advance :)

User not Ferrari begging her to give their driver back lmaooo

CharlesLeclerc 😳

CarlosSainz55 this would’ve been a perfectly fine post without the caption

CharlesLeclerc it’s a perfectly fine caption 🤨

GeorgeRussell that’s considered kidnapping

YourUsername That’s not what he says ;)

DanielRicciardo this was cute until the caption

ScuderiaFerrari agreed 👀

LanceStroll why the tongue emoji out of all emojis seriously??

CharlesLeclerc you know why 😼

LanceStroll I’m logging out

EstebanOcon and to think we’re not even a week into summer 😖

User Ferrari is calm on the gram but they’re probably planning to press charges on the low lol

User 🤣

User her captions always cause chaos omg

User our chaotic queen

———————

This was fun to make lol probably a second part coming soon! I love me a chaotic inappropriate couple 🤣

Inspired by filth by fxxkemall 🫶 but in Charles form lol

#Charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc rec #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfic rec #f1

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verstappen-cult · 1 month

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Max is upset when you can't be at his side when the race weekend starts. Then when you're back to his side, I guarantee you can't not leave his side at all. This boy is going to stick with you like a koala till he's satisfied

You couldn't join Max the past weekend in Australia due to your work and now you regret it so much. You could’ve just asked your boss for a few days off and she would have said yes, and you could have been by his side during the fiasco that was the Australian Grand Prix.

Max was a little upset when you told him that you would not be in Australia, but after a long conversation — that ended up with you promising to be in Suzuka — he understood.

Max has to make a quick stop in Monaco to pick a few things before flying to Japan, so you planned to wait for him with a delicious dinner and his favorite dessert. But you didn’t even have time to go to the grocery store because Max decided to arrive earlier, much earlier.

“What do you mean you’re outside?” You squeal, putting on your sneakers. “Outside of where?” You hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you grab your bag, waving goodbye to your friends.

“The pilates studio.” He simply says.

“No, you’re in Australia.”

He laughs, “No, I’m in Monaco.”

“No becau—” You stop dead in your tracks when you step outside because he is, in fact, there, leaning against his car. “Max!”

He opens his arms and you don’t waste any time, colliding against his body. You drop everything just to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper against his neck, and you feel his smile when he kisses your cheek.

“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” He shrugs, grabbing your things from the floor. “I missed my lucky charm this weekend.”

Your smile fades at the memory of Sunday’s race. “I’m sorry for what happened.” Max shrugs again, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“These things happen. I won’t lie and say that I don’t care but we can’t cry about it, the team’s working on fixing everything and we’ll be back stronger than ever.”

You kiss him because there’s nothing else you could do. Hearing him talk that way when you know the old Max would have been beating himself up means everything to you.

“What was that for?” He chuckles when you pull away, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?” He rolls his eyes but leans to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Can you drop me off at the grocery store? I need to buy a few things for dinner.”

You fall into an easy conversation as he drives through the streets of Monaco. He tells you about everything that's wrong with the car and what they’re doing to fix those issues and, in return, you tell him what you’ve been doing in his absence, and how much the cats miss him.

Soon enough, you reached your destination.

“Okay, I won’t be long. You can go home and—what are you doing?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you’re going home to rest.” But he doesn’t listen. Max just gets out of the car, opens the door and helps you out. “Max.”

He groans, “I just,” He drops his head slightly forward. “I missed you so much, I don’t want to leave you.”

Your heart melts and you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking like a lost puppy in front of you, so you simply take his hand, dragging him inside.

Of course you don’t miss the way his whole face lights up.

You end up arguing in the milk aisle because Max doesn’t leave your side, not when you try to move away to grab something you need and definitely not when you bump into one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while, so you’re unable to hug her.

The argument ends with you pinned against the store shelves with Max whispering filthy things in your ear. You only pull away when the store manager clears his throat saying that “if you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be banned for life.”

You think that once at home Max will want to take a rest, forgetting about you, but, to your surprise, he just takes a quick shower before joining you in the kitchen.

You cook dinner together, with a few kisses and ear scratches to the cats. And then you eat together, talking about everything and nothing at all, enjoying each other’s company.

Of course Max doesn’t let you shower alone, he joins you there too.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine

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sinofwriting · 2 months

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Please, Oh Please - Max Verstappen (Part Two)

Words: 1,049 Summary: A direct continuation of Please, Oh Please that shows a few domestic moments between Max and her. Note(s): Just want to thank LB on ko-fi for this. They commissioned me to write this and I had such a fun time doing so.

Read Part One Here | Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

“You came over.” He watches as she yawns, eyes just barely opening for the first time this morning. “I came over.” The words are a mumble, not helped by the way she closes her eyes again and snuggles up to him. “You never come over.” She makes a humming noise and he nearly jolts at the way it tickles him. “Missed you. Apartment smells kind of like you. Missed you.” He holds her closer, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I missed you too.” “Yeah?” “Always, Schat. Always.”

The room goes quiet between them with only the sound of their breathing filling it, and Max can’t help but want this forever. It’s not a new want, hasn’t been for weeks, months, but it hits him again, all at once.

“I want you to move in.” His voice is quiet, just barely breaking the silence in the room. Her breathing stills. “What?” “I want you to stay here, to live here.” He turns his head a little to look at her, to look at those eyes that he loves. “I love you.” Her eyes widened. “I love you.” He repeats. “And I want to take care of you, to come home to you, to come back home with you.” “Max,” Her voice breaks. “Please?” He sits up a bit, making it easier for them to look at each other. “You have no idea what it meant to me last night. To come home and see that you have been here, to see you in bed, sleeping, waiting for me.” “Max.” She says again, stopping him as she sits up and her hands are framing his face. “I know how much it means.” Her dominant hand’s thumb strokes over his cheekbone. “I love you. I want to live here with you. To be here when you come home.” Her smile gentle and proud, turns a little bashful. “I want you to take care of me.”

—

Max fears the day that he grows used to this. Grows used to waking up with her in his arms, in his bed, or rather in bed with him considering the amount of traveling they do. It’s been five months since he came home to her, since he asked her to move in, to stay with him, five months since she said yes and he’s still getting used to it. Getting used to having her how he wants, how he had dreamed.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice thick from sleep breaks him out of his thoughts. “You.” She immediately presses her head into his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up.” She mumbles. “Okay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Wait.” He nearly laughs at the predictability of it. It's always went like this, he’d fluster her, she’d tell him to be quiet or to shut up, he’d say okay, and immediately she’d say wait, or don’t.

“I have the tournament tomorrow. I won’t be able to go shopping with you tomorrow.” She huffs out a laugh, lifting her head up. “I can go by myself, it’s only one or two bags.” “They’ll be heavy.” “It’s groceries, lovey. I can carry two bags of groceries.” He pouts, “Why don’t we go today?” “Because you promised me a whole day, just you and me, in the apartment, lazing about.” Max sighs, because he had promised that, even if it was normally how they spent their days together, they did have a trip with her friends planned in a few days and immediately after they’d be going to see his sister. Which meant for a solid week they wouldn’t really have time for just the two of them. “Will you at least take a car?” Her nose wrinkles but she nods. “I’ll take a car.”

—

“You have to stop leaving me your card.” “Card? What card?” He asks, waving at GP to go ahead of him. “Max.” She draws out his name a bit. “You know what card. It’s the card you think you're being sneaky about when you leave me with it.” He leans against the wall. “Oh, that card.” “Mhmm. That card.” “What about it?” “What about,” she stops, spluttering. “Max, I don’t need your black card.” “What if something happens?” “I’m getting on a flight to you in less than ten hours. You left just last night.” He shrugs, smiling as he adjusts the phone against his ear. “What if you want something?” “I’ll use the card that you gave to me, that’s in my name. Not your black card. Which you really shouldn’t be giving to people.” “I don’t give it to people, I give it to you.” His voice softens a bit on the last word. She sighs, “That’s very sweet, lovey.” “Mhmm.” “Still not using it.”

—

She grins up at him, whole face alight with excitement. “Hi race winner.” She greets, arms tightening a bit around him as mechanics and such move around the garage. “Hi liefje.” His arms wrap around her in turn, tucking her into him. “I’m so proud of you.” She murmurs against his chest covered by sweat soaked nomex. “So proud.” He rocks them a bit as he presses his lips to her hair. “Yeah?” “Of course.”

She pulls away a bit, mouth opening, and he knows that it’s to tell him to go shower quickly, before he really starts to smell, champagne and sweat unsurprisingly not making a good scent, but before she can, he presses their lips together. Interrupting their normal routine.

Her body tenses against his for a second, before it relaxes. The feeling makes him sigh, and one of his hands moves to cradle her face as the other grabs at her waist a little tighter, keeping her pressed against him.

“I love you so much.” He breathes when they pull apart. “I love you too.” Her soft, gentle smile turns a little playful as soon as she finishes the sentence. “Now go and take a shower, I have a private celebration for you.” His eyebrows raise, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Something I’ll like?” “Something you’ll love.” The promise makes it a bit hard to swallow and he’s quick to press another kiss to her lips. “Thirty minutes and we’ll be gone, yeah?” “Sounds perfect.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

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theemporium · 8 months

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Max ready to destroy the earth if someone so much as disrespects or pisses Trouble off

it’s low-key giving will smith🤠anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

Max was always very blunt and honest in conferences and interviews, it was just the way he was.

And it wasn’t uncommon for him to defend himself and his friends in said interviews. He did it countless times when journalists tried to push stories about him being too aggressive, too angry, too competitive on track.

He did it countless times when they would come for Charles and blame he was taking for his team’s mistakes. He did it countless times when people questioned Daniel’s performance and his right to have the Red Bull seat. He did it countless times when they tried to drag Lando for not achieving highly when McLaren weren’t giving him the car he needed to be proving he could do as much.

And he would be damned if he didn’t do it for you too.

It was after a race. He was tired, exhausted even, and all he wanted to do was wrap up the rest of his duties so he could maybe sneak a nap in with you before you both joined the rest of the team for a night out to celebrate his win.

He was approaching the last interviewers, a name he vaguely recognised and his nose scrunched up when he remembered most of the man’s questions were tasteless and dry. But he shrugged it off, keeping a passive face as he approached the journalist with his PR manager lingering behind him with a tape recorder in hand.

“Max Verstappen, how does it feel to be a winner again?”

He gave the man a tight-lipped smile and hoped it was enough to hide his exhaustion as he continued the interview.

And it was going fine, in retrospect. The man’s questions were similar to the countless ones he had been asked before. But he couldn’t complain because they were easy to answer, and easy to mostly zone out until he knew he had to answer.

Until he asked something that caught Max’s attention right away.

“Any plans to celebrate with your side piece after your race win? Maybe get her on her knees?”

Max blinked, and for a short moment he wondered if he just completely mistranslated what the man said.

“What?”

But the man repeated the question again, a slimy smirk on his face and your name was rolling off his tongue. And truthfully, Max didn’t even remember moving or reacting or even breathing in that moment.

One second the man was holding a microphone to his face, awaiting his answer. And the next, he was on the floor as he clutched his bloody nose and screamed Bloody Mary.

He was vaguely aware of other drivers and journalists and PR managers looking over, trying to understand the scene in front of them. He was vaguely aware of security being called and someone mentioning Christian or Helmut. He was vaguely aware of someone trying to tug him back, but he just shrugged them off.

“She’s my girlfriend, you moronic dickhead,” Max spat at the crying journalist. “Put some fucking respect on her name.”

“Alright, let’s go before you break any more noses,” he heard Daniel mutter behind him, and this time he let himself be pulled back.

But then his eyes caught the wide, scared gaze of the cameraman who was recording the whole thing, and he glared. “I hope that bullshit was live. Because next time, I’m breaking more than a fucking nose if anyone ever disrespects her again.”

Despite the commotion being sudden, news spread very quickly around the paddock so it was no surprise to Max that you knew by the time he made it to his driver’s room.

“Playing the knight in shining armour now, huh?” You teased as he entered, still sprawled on the couch without a bother in the world.

“He deserved it,” Max stated simply as he made his way towards you. No matter what happened, no matter what put him in a shitty mood, just being near you always helped.

“He did,” you hummed as you opened your arms and let your boy settle on top of you, his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Always, Trouble,” he murmured in reply.

A few beats passed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you do it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice as casual as possible as you ran your fingers through his hair. “It was kinda hot.”

You could feel his smirk against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Max lifted his head, his eyes a little darker and his mood significantly different to when he entered minutes ago. “Hot enough for me to fuck you over this couch?”

“Hot enough for you to have me any way you want me,” you confessed, your words a little breathier than usual as you felt his hands graze down your side.

Max’s smile was almost sadistic. “Bend over the couch, Trouble.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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vivwritesfics · 4 months

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No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Eight - The End Of It All

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.4K words

This is the final chapter of NNTA! I can't believe we're at the end. After 50000 words and heartbreak, we're finally at the end. Of course, I'm always open to blurb ideas for this series!

Series Masterlist

Being pregnant was hard, Y/N Sainz decided as she waddled around the house with Bones at her said. Bones was the guard dog, a beautiful Doberman, that her husband had bought for her. They had two other dogs, but Bones was hers, completely loyal to her.

She sat on the sofa, below the air conditioning, and turned on the television. Bones jumped up onto the sofa beside her, laying his head on her too large baby bump as the television started up.

"Querida," said Carlos as he walked past her, papers in his hands. He stopped and bent down to give her a kiss. "How is our little man doing?"

He didn't say anything about Bones, who usually wasn't allowed on the sofa when Carlos was there. Just scratched the space between his ears.

Y/N lifted Bones's head and grabbed a hold of Carlos's hand. She placed his hand onto her bump and let him feel. "Any day now," she said. "I can't wait to have him out of me."

Grinning, Carlos leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I can't wait to get you pregnant yet again," he said with a cheeky grin.

He went to stand up, but Y/N had already wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him in place. "Sweetie," she said slowly, still wearing her saccharine smile. "Honey, darling."

But then the smile dropped from her face. "You're not putting another baby in me, Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," she said and let go of him. "Not for another year, at least."

Carlos laughed and leaned down to give her one last kiss. He scratched the top of Bones's head and made his way back up to his office.

Ever since everything went down, Carlos was a different man. He'd stayed the same as the man Y/N had for company in the cabin, if not even sweeter. He wasn't cruel, he wasn't domineering and he wasn't abusive.

He was perfect.

Y/N watched the television in Spanish, with English subtitles on the bottom. It was really helping with her grasp of the language. Carlos helped too, when he could, whispering sweet words in her ear late at night. But, the biggest help of all, was Señora Sainz.

She refused to speak to Y/N in any sort of english, so she had to learn to adapt. During family dinners (where Carlos sat in the place of his father), the entire family spoke in Spanish, chatting about their day and whatever else came to mind.

After she had been watching Spanish soap operas for an embarrassing amount of time, Carlos walked out of his office, down the stairs and over to his wife, sitting in the seat opposite her.

"Verstappen wants Max to come and stay with us for a few days," he said as he laced his hands together.

This was great new. Y/N loved Max and she hadn't seen him since her short stay in the Netherlands. But there was something off about the whole thing. "Is Verstappen sending him as punishment for something?"

The look Carlos gave her confirmed it. Max was being punished for something and, knowing Jos, it was probably for being too soft. "We should just keep him here," she mumbled under her breath and readjusted her seating position (it was incredibly hard to get comfy being this pregnant). "He's twenty six and his dad treats him like a naughty little boy." She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I hate Jos."

Max arrived at the Sainz house the next day. He went to say hello to Y/N, to wrap his arms around the woman he had gotten close to all those months ago, but Bones wouldn't let him. Held back by Carlos he barked at Max, snapping at his heels.

That was the first thing Carlos concentrated on, allowing the guard dogs to get used to him. It wasn't long before they realised he wasn't a dangerous intruder.

Max was the perfect companion for Y/N. He kept her company, had her relaxing with him in the pool (he was the first person to try going down the slide that Carlos had installed).

He was only in the Sainz house for a week before she went into labour.

The contractions started and Y/N didn't say anything, suffering through it with clenched teeth. Max didn't notice at first. He ate popcorn as they watched a movie, completely unaware.

And then they got stronger, closer together, and Y/N struggled to hide it. And then her water broke.

"Fuck!" Max cried when he finally notice. "Shit, shit, shit!" He ran out of the room, up the stairs and into Carlos's office. "The baby! Coming! Help!" He cried.

Max had never seen somebody move as fast as Carlos did in that moment. He was out of his office in the blink of an eye and running down the stairs heading towards his wife. "Max! Get the go bag from my closet!" He shouted.

As Carlos headed to Y/N, Max ran down the hall and into Y/N and Carlos's bedroom. He went straight into the walk-in closet and went through it, searching for the go bag. Carlos hadn't thought about what was in the closet when he sent Max to get the go bag. He didn't think about Max pushing the handcuffs, whips and more to the side as he searched for the go bag.

But Carlos didn't have time to think about that. He crouched in front of his wife and pushed her hair out of her face. "Mi amor," he said, taking her hands. "Max said the baby is coming. Are you ready to go to the hospital?" His voice was calm as he spoke.

Y/N nodded her head. "Get this thing out of me," she said through a laugh and allowed her husband to help her up.

Slowly and carefully he walked her through the house, leading her to the front door. Max joined them, go bag over his shoulder. He held the front door open as Carlos walked her towards the car.

Being the wife of Carlos Sainz, head of the Sainz family, meant that she got the best medical care available. Her cries filled the hospital as she pushed, her husband holding her hand and pressing a damp cloth to her forehead. "You're doing it, baby," he said softly.

Y/N couldn't hear him as he spoke, too focused on the pain. Nothing could have prepared her for this feeling. But it would all be worth it, she had to keep telling herself.

After a matter of hours (although it felt a lot longer), Oscar Pau Sainz was crying in his fathers arms. He had been wrapped in a blanket, a little blue hat on his head. Y/N had her eyes closed as she took a moment to rest, utterly exhausted after the whole ordeal.

Left out in the waiting room, it had been Max's job to inform the other heads of families. Everybody (but his own father, who didn't really care) messaged to congratulate the couple and made arrangements to get to Spain as soon as possible

The next day, after staying overnight in the hospital, Carlos and Y/N drove him. Max had taken the car and driven home the day before, but had come back to pick the couple up. He drove with Carlos in the passenger seat and Y/N in the back with baby Oscar, her baby Oscar.

"A package for you guys came," said Max as they drove towards the house. "I've left it in the kitchen."

When they got to the house, Y/N and Carlos walked straight up stairs and into baby Oscar's room. "This is your bedroom," she whispered as Carlos carried the carrier inside.

As Y/N laid baby Oscar in the crib, Carlos ran downstairs for the package. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly wasn't this. He placed the package back in the box and brought it up to his wife, who was sitting in the rocking chair in baby Oscar's room.

"Here," he said, passing it to her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up, sitting in her place and pulling her into his lap.

Y/N took the item out of the box. It was a little stuffed rabbit that looked a little worn and old, but had certainly been cleaned. "Oh, this is lovely," he said, laying the rabbit in her lap as she grabbed a hold of the note inside of the box.

He'd want him to have this - N. Piastri (Oscar's mom)

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delulujuls · 6 months

Text

navy fury | mv33

im a redbull stan and max's girlie till i die (but my heart is papaya shaped) so please enjoy this one as well!

summary: max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back

warnings: negative emotions, angst, max struggling with his demons, jos verstappen (he is the biggest warning lol)

pairing: max verstappen x fem!mclarendriver

Max would often get angry.

More often than he would like it to be. More often than he would want a consuming wave of anger to wash over him, for fury to engulf him and inject its burning venom into his veins. He would get angry over trivial things, get angry over bigger issues either. Anger would truly eat him up every time something didn't go as planned.

However, he tried to fight with his anger and negative emotions at all costs. Instead of processing them, letting go and moving on, he would bottle them up, allowing them to fester and poison his entire being. He preferred to get angry in solitude, where he knew nothing wrong would happen and even if it did, he would be the only one harmed.

Unfortunately, Max found a kind of satisfaction and comfort in hurting others. Emotions dissipated much faster when he could engage in an argument with someone rather than sitting in silence with only his own screams shattering his head.

If Max could have any control over himself and his emotions, he would unplug the anger outburst responsible for explosions of anger like this one.

He didn't hear the insults that left his mouth, didn't hear Christian's shouts telling him to calm down. He didn't feel the strong arms of the mechanics holding him back and pulling him away from Lance Stroll, who sat on the ground with a bleeding nose. In moments like this, Max was guided by nothing but emotions, desperately trying to find any way out.

In moments like this Max knew that to feel relief he had to destroy something. It didn't matter if it was a glass, his shattered fists or the bleeding nose of that Aston Martin dickhead who ruined his entire race.

Many people in his immediate surroundings distinguished the Dutchman before the anger storm and after it. Before it was Max, after it, there was only Verstappen.

Just as Max was the friendly, smiling guy who joyfully congratulated his rivals, willingly gave interviews and joked with team members, Verstappen was a walking hailstorm from which lightning could strike at any moment.

"Fucking idiot."

He growled one last time and walked deeper into the garage, where everyone he encountered averted their gaze and moved out of his way. It was always best to simply get out of Max's way and let him cool down. But no one knew that the fire of anger was just beginning to burn and the epicenter was yet to come.

"What the hell was that, Max?"

Cold water. The hiss of an extinguished fire.

He felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing his father's voice. Jos Verstappen was the only person who could instantly turn his anger into pure, filtered fear.

Max unzipped his racing suit, unable to look his father in the face. He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say either, he had just let his father down. Not for the first time though.

"I asked you a question."

His father's cold, gruff tone cut Max to the core and once again, Max was six years old, stuttering as he explained to his dad why he crashed his go-kart into his friend's. Apologizing and making excuses, saying it wasn't his fault that another seven-year-old cut him off. In his eyes, Max wasn't a grown man with an amazing track record, he was just a brat who needed discipline because he made idiotic mistakes.

His father was about to thunder over him again when the whole stormy situation was suddenly illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Quite literally, as it was Y/N still dressed in her bright McLaren suit, who upon hearing about the commotion in the Aston Martin garage hastily went out to found her friend.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but Max is needed in the studio," she said quickly, grabbing Max's hand "Come on, Max, we need to go."

"We'll come back to this conversation."

His father mumbled under his breath, watching them go.

The girl squeezed her friend's hand tighter and started pulling him in the opposite direction, wanting to get him away from his father as quickly as possible.

"I'm not in the mood for interviews."

"There's no interview; I had to come up with something quickly to get you out of there."

Max stopped, causing Y/N to be pulled back as well. Surprised by his sudden decision, she turned to him with a questioning expression.

"I want to be alone right now, without anyone."

He let go of her hand but she still stubbornly held onto his fingers.

"We both know you don't want to be alone."

Max shook his head in denial. The last thing he wanted was to be in her company right now. He knew that when the commotion and the crowd disappeared, all the emotions would flood over him like a toxic wave.

"You don't understand."

"Yes, I don't understand because you don't give me the chance."

The girl approached him, their bodies only a few inches apart.

"Everything is fine between us only when you're in a good mood. We are really close, we spend time together and we are acting like actual friends. But as soon as something doesn't go your way and your behavior changes, you build a thick wall between us." Y/N looked into his eyes, shaking her head. "Friends don't do that, Max."

"That's what the best friends do," he replied, looking into her eyes. As they were always in the colour of the clear sky, in that moment they were having a storm inside. "The best friends won't drown you in the shit that's swirling through their lives, they won't drag you into their inner conflicts. The best friends won't be a burden to you, you know why? Because they'll just spare you that!"

Y/N embraced him without a word. She hugged him with such force that someone would need chains to pull her away. She had no intention of leaving Max's side, no matter what he was struggling with. She wanted to help him, to be his support and to be the light in his darkest nights. She had no intention of letting him continue to deceive himself with assurances that everything was always perfect. Because life never looks that way.

Adult Max didn't return her embrace, knowing that it was for the best. Adult Max closed his eyes and tilted his head, not wanting to let a single tear escape. He hoped that by remaining distant, by hurting the girl with his indifference, she would let go of him. But Little Max didn't want to make her sad; he wanted to hug his friend and not let her go until everything will be okay again.

"I won't leave you with this, Maxie. If you like it or not."

Maxie.

Lighter.

Explosion.

He exploded in tears without any warning. He sank to his knees and tightly embraced his friend, burying his face in her stomach. Y/N stroked his hair, holding him close. She didn't try to calm him, knowing full well that he just needed to cry. He needed to let out all the sadness, anger, and bitterness that had accumulated in his veins and poisoned him for years.

When the girl kissed his wet cheek, she could swear that it left a bitter taste on her lips.

And it was exactly the venom finally letting him go.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 one shot #f1 imagines #mclarendriver #mv33 #mv33 x reader

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multifandomgirl08 · 6 months

Text

Wedding Headcanon [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr

Format: Headcanon/Social Media

Summary: Headcanons from Max and the Reader's wedding. Social Media posts from during their honeymoon.

Warning(s): N/A

Words: 0.8k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

The wedding was with about 100 people there (Maybe slightly over, who's really counting)

The whole grid came. + Sebastian came but didn't RSVP until the last possible minute.

Christian, Geri, and most of the engineers from RBR ended up coming (ex. GP, Calum, Jonathan, and Hannah), those who weren't able to make it sent Max their congratulations

Lewis ended up sitting on Y/N’s side of the aisle instead of Max’s.

Y/N was nervous to walk down the aisle but talking to Sophie helped calm her down

“Sophie,” Y/N said to her as they walked hand in hand before the music started playing for her to walk down the aisle. “I just want to thank you. Thank you for raising Max the way that you did, and being there for him when Nico came into his life.”

You could see that Sophie was starting to tear up a bit. “My son loves you, and my grandson too. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife to my son even if I had a hand in choosing her myself.”

Victoria ends up being Y/N's Maid of Honor

Max did end up crying when Y/N came walking down the aisle

Her dress was custom-made, and she wore ivory instead of the traditional white

Daniel tried to joke that he lost the rings when the officiant asked for them. Max ended up just laughing before Daniel slipped them into his hand.

There is a section of Y/N's wedding vows to Nico

Nico ended up crying into the skirt of her dress not wanting to let go of her during the rest of the ceremony

Max ends up spending the first few moments of his vows stumbling over his words before reaching for Y/N's hand, needing to feel her to ground him back to just her

Lando offers to DJ the wedding reception as his wedding present, and he would have if Martin hadn't already agreed to do it months before

Daniel made the best best man speech known to man with just the right amount of jokes. His speech ended with,

"But I digress, Y/N, you make Max so happy and have become an integral part of his family. I hope Max, that you know how lucky you are to have her in your life." Daniel lifted his champagne glass. "To many more years for the two of you, to Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen."

Victoria kept her Maid of Honor speech rather short but welcomed you into the family and joked with Max that if he screwed up she got to keep you in the divorce

Max laughed before giving Y/N a questionable look as if to say, Something I don't know about? Before breaking out into a smile knowing that Victoria is joking

Max quickly interjected, "I don't plan on letting that happen." before lifting her hand and lightly kissing the back of it

Everyone drank from their glasses and Nico and Victoria's boys got glasses of sparkling apple cider

Nico ends up cutting in during Max and Y/N's first dance

On the cake topper, the groom is in a race suit instead of a tux

Y/N ends up shoving Max's face into the wedding cake after it was cut

Halfway through the evening, Daniel ended up stealing the photographer's camera and started taking candid photos of everyone

Max and Y/N leave the day after the wedding, Nico staying with Sophie until both you and Max get back from you're honeymoon

ynverstappen

Liked by martingarrix, tiffanycromwell, and 345,926 others

ynverstappen My travel buddy

oscarpiastri Don't know where you're going but can you bring me back a keychain?

landonorris Keychain? I'm surprised that Y/N is even posting on her IG

lewishamilton Enjoy the honeymoon guys 🏝️ 🏞️

View all 381 comments

fan50 I want what she has...

agirlsguidetof1 Officially not allowed to gatekeep shirtless photos of Max anymore

Feb 3, 2025

ynverstappen

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 391,872 others

ynverstappen Before dinner, during and after

View all 605 comments

raquel.james OMG! So cute!! 💘💘

formu14leclerc How do all of her photos maintain the same aesthetic?

girlonthxgrid 😍😍 They are the best couple!

Feb 7, 2025

verstappen1.jpg

Liked by ynverstappen and 273,837 others

verstappen1.jpg Being with you is simply lovely

ynverstappen ❤️❤️❤️

View all 368 comments

fan97 These photos feel like they're straight out of a Vogue shoot

fan47 Max pulled out the Simply Lovely. I'm Dead!

maxverstappen1

Liked by ynverstappen, victoriaverstappen and 586,745 others

maxverstappen1 To share everything with you.

View all 354 comments

fan60 Max double posting on two accounts in the span of a day

fan85 I know it's their honeymoon, but Max is gatekeeping all of the gorgeous pictures of Y/N for himself

Feb 9, 2025

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #mini verstappen headcanon

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adventuringblind · 2 months

Text

She's My Princess

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Daniel Spoils his girl... That's it. That's the plot.

Warnings: Soft dom Daniel, Daddy kink, BDSM, Voyeurism (if you squint), bondage, age-play (again, if you really look hard enough), choking

Notes: This is my happy place, right here. Mildly self-indulgent but all fanfiction is so I don't care. I hope the requester likes it!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

This side of Daniel is something she sees often. He's a soft person and treats her as such. Dotes on her like she's a porcelain doll.

He zips the back of her dress and ties her shoes. He carries her bag to the car and buckles her in. It makes her feel small, entirely to warm inside.

"I'm sorry we have to go out tonight." His plan had been to ravish her until she couldn't think. Until they got a surprise call from Max saying he's in town for a couple days and wants to get dinner.

It had been over a month since they saw Max last, and Daniel had only said yes after he talked with her about it.

Daniel, still very intent on keeping his promise, has been not letting her do anything for herself all day long. She's been spoiled far more than necessary, but every ounce of insecurity only made Daniel more intent.

"It'll be nice to see everyone!" She assures. "I could care less about what we do as long as you're there."

"How did I get so lucky?" She blushes under his gaze and tries to look away, but Daniel's fingers foil her. "If you're good for dinner, I'll make this whole thing up to you later. Sound good?"

"Yes daddy."

He pats her cheek. "That's my girl."

He holds her hand as they walk inside. He pulls her chair out for her at the table of drivers.

Daniel makes small talk with the guys and the WAGS that had come with. She tries, but her mind is focused on Daniels hand sneaking up her thigh.

She tries to ignore when he rubs a finger over the thin lace of her panties. She's mid-sentence and ends up stuttering, but she manages to pull herself together. Daniel teases her about the blush on her face.

He keeps up his antics until dessert when he slips a finger into her, obnoxiously wet cunt. She, not so gracefully, chokes on her water. She makes not a sound after. It's not like they've never done this before. Daniel's just not making this any easier with the way he keeps calling her a good girl in her ear.

It feels like an eternity until they can leave. When Daniel finally helps her out of her chair and guides her to the car.

The drive home takes an interesting turn when Daniel has her sucking him off while he's driving. He's skilled in multitasking. Specifically in the art of fucking her throat and keeping his eyes on the road.

Daniel paints her mouth white during a particularly long light. She gets satisfaction in knowing this is what she does to him. That he's desperate enough to fuck her mouth while he drives because he can't wait.

The Aussie hauls her into the house and throws her onto the bed like she weighs nothing. Which is quite the compliment in her eyes. Her body, in her opinion, should not be that easy to carry.

"You did so good tonight, Princess." He kisses her, open mouthed and dirty. He sucks on her tongue and makes a whimpering mess out of her.

Her literally rips her dress off. A whispered promise to buy her a new one is said against her chest. Right before he swirls his tongue around her nipple, alternating between each side. His hands press into her upper back, pulling her further into him.

"Daddy, please - need you."

Daniel moves lower and settles between her thighs. He makes a point to blow on her on her before flattening his tongue and licking upwards.

Her hands find his hair. An attempt to ground her thrashing body. It makes no difference. Daniel still has to pin her hard enough to leave bruises.

His teeth graze over her clit. He sucks on her in the way that drivers her insane. Until the only word she knows is his name.

"Daddy - need to - pleassseee-" Her eyes roll back into her head as Daniel double down on his efforts. The permission is non-verbal in the way he taps her thigh a few times, allowing no break.

She releases onto his tongue. It's wet and it's everywhere and Daniel cleans every bit of it with his mouth.

He launches upwards to kiss her. She can taste herself on his shiny lips. He doesn't give her a break. Three fingers are jammed into her and she wails.

"You're doing so good baby girl. Taking everything I give you." The sounds he's making with her pussy are obscene. His fingers curl upward, sending her body spiraling.

A hand puts pressure around her throat. She sucks in as much air as she can, but inevitable her vision starts to go dark. Daniel opens and closes his hand in perfectly timed intervals, keeping her right on the edge of coherency.

"Cum for me princess, you can do it. We've gone for more rounds than this before."

Daniel has to pin her with effort this time around. He doesn't stop talking, the roughness of his voice rings through her ears. "Such a good girl for me. Just gorgeous like this, a right fucking messy slut, aren't you."

Daniel moves off the bed to get the rest of his clothes off. She cries real tears at the loss. Still to disoriented to know where he is. "Oh baby, I'm still here. You feeling fuzzy? Needy for my cock?" Embarrassment and shame are nothing to her as her tongue rolls out of her mouth and her head nods yes.

Daniel ties a rope around her wrists and secures it to the headboard. He chuckles as she watches him with glassy eyes and no resistance, just dead weight as he tries to adjust her position.

It takes entirely to long for Daniel to get inside of her. For her to feel his body pressed against her. His hips rutting into her, desperate and dominating. She couldn't fight him if she tried.

The pace he sets is relentless. The free hand not holding him up is rubbing at her clit. His mouth close enough to to brush up against hers, but he's still talking to her. Keenly aware of what his voice does to her. She's not sure what he's even saying, aside from that she's a good girl; his princess.

His teeth latch onto her throat, biting and sucking away at it until she thinks she might actually be bleeding onto his tongue. "Mine, all mine. My perfect little girl."

His thrusts are getting sloppy. She's been pushed past the point of overstimulated and isn't sure she can come again. "Let go for me baby, I know you can. I wanna feel you tighten around me. Can you do that for daddy?"

She's crying again. She cums so hard that it hurts her muscles. The line between pain and pleasure is blurred once again as Daniel wraps his hand around her throat again, completely cutting off her air.

She's choking on her scream. Barely aware that Daniel is painting her insides for the second time tonight. There are no thoughts aside from him.

Calming down is harder than expected. She's still twitching when Daniel is untying her. His hands caress her sides and praise her until she's able to breathe again.

Daniel carries her to the bathroom and gets them cleaned up. She's entirely to out of it, still partially crying and refusing to let go of his hand.

"Feeling good still, princess?" She hums happily as Daniel tucks them into bed. "Go to sleep baby, I'll be here when you wake up."

She curls up on top of his chest. Daniels arms wrapped around her to keep her from falling off him. "I love you, my perfect princess."

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Note

Hii hope you're having a lovely day

Can I get a forced proximity,fake dating smut with Eddie Munson and the phrase "come on I won't bite, unless you're into that"

this was such a fun prompt! below is 4k of eddie and r just being adorable as hell. warnings: fluff; barely edited because i’m at work and die like bob in the docs; fem!reader; smut, so 18+ minors dni.

It was supposed to be simple: show up to your ex's wedding with a date, so that way your friends from college wouldn’t look at you with pitying gazes that clearly said, “Look at the poor, sad, tragically lonely girl.”

For the record, you were none of those things. And maybe it was a little dramatic to think that way. Also yeah, maybe you received those questions from time to time—asked innocently enough, usually—when you planned on settling down, but what if you never wanted to?

But pretending, at the time, to be in a relationship seemed easier than avoiding all of those questioning stares and probing comments.

It had been Max’s idea, actually; you’d been helping tutor her for a college math test when she noticed the invitation on the fridge and you’d laughed about how it was your ex and you still frequented the same friend group, which meant being invited to his wedding was an absolute. You murmured to her in confidence that you really weren’t excited about going; mentioned you were the only one in your college friend group who hadn’t been married off yet or popped out a kid (you shuddered to think of either of the two).

“Why not bring a fake boyfriend or something?” She asked. It seemed so…silly at first. You’d arched a brow in her direction and chuckled to yourself, the tip of your pencil tapping against her loose leaf notebook absentmindedly. At your confusion, she proceeded, “You know? Ask Steve or Argyle…Eddie.”

“Don’t say Eddie like that,” you grumbled, chewing at the eraser tip.

The redhead flicked one of her braids over her shoulder, shrugging. “Don’t say Eddie like what?”

“How you did just now! You didn’t just say Eddie,” you explained, dropping your pencil down onto the paper. “You said Eddie. Like you’re insinuating something.”

“Yeah, like the big freaking crush you’ve had on him since you two were in high school together—”

“Your answer to number five is wrong.”

Max snorted. And that was that.

Luckily, Eddie’s amicable as he always is. When you suggest coming as your date, he’s quick to ask for times to pick you up and requesting the attire for the event. It’s an evening wedding, and he shows up in a dark suit that matches the color of his hair. The same suit that now rests over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up to the elbow, revealing endless whirls of tattoos he’s collected over the years since he graduated high school.

He’s—well, Eddie on a normal day is breathtaking. All dark hair that falls in waves to his shoulders, broad smiles, dark eyes that can see through your soul. Charming as hell, and just as charismatic. He’s the kind of person that brightens every room he walks into and graces with his presence.

Eddie at a wedding?

You’re practically heaving into your champagne glass with how disturbingly—and unfairly—handsome he looks, but he can’t know that, so you play it off that you’ve danced one too many songs and need a moment to collect yourself.

“Think the plan is working?” He muses, leaning over to sip at your glass. “Think we’ve fooled enough people so grandma over there can stop clutching her pearls asking if you’ve accepted your spinsterhood?”

Honestly, the whole fake dating thing isn’t as bad as you initially thought. Eddie’s been ever the gentleman, holding open doors, holding your hand, holding the side of your hip. It’s great for the optical illusion you’re trying to portray, but it’s terrible for the ever painful kick-thump throb of your heart in your chest.

“Why? You wanna get out of here?” You likely can. You’ve stayed for the ceremony, most of dinner. You’ve even danced with Eddie a bit on the dance floor, introduced him to a few of your college friends, let him press a kiss to your cheek during the ‘couple’s dance’ after he’d suggested you try on the lips and you nearly broke an ankle, tripping up in your movements from the mere suggestion of doing something so insane. “We could always head back to the hotel room?”

Oh—and therein lay the other problem aside from your cardiovascular symptoms as a direct result of Eddie’s proximity: the hotel reservation somehow got all mixed up and you only afforded yourselves one bed.

One.

Singular.

Eddie had reassured the front desk employee that it was no issue, but you’d slapped your card onto the countertop and asked—admittedly pleaded—if they could check again for another room. It was with pitying gazes that they advised, because of the wedding, all the other available rooms were full. Which left you and Eddie with a king size bed for the night.

“It’s fine,” Eddie had teased, tossing pillows down the center of the bed after both tossed all of your things onto the floor. “Here’s our bundling board. You better not try to jump my bones in my sleep now.”

The thought itself has your thighs sliding together, mind swimming as your friend’s ring clad fingers trail against your forearm, drawing you back to reality. You turn with a ‘huh,’ your eyes meeting his as he says, “I’m fine with that if y—”

You’re interrupted by the sound of Clarissa, your ex’s new bride, calling your name from another table away. You’ve been friends with her for years, studied in the same program for your undergrad degree, and remained as such even after she came to you one day in the library and asked if it would be okay to date Jared. And it was; you’d been broken up for some months, anyway, after all. All adults who could handle weird circumstances.

Just like right now, as Jared joins his new bride’s side and extends a hand to greet Eddie. “Is this the guy that swept our friend here off her feet? Nice to meet you…”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, reaching over to grasp Jared’s hand and shake it. He’s just as charming when Clarissa leans down and urges you both forward in tight hugs, giggling brightly over how nice the two of you look and blushing when Eddie speaks again saying, “You look beautiful. Congrats, you two.”

“Congrats you two,” Clarissa practically trills, clapping excitedly. She mouths over Eddie’s shoulder, “He’s gorgeous.”

You can only pathetically shrug in agreement before Jared’s asking how the two of you met and Eddie tugs you so close to him you’re practically sitting on his lap. Your hand manages to grip his thigh to steady yourself when your chair wobbles, and his palm swallows yours upon doing so. He lifts it up to his mouth to brush a gentle kiss against the back of it. Your skin bursts to life with a thousand bubbles dancing along your skin, though you chalk it up to the champagne buzzing in your system.

Heat coils again as he turns to look at you, brown eyes fathomless as he says, “Back in high school. She walked into first period math class and she waved at me and I knew it was all over after that. But we only recently realized we wanted to be more than friends; figured it was about time to take a chance. Best choice I’ve made in a long time, really. Now we’re inseparable. Unbreakable. Insatiable—”

You elbow him slightly, cutting his words off. “Insatiable, Ed?”

Clarissa and Jared are none the wiser. The both of them only lean into one another, Clarissa glowing with her bridal beauty and Jared looking like he’s fallen in love with her all over again as Eddie regales them with your fake relationship origin story.

“Can you act like you actually like me?” He grumbles near your temple, that palm curling around your hip again to draw you even closer. Heat coils in your belly once more as that mouth drops lower, hot breath fanning along the shell of your ear, his voice a husk of, “Relax. I won’t bite…unless you’re into that.”

So, maybe you can’t swallow the breathy sigh that punches its way up your throat. And maybe your thighs clench beneath the table. But they’re all mere side effects to the man hypnotizing everyone around him with his charm, casualties of the battle waging war behind your ribcage. Even so, the damage is done; the carnage remaining in the wake of your inner turmoil is evident in the slow curl of his lips, the proud smirk lining those presently devilish features.

He’s thoroughly enjoying himself—enjoying the effects his presence has on you, even under the guise of pretending you’re something you’re not. So if your eyes roll in your skull when he leans down and presses a barely-there kiss beneath your ear, it’s only because he’s really wonderful at the elaborate facade you’ve both concocted.

It’s only because, over the years of being DM, he’s perfected the art of performance.

It’s that and nothing more.

Call the casual touches and flirting throughout the night side effects of a few glasses of champagne and loosened inhibitions. Call the glances across the dance floor nothing more than intrigue and longing for a ‘what if?’ Call the brush of his fingers against your skin, the press of lips, the hand on your hip nothing more than part of an act. Because that’s all it is.

Or so you think and have conditioned yourself to think.

But that tension lingers long after Clarissa and Jared wish you well. It lingers in the breaths filling the elevator on your way back to the room, it seeps into the pauses in your conversation. It grows and curls like a bowstring in your belly, drawn tight when Eddie slides the key into your hotel room door and pushes it open.

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I would have thought you were flirting with me earlier,” you hum, a casual laugh breaking into the otherwise quiet of your newfound privacy with the man, toeing off your heels near the door. “And the little speech about how we started ‘dating’ was really convincing. Either that or you should reconsider a career in acting.”

“What if I was, though?” His voice is soft. Softer than it’s been all night, a tremulous breath that makes your stomach clench. “Flirting with you, I mean.”

Before you, you can see two options laid out on a platter: you push into unknown territory, a world of possibility should you choose to open your heart to him; or, you brush his affection aside and preserve what you already have, not wishing to disrupt the balance of your life as you know it.

Eddie is friends with your friends.

You’re friends with his friends.

When lines become blurry, relationships are put at risk. Sides might need to be taken. There are other people involved outside of the two of you. But a louder thought rings true. An understanding that it’s Eddie. Eddie, who has only ever put your own needs above his. Always first. Wanted what was best for you at all times. Would it, then, be such a terrible thing to be selfish just this once?

“If you were…” you begin, stepping across the room to meet him where he stands. Your fingers trail up to his tie, the dark red material like blood sifting through your fingers, “did you mean it? The story too?”

“Since first period math class senior year—well, your senior year. My first senior year.” He chuckles uneasily, palm moving to slide over the span of his shoulder, easing at a knot. Watches you slide your fingers up along the fabric, moving up to help loosen the knot around his neck. You fumble with it for a moment, his breath spilling across your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth when he rasps out, “Can I kiss you?”

And you’re nodding your head rapidly, gasping as his hand slides up to rest against the small of your back, guiding your frame closer to him. You practically ooze into his chest, bodies warm and humming with anticipation as he walks you backward over toward the bed and groans into your bottom lip presently pinched between his teeth as you tug at his tie and drag him into the cradle of your thighs down to where you lay in a sprawl of limbs against the mattress.

“Oh…” He pauses in his ministrations, breaking apart with a gasp despite your whines of protest to run a palm along the mattress. You flop down onto your back as the man presses the same palm against the topper, watching it shift and move beneath his weight. “Oh this is nice. Much better than my shitty one back home.”

“Eddie…” His head jolts back your way, as if he remembers you’re lying beneath him, waiting for him to help you out of your dress, and drops a kiss down against the curve of your neck. You hum to yourself and grasp his chin, dragging his mouth near to yours. He brushes your lips once, twice, and you tell him, panting, “I really like you, Eddie.”

He sighs as your hands finally help free the tie from around his neck and you toss the fabric into the far corner of the room, fingers dropping down to start working on the line of buttons down his chest inch by inch until you’re met with dark ink and a trail of hair against the bump of his stomach that disappears into his waistband and has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his exposed sternum. Beneath you can feel the rapid thrum of his heart, can taste the salt on his skin, flesh still warm from all your dancing in the wedding hall.

He’s climbing over to the top of the bed, bringing you with him, and rearranging the two of you so you can lay side by side. One of his palms starts a gentle slide up your back to grasp at the zipper pulled all the way to your neckline. His eyes implore yours briefly, a gentle exchange with no words, and your head dips. The sound of the metal dragging down your spine reaches your ears, fabric soon pooling around your ankle before he’s tossing it over onto the far corner of his room with the rest of both your clothes.

You take a moment to look at one another. Eyes roving across skin, fingers following in their wake. He trails his fingers along your shoulder, down the path of your sternum, swirls a circle around the soft skin of your abdomen until your sides shake with laughter. You watch those exhausted eyes of his trail along the curve of your hip, the bend of your knee, the crux between your thighs. Nearly gasp into his collar bone when he hikes a thigh over his hip and draws you in for another kiss, and you can feel the hot press of him briefly—albeit too briefly—against your center.

Those kisses, burning with a fresh fervor, draw breathless sighs from your lips. His words against your skin, telling you how beautiful you are, how he’s wanted this moment, how he wants to watch you fall apart against his fingers when he asks if he can touch you have you mewling with want, shuddering at the first brush of his fingers through your slick, warm and welcome between your thighs.

But it’s in that languid exploration that the two of you start to slow down, champagne bubbles that still linger in both your bellies making your eyes more and more tired with each passing moment, fingers becoming gentler, lingering longer. He sighs when you lean over to brush a kiss against his throat and suck, but it settles in the air and you can’t help the airy giggle that spills from your lips when one of his hands waves lackadaisical in the air as you ask, “Falling asleep on me, Munson?”

“No—no,” he groans. He presses a gentle kiss to your throat, and feels your pulse skitter beneath your skin. “Jus’ g’me a second. Wanna make you feel good.”

It’s a shame, a sin really, how even in his tired, partially blissed out state, Eddie Munson still has the power to make your insides liquify. Especially when those eyes start to flutter as he tries to focus his attention on you, lashes lingering longer and longer against the tops of his cheekbones in his efforts to stay awake.

With one last press of your mouth against his, you slide off the bed and help yank down the comforter enough so he can crawl inside, sleepy sighs spilling from his tattooed chest. Satisfied, you clamber in beside him and smile to yourself as that same chest aligns against your spine, arm looping low around your waist, and you both drift into a slumber.

It’s early when you wake again. Sunlight starts to filter in through the windows, the clock to your left reading seven in the morning. Luckily, it’s a Saturday and your check out time isn’t until eleven, which means more than enough room to shower and get ready to head back home to Hawkins. You’re about to clamber out of bed when you feel Eddie’s hand against your stomach shift. Butterflies burst to life at the gentle caress of his skin against yours, fluttering away only seconds later when the man in question grumbles, “Oh shit. Oh shit, sweetheart. I fell asleep.”

“You did,” you giggle, your calf brushing along the hairs lining his own. He groans, face pressing between your shoulder blade, hips flush against your ass and you continue, “It’s okay, though. You were tired.”

“We were…and I was…shit.” He huffs against your skin, hooking his chin over your shoulder to then brush a kiss against the plushness of your cheek. Then once more in that space beneath your ear that has you shuddering against him.

He starts a slow path along the side of your neck, laving kiss after kiss into your flesh, trailing down your shoulder. He starts to mark his way back upward, igniting every inch of you with a fresh fire when you gasp out, “We, ahh—mmm—still have a few hours before we need to leave.”

For emphasis, to really drive home your wishes in the moment, you slide your thigh up and over his, your hips moving backward to press needily against where you know he’s hard already. Those talented hands of his that strum along his guitar at the countless Corroded Coffin shows you’ve been to begin to work a slow path up your thigh, calluses tantalizing against skin. You push back harder against him, feeling his returning roll of hips against your ass, seeking out friction, craving release. But you have all morning.

You have time for the gentle slide of his fingers down the front waistband of your panties, the whine you release as his middle finger parts your center from entrance to clit, drawing out three slow circles that have you nearly begging him to fuck you right then and there. Still, he’s patient. Takes his time stroking against your center, listening as you coach him through what feels good, telling him to speed up, slow down. His other hand, not occupied with drawing out your pleasure, grips yours and slides it against the pillow nearest your head, a chuckle spilling from his lips when your head turns and you whimper into your pillow, asking him for what you need.

“What did you just say, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your bare shoulder, hissing when your hips push back into his hardened cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“Mmm—” He slides a finger inside you, drawing a slow circle, opening you around the digit before adding another. He repeats the question, low and sensuous in your ear, a purr that has your eyes pinching shut. “Want you inside me, Ed. Want you, want—”

Those fingers at your center slip from you, your chest heaving as he reaches over onto the nightstand nearest to his side of the bed and fishes out a blessed foil packet. You hear him hastily tear it open, the bed shifting and dipping in his efforts, before he’s pressing his chest back along your spine and hiking your thigh up and over his. The hand previously holding yours against the pillow above you slides back into your own, and your vision blurs out around the edges as he pushes your panties aside and drags himself through your folds from behind, catching on your clit, before slipping inside.

Your mingling hisses at the initial stretch of him turn into quiet moans as he starts to pick up his pace. He pastes sticky kiss after sticky kiss into your shoulder as that hand of his moves around to slide against your throat, shifting your head up and away from the pillow you’ve buried it within. Your eyes meet his, and between the constant roll of his hips as he moves within you, the fingers splaying across your neck, and the words he babbles into your lips about how tight you are, how good you feel, how you’re doing so good for him, it all quickly become too much.

He catches the flicker across your features, the way your sounds pick up in frequency, the rasp of your breath through your lungs. Against your lips he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. Touch yourself for me, okay? Wanna watch you.”

And you’re quick to do as your told, palm sliding down your stomach until two fingers meet your clit, rubbing in the way you know you like, matching the frantic pace of Eddie’s hips, pulling back and then slamming into you again and again, driving you closer and closer to utter bliss.

“Oh—fuck—I’m so close, baby.” His fingers around your neck tighten, lips pressing against the corner of yours as you work yourself in tandem with him, the sound of skin slapping together muffling the cries spilling through your parted lips. “Tell me you’re close.”

You come before him, nails pressing down to etch crescents into the hand holding yours above your head, murmuring his name over and over again like a prayer as his lips claim yours once more and swallow the moan he lets out as his body jerks a few times and then stills behind you, shallow breaths puffing hot and frantic into your kiss.

When you both finally catch your breath, and you roll over and turn into him, he pulls you close to his chest and grins into your shoulder, asking, “What are you doing next weekend?”

And it’s that next weekend, at Jonathan and Nancy’s wedding, that you go as a real couple this time.

You don’t even give Max and Lucas shit for giving you a thumbs up when they think Eddie isn’t looking.

(protect myself from readmore)

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanficton #eddie munson fluff #luna’s words #lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙

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loveinhawkins · 10 months

Text

Once they’re far enough away from Angry Hicks Land, Erica rifles through the supplies before finding the bag she’s looking for. She throws it at Eddie, only for him to immediately fumble the catch.

“Wow,” she says. “You’d be immediately kicked off the basketball team.”

“Uh, my talents don’t exactly lie on the basketball court,” Eddie says—his tone is dry but his face is slightly flushed in embarrassment.

“Huh,” Erica says. “Guess Lucas is multi-talented.”

Steve chuckles in approval from the driver’s seat—hopefully not too loudly; yeah, she’d defend her brother to the hilt, but she doesn’t want to get too ridiculous and actually have him overhear her.

Thankfully he seems in a world of his own, sat with Max and Dustin at the back of the RV. His eyes keep flickering over Max and her Walkman headphones.

He’s frowning. He’s been doing that a lot—Erica’s sure he’s had a permanent crease in the middle of his forehead since the year began, probably before then, too.

She wants to iron it out. Doesn’t quite know how to.

The bag rustles as Eddie opens it up. “Um. What’s in—?”

“Essentials,” Erica says.

Eddie blinks. “Sinclair, this is a belt.”

“Your jeans are very sad,” Erica tells him pityingly.

Steve cackles. Eddie’s blush deepens, and he jabs the back of the driver’s seat with his elbow.

“You having fun over there, Harrington?”

“Oh, tons,” Steve says.

Erica laughs. Eddie sticks his tongue out at her.

Once they’re parked outside, she half-loses track of him while correcting Lucas’s abysmal attempt at spear-making. He’s there in the corner of her eye, rough-housing with Dustin, but her thoughts turn vague and distant as she double knots the rope.

A little while later, she’s lying on her back, stretched out in the grass. She can faintly hear Lucas and Max having an arm wrestling match, Dustin providing old-timey sports commentary.

A shadow falls over her.

Erica sits up.

Eddie’s standing there with his hands on his hips. He’s wearing the bullet belt, the metal glinting in the sun.

“Whaddya think?” he says.

Before she can reply, he actually does a full-blown twirl, and it’s maybe one of the most embarrassing things she’s ever seen—which is definitely saying something.

She can’t help the fond smile from breaking out as she rolls her eyes. “Well, at least you’re dressed for the part.”

“Coming from you, Lady Applejack, that’s the highest of compliments.”

Eddie flops down next to her. He leans across and picks up something: her spear. She’d actually forgotten about it, just for a moment.

“Not quite a kukri, huh?”

It’s meant to be a joke, Erica can tell—but she can still hear the tension in his voice. He tosses the spear aside.

A sinking feeling she’s been pushing back makes itself known again; she wishes this was all just a game.

Eddie’s eyes are unfocused, like he’s thinking something similar.

Erica nudges him. “What’s up?”

He shrugs. “Just thinkin’, Sinclair.”

“Hmm. Seems rare for you.”

Eddie snorts. “Shut up. S’just…” He sobers. “Had this whole… plan. I forgot.”

“About?”

A smile. “You. You were gonna, uh. Be it. If you wanted.”

Erica raises an eyebrow.

“Um. The, uh… the leader of Hellfire.”

Eddie’s fingers drum nervously on his knees. Erica takes pity on him.

“You do know I’m eleven, right?”

“Trust me, I’m painfully aware,” Eddie says with a fleeting grin. “Your introduction is seared into my memory goddamn permanently. No, I was gonna… there’d be stand-ins till you got to high school, like whoever wanted to try out… And you’d be the official, uh—”

“Next in line for the throne?” Erica says wryly.

Eddie laughs, but it’s short-lived—he soon turns thoughtful again.

“Sure. Now I’m thinking, what, eleven, twelve…” He counts on his fingers. “Yeah. By the time you start high school, maybe that’s just enough time for people to not lose their minds about…” He smiles weakly. “Hey, maybe don’t call it Hellfire under your reign.”

“Oh, so you think I’m chickenshit,” Erica says.

“No,” Eddie says softly, and suddenly he’s not half-joking; he sounds deadly serious. “Just don’t want you to—y’know, be mixed up with…” He trails off.

Erica’s not told him about what happened at the town hall, but from the way he’s talking she suspects he knows at least a little.

She wants to be able to snark back at him, you really think Hawkins will still be talking about you years later? Please, you’re not that important.

But the thing is, she can’t know that for sure. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen next.

And that scares her.

Something else mixes with the sinking feeling in her stomach. It’s cold and unstoppable: the righteous fury she felt in the hall, as grown adults condemned a boy they did not know, when she’d figured out within barely five minutes of meeting him that he was all bark and no bite.

“Was gonna give you an open invite to Hellfire, anyway,” Eddie’s saying—almost under his breath, as he twists blades of grass around his fingers. “Like, just whenever you could make a session. I was gonna ask you, obviously, but… Was gonna write up, like, solo adventures your character could be part of whenever you couldn’t come. Same for Lucas, if he—”

“Okay, did you actually tell Lucas that?” Erica asks knowingly. “Or did you just think it?”

Eddie shifts guiltily.

“You need to tell him,” Erica says—remembering the week before Christmas that she’d accidentally broken his mug; they’d fought, and Lucas had eventually slunk into her room, somehow convinced that he’d been completely at fault. “Otherwise he just gets all quiet and thinks he’s done something wrong.”

“Noted,” Eddie says quietly. Contrite.

He looks off into the distance at the ongoing arm wrestling match and sighs; falling onto his back, an arm flung over his eyes, he says, “Thought I had all of Spring Break to figure shit out.”

“And what’re you doing right now?” Erica says pointedly. “Get planning, Eddie The Banished.”

Eddie huffs. Smiles. “Okay, okay.”

He lapses into silence. It makes Erica think that he isn’t just dwelling on ideas for a campaign. There’s a crease between his eyes—and maybe it’s a different kind of frown than the one Lucas wears, but it’s a frown all the same.

She gives him a moment, then pulls out a blade of grass and pokes him in the cheek with it.

He lifts his arm off his face. “Hmm?”

Erica holds out her hand. “I’m making the arrangement official.”

“The arrange—oh.”

Eddie sits up, blinks, blinks, blinks.

Oh, honestly, Erica thinks. He’s one of the most soft-hearted people she’s ever met.

She waits until he takes her hand before saying firmly, “To the future of Hellfire.”

Eddie smiles again, and his lips shake just a little at the edges. “The future of Hellfire,” he murmurs.

They shake on it.

“Seems like a fair trade,” Erica adds. “You get a belt, I get your club.”

Eddie laughs, puts an arm around her shoulders and squeezes.

“Erica Sinclair,” he says, eyes bright with affection. “I’d give you the whole goddamn world, if I could.”

#erica sinclair fic #eddie and erica #lucas and erica #eddie and erica fic #eddie munson fic #eddie and erica ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #a tiny hint of pre steddie #erica sinclair #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #eddie and lucas #erica sinclair ficlet

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charlessainzz · 1 month

Note

Ellooo

I saw your recs were opennnnn

So i uave a request for cluless non-fan reader who attends a race for whatever reason and doesnt know anyone

Driver falls in love with them at first meet/sight

Like idk he saw them being all cute or something from afar or they bump into eachother or reader has to follow a friend whose a huge fan so they kinda look like a lost puppy following their friend around and driver finds them intriguing

Idk u can come up with that bit

But yeah basically clueless reader and driver

Idk which driver

Maybe max or lewis or oscar or even danny

But u can choose anyone ig

I just wanted some fluff cause why not

Thank u sm✨

I love ur writing🫶

thank you for the request!!! appreciate the love, and hope this is what you were looking for :)

Lost and Found

Could it have been any more of a cliche?

Here you were at the Miami Grand Prix lost and wandering around. And where do you find yourself? In the McLaren garage. How? You had no idea. You always seemed to get yourself into the predicaments.

Truth be told, you weren’t very interested in Formula 1. But your friends had an extra ticket so why not get a little tipsy and watch some race cars?

You had been walking with your friends when you decided to make a quick pit stop at the bathrooms. They said they’d wait for you but spoiler alert they didn’t. So here you were looking around the paddock for 3 blondes in Miami, you’d probably never find them!

Thinking you see one of your friends you begin shouting out to her as she entires the building wrapped in papaya orange. As you walk further into the building you can hear the machines and shouting men. That’s when you see the car. It wouldn’t hurt to get closer look. It’d give you something to brag about!

“Can I help you?”, a soft voice said behind you.

You whip your whole body around, “Oh! I got a little lost and was just admiring the car…” you say as your eyes meet his big brown ones. Your face going instantly red, you divert your eyes hoping he won’t see how flustered you are.

“It’s a nice car right?”, he says with a laugh. “We added some updates that’ll hopefully take us to RedBulls level but we’ll see”, he rambles.

You nod aggressively and say, “Never seen anything like it, very shiny!”. As you begin reaching out touch the tail end.

“Wait! No!”, he shouts and pulls you into him. “Unless you want hundreds of dollars worth of fines, I would not do that,” he says with a worried look. That’s when you realize you’re both caught up in each others arms.

Clearing your throat, you take a step back. “You seem to be very knowledgeable about all this stuff…” you say as you look around the garage.

He looks at you and begins to laugh, “you could say I’m somewhat of an expert”.

“I had a feeling. So are you a mechanic or pit crew?” you ask with sincerity.

His eyes light up at your question. Just as he’s about to answer another person calls out to him, “Oscar! Time to get in the car!”.

He begins to zip up his race suit. “You should hang around for the race and see why I’m such an expert in this stuff”, he says as he brushes his hands through his hair.

You look around the garage and find the guy who saved you from a million fines face plastered all over the walls. Oscar Piastri. Oh shit, he’s one of the drivers.

“What happens if I continue to hang around even after the race?” you ask with a smirk.

“Well then I might just have to take out to celebrate my win”, he slyly replies.

You cock your head as you eye him up and down. “Hmm…. sounds like a plan” you reply. “Don’t take too long then, I might get lost again.”

He starts laughing as he tugs his helmet on. “I’ll be back in no time”, he says with a wink and closes his visor.

Maybe your friends ditching you wasn’t so bad after all. A date with a Formula 1 driver, definitely something to brag about.

#f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 fic #oscar piastri x reader #f1 requests open #f1 x you #oscar piastri #f1 x y/n #anon request #mclaren #oscar piastri fluff

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miniwheat77 · 10 months

Text

Honey. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, porn without plot, kinda short I just felt like writing Smut lol, (sorry if I missed any.)

Captain Price is a listener.

He’s quiet when he moves around the base, awake early, up late. He hears every little thing on base. Always.

His newest thing that he thought was funny to listen to? Is hearing the men on base make their advances toward you. Just to get rejected. You were new on base and you were a lot younger than the rest. But you were an excellent shot with a sniper. You’d made friends with a couple guys on base. You didn’t know it, but they had a bet on you. Who would ‘hit it’ first. The only thing Captain Price doesn’t think they’d anticipate is that the bet had been going on for months, and you showed no interest. He could tell it drove them crazy and he thought it was funny. You were a sweet girl. He didn’t think you’d fall for any of the dumb things they had planned for you.

One day during chores, Captain Price happened to be checking on you and another one of the girls on base, someone he’d noticed you making friends with. He listened in on your conversation for a few minutes. Pausing and leaning up against the wall by the cracked door. “You know they have a bet going on you right?” He hears the girl laugh. Her name was Maxine but everyone called her Max. “Oh I know. I’m not stupid.” He can hear the smile in your voice. So you were a little sly, cute. “You got your eye on anyone?” Max asks you. “I.. I mean I guess so but I can’t tell you who.” You laugh. “Oh come on. Who is it?” He hears you giggle, you’re blushing. “I’m serious, I can’t tell.”

“So it’s someone important?” She teases. “Is it.. Ghost? Soap?” She asks. “No, no.” You laugh.

“Higher up than that?” She asks. She thinks for a second. “No way! You like our Captain?” She laughs, clapping her hands together. “Oh my god Max, shut up.” You blush. “No fucking way. You slut. He’s so much older than you.” She teases further. “That’s kind’ve the idea. When have men the same age as you ever been satisfying?” You groan. “True. True.”

“Damn. This whole time I thought there was some other reason you kept rejecting everyone else on base, I even seen Kyle giving you googly eyes.” She laughs. “I mean.. Captain Price?” She teases. “Max stop itttt.” He can tell you’re covering your face in embarrassment. “What about you hm?” You ask. This is where Captain Price decides to make himself noticeable. He takes one loud step up onto the metal staircase and you both look to the doorway as he comes into view. “Hello girls.” He smiles. Max has a wide smile on her face and you look like a child who got caught doing something they shouldn’t have been. “Uh.. hi Captain.” You smile. “Working hard I hope.” He smiles, crossing his arms. “About as hard as you can work watching a screen.” You smile. He laughs. “True. Oh yeah, Y/N. Do you mind staying on the next watch too? I assigned Soap to something else.” You nod your head. “Yeah. No problem.” You smile. “Awesome. I think Gaz needed some help in the mess hall when you’re done too.” He looks to Max. She nods. “Thank you for letting me know Captain.”

He makes his way back down the stairs, cock painfully hard from what he’s just heard.

A couple hours later, after he’s talked to Soap about picking up one of your chores, he makes his way up into the watch tower where you had been for a few hours. He closes and locks the door behind himself, it was getting dark. “Captain, what are you doing?” You ask. “Oh, I’m usually on watch with Soap.” He smiles. You’ve got your legs propped up into the other chair. He grasps hold of your ankles, lifting them up, sitting down and propping them back up onto his lap. He sees the way you blush immediately at the action. “Anything exciting happen?” He asks. “Ah. I seen Ghost run from a bee but I figured he’d have my head if I showed anyone else.” Captain Price laughs. “You’re absolutely right sweetheart.” He slowly starts rubbing your ankle. Moving higher and higher on your calf as he talks to you about anything and everything. “So. I heard a couple guys talking about you the other day.”

“Oh dear.” You mumble. “Yeah, since you’ve been on base, all I ever hear them talk about is you. Drives me fucking nuts.” He laughs. “Well.. I’m sorry.” You mumble, a shy smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault, I think they’re just not used to being around women.” He laughs. “Yeah. I hear some of the stuff they say too. Kind’ve makes me uneasy.” You laugh. “They wouldn’t do anything to you. I’d make them disappear and they know it.” He pats your knee with his hand. He hears you gulp. Your stomach swirls a little bit, heat pooling between your legs. He’d be willing to do that? For you? “You’d do that for me?” You smile. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, spreading his legs further apart. “Honey, I’d move heaven and earth if something ever happened to you.” He smiles. “Especially on my base, on my watch.” He crosses his arms, looking up at the camera screen. He can see you starting to squirm. Captain Price would do it for any of his soldiers. But right now? He’s focused on you. Watching out of his peripheral vision as you squirm.

“So. If they bug you all of the time, why haven’t you given into their advances?” He asks. “Oh.. I’m just not interested.” You mumble. “A-and the rules of course. No dating and stuff you know?” You mumble. The way he says it, unsettles your stomach a bit. “You say that like I’m some kind of.. slut or something.” You laugh nervously, he finally turns to look at you. “I didn’t mean it like that, honey. I don’t think you’re a slut. Not for them anyways.” He smiles. Looking at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” You try to pull your legs back away from him but he grips you hard. “Just my slut, right?” He smiles. Hand climbing higher on your leg. You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “Heard your little conversation earlier.” He smiles. Your cheeks feel like they light on fire immediately. Crimson creeping up your face and onto your earlobes. He can see it right away. “No need to panic sweetheart.” He pushes his hand up the inner part of your thigh and you freeze up, taking in a sharp breath, “Captain.” You whimper, breathlessly. He’s already got you hot and bothered and he hasn’t even done anything yet. He chuckles, it’s taunting and you want to kick yourself for looking so pathetic in front of him like this. A small moan leaves your lips when he pulls you close, spreading your legs over his thighs. You’re in front of him now. Gripping the bottom of the chair you’re sitting on. He pushes his hand up between your legs, rubbing his finger over the seam of your cargo pants. You’re panting as he does it.

“Such a mess for me huh?” He breathes. Smirk on his lips. Your lips are slightly parted and you desperately want more from him. “Still have another couple hours up here sweetheart. Why don’t you take your pants off and sit in my lap hm?” He smirks. You swallow hard with a nod. Praying this isn’t some kind of sick trick. You stand up, unbuttoning and unzipping your cargo pants nervously as he watches. He unzips his own, sliding his cock through the hole and groaning as he pumps his cock. You swallow hard at the size of him.

You know for sure you’ll wake up from this dream soon. There’s no way in hell this is real. When you step out of your cargo pants, he reaches out. Grasping the back of your thigh and bringing you into him. Into his lap. You’ve still got panties on but he’s pushes them to the side, rubbing his fingers over your soaked entrance. A gasp leaves your lips when he touches you. “Oh g-god.” You whimper as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes your shirt up and holds on tight to your hips, guiding you down into his cock. He knows he should’ve prepped you more, but he can’t help it. He needs this. He groans out as you slide down onto him further. When your thighs are flush with his, they’re shivering slightly. “Fuck honey- so fucking tight.” He grits his teeth. He cups your thighs and lifts you up onto him, his strength takes you a little off guard as he uses you to pleasure himself. A whimper leaves your lips and you reach to clutch the back of the chair. “C-Captain.” You moan. He smirks at this.

You grasp the back of the chair with both hands, beginning to ride his cock, lifting yourself off of him and sliding back down. He relaxes himself, tilting his head back with a moan. His hat almost slides off and he catches it, setting it on top of your head and adjusting it more. “There you go sweet girl.” He smiles. “Next you’ll be wearing my shirts and nothing else.” He chuckles, wrapping a hand around you and standing up with you still on his cock. He sets you down on the countertop, shoving the keyboard to the side. He grips your ankles with his hands, beginning to thrust into you. You clutch the countertop hard, knuckles turning white as he fucks into you. He’s strong, he makes you feel small no matter what. He’s your Captain, and you’ll know that forever. He grasps hold of your hip with one hand, using his other to rub quick circles over your clit. He’s watching his cock disappear into you. He moves his hand for a second to spit on the base of his cock, thrusting back into you. You’re watching with wide eyes. “Something wrong?” He asks, clutching his shirt and pulling it back tighter. “N-no. Just thought that was really hot.” You mumble. He laughs. “So sweet.” He mumbles, returning his hand to rub circles into your clit. “Such a good girl, letting me fuck this slutty pussy.” He groans

He can feel you getting tighter around him, your moans getting more frequent. Your eyes are clenched shut and he can see how tight you’re holding on. Maybe he’s being a little too rough but he can’t help it. You feel too good. He moves you closer to him again. “How does it feel to get fucked by a real man? None of those pathetic little boys begging to be inside this pussy.” He smirks. “It feels so good, please don’t stop. P-please.” You whimper. He laughs at your desperation. “They wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. So needy. Now cum for me.” He growls. He hits that sweet spongy spot inside of you directly and you fall apart. You’re about to cry out when he smashes his lips against yours, kissing you so hard your teeth knock into each other. His high is coming too, but he’s savoring it. Trying to spend as much time as possible inside you. He grips your shirt tightly, hips hammering into yours and the countertop is digging into your thighs but you wouldn’t stop him. He feels amazing inside of you. “Where do you want it hm?” He smiles. “Inside- please cum inside me Captain!” A deep laugh leaves his lips when you say those magic words. He clutches the collar of your shirt, pulling you into him. He kisses you again when he finally reaches his high. He moans into you, and you gasp into his lips as you feel his warmth filling you. His thrusts halt and he pulls away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his and he reaches up to wipe it away. You lick your lips and that’s when he knows.

You’re the perfect girl.

He smiles, resting his hands on the sides of the countertop. “Sorry if I was rough sweetheart. You’re just.. a fucking temptress.” He tries to readjust his vest, sliding out of you with a groan. He watches his filth seep back out of your weeping hole. Smiling at the work he’s done. He helps you down, smiling at the way you wobble slightly. “Gonna have to wash these now.” He laughs. Seeing the wet stains you’ve left around his zipper. Your cheeks burn once again. He loves how easy it is for him to frustrate you like that.

—

Max noticed your longing stares at him. She knows this is worse than before. You barely eat, don’t sleep too well. You’re snappy and grouchy and just plain mean sometimes. Anytime a guy tries to talk to you, you ignore them. Shrugging them off and avoiding them at all costs. You hate that he hasn’t said much to you after that night up in the watch tower. It drives you crazy that you like him this much. Maybe he was under the impression it was a one time thing. These feelings you have, they’re not lust, you like him. You want more than sex from him. How he didn’t see it frustrates you to no end. He notices the way you’re acting. Like a bratty girl who didn’t get her way and he doesn’t understand why. He’s oblivious to the way you feel.

You push through the crowd gathering in the mess hall and settle down. “Hey Y/N.” You see a guy sitting next to you and you roll your eyes with a groan. Captain Price is watching you with a grin. He can tell you’re about to snap. “You seem off lately, everything okay?” He asks. He’s only trying to be nice so that he can fuck you, he’s got a bet on it. “Why? You wanna bet on that too?” You look at him. His eyes widen. “If you were ever curious why women don’t like you, look a little closer to home.” You growl. “Y/N.” His voice makes you go rigid. “Can I speak with you, please?” He asks. You nod your head, standing up from the table and following him down the hall. He leads you all the way down the hall into his room. “What? What are we doing in here?”

He laughs, crossing his arms. “You, my dear. Are going to put this on.” He passes you one of his shirts. “And take a nap.” He smiles. “What?” You look confused. He laughs. “I was worried for a second you were going to chew the poor kids face off. You’re sleepy and you’re acting like a brat.” He smiles. “No I’m not.” You roll your eyes, you try to shove passed him, but he pushes you back. “What’s this about ah?” He smirks, biting his lip. You hate how flirty he’s being. “You need more already? Is this you getting bratty because I haven’t fucked you?” He glides his hand up the valley between your legs, making you jump with a gasp. You look down, breaths getting harsher. “N-no. No.” You mumble, pushing his hand away from you. “Than what is it? Hm? Cmon baby.” He grasps your shirt, helping you pull it over your head. You let him, because you’re pathetic. He helps you remove your pants too. Sliding his shirt over your head and you pout, he doesn’t miss it. “Oh come on darling. You can talk to me.” He pulls you into him, feeling you bury your face into his chest as he hugs you. You’re relaxing into him and he’s already onto you.

He inhales the scent of your hair and sighs. “Come on. Lay down in my bed. I’ll tuck you in.” He breathes. He pulls his covers back and you crawl into his bed. The scent of it alone is throwing you into a daze. “You’re a brat.” He smirks. You narrow your eyes up at him. “No I’m not.” He laughs. “John.” You mumble. The use of his real name lets him know that this is serious. “I like you.” You look up at him. “I like you too.” He smiles. You sigh. “No.. I like you. A lot. I don’t want this to be.. a one time thing. I want to be with you.” You mumble. He smiles. “It doesn’t have to be, darling. But.. we’re stuck on this base for another few months before I can take you home with me.” He laughs. “You want to do that?” You ask. “Of course I do. But.. this is just the beginning alright?” You nod your head. “What does that mean?” You ask. “It means.. we keep it a secret, while on base of course. And.. when we get done here. We’ll figure it out from there.” You chew at your lip nervously. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks. You nod your head. He laughs. “Good. Because I want you to be mine. Our little secret for now.” He smiles, kissing you on the forehead.

“Now take a nap my brat.” He smiles.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #john price #price x reader

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vroomvroomcircuit · 2 months

Text

A never-ending Worry

(A/N): Ikea gave me a big anxiety attack the other day. Here we are now.

Summary: Reader discovers her own anxiety together with Max through several instances.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎 _____________________ Anxiety is a peculiar thing, especially when you suffer from it. It is for (Y/N) at least.

Ever since her first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 16 years, (Y/n) started to worry. About everything. All the damn time. Her head is running the whole time, thinking about different scenarios that could happen. Like her best friend once said:

“The possibility of a baby killing you is slim, but never zero.”

Maybe the possibilities for any of the “what ifs” really happening is low, but she will be prepared if it does happen. It’s an odd sense of safety she can find refuge in, especially in a world of unpredictability.

This is where the peculiarity comes into play. She does not have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe it all.

But (Y/N) never really talked about her constant worries coupled with a never ending feeling of nervousness. Never spoke of this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone feels like that, right?

“Hey Schatje? How many pairs of underwear have you packed for us?” Max called out for (Y/N) as he unpacked their suitcases, that his girlfriend herself packed for the two a couple of days before the trip even started.

A bit befuddled by his question, (Y/N) walks from the kitchen of the rental apartment, where she just finished putting away the groceries they got from their first run to the supermarket, to the bedroom.

“10 pairs for each of us. Do you think it won’t be enough? We can still go out and get some more tomorrow.” Max halts his movements for a second to check if her serious tone matches her face.

It does.

His girlfriend really means what she said.

“No, they will definitely suffice. You do know that we are here for only four days, right?” Max smiles at her. Maybe she just got something mixed up.

“Yes, of course. I planned our activities. It would be bad if I didn’t know about the length of our vacation.” She laughs to herself while moving to help Max unpacking. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, nothing particular. Just checking.” Ok so. It is a thing for many women to overpack, especially regarding their underwear. “Can you explain your thoughts on the number to me? Why did you decide to pack 20 pairs of underpants in total?”

(Y/N) throws him a look. “Well, we need at least four, one for each day. Then I doubled that number, because something could have gone wrong on our car ride here or will on our way back, making us stay on vacation longer. Then eight felt like it’s not enough. Adding to the extra days, an accident could happen that makes you need an extra pair a day, right? And nine is an odd number that is not even a prime number, so I rounded up to ten. Completely logical.”

Well, it’s logical to her at least. Max was partially amazed by her train of thoughts and worries. He just let it be like that. After all, it’s just over packing and he loves how prepared she is in any given situation.

Prepared (Y/N) is. Always.

“Man, it is so hot, my fingers are sticky with sweat.” Daniel complaints. It’s a race weekend in Singapore and the Aussie is right. It is hot.

(Y/N), who walks with Daniel around the paddock while she waits for Max to get out of a meeting, starts to rummage in her backpack. The back she carries with her all the time. It’s close to iconic.

“Here is some hand disinfectant. It makes you feel a bit less sticky.”

Daniel smiles thankfully while taking the little bottle from the female’s hands. “Thank you. I just need to remember to put on some lotion, I don’t want my hands to dry out.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, she replaces the disinfectant with another small bottle. “Don’t worry, I got you girl.” She winks at the Aussie.

“Oh wow, do you have everything important with you? Can you flee the country with that backpack spontaneously?” Daniel jokes, but it goes over her head.

“Yes, pretty much. I got a small first aid kit, my laptop and all needed chargers for my electronics. Oh, and my passport and IDs of course. Ah, and some small knick-knacks and snacks. Gotta be prepared for the worst case scenario, right?” Her seriousness unsettles something in the driver. But he kind of lets it go, just nodding to her statement. She is right, at least a bit, after all.

“Do you get more nervous when you get into the car? Or is your level of nervousness on the same level?

(Y/N) and Max cuddle in bed back in the safety of their home in Monaco. While asking the question in the wariness of the night, she traces the same shapes over and over again in her partner’s skin. It gives her an odd feeling of safety, the repetition.

Max has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?” “Well, does your level of feeling nervous rise from the usual one before or during a race?” It sounds plausible to her. But it doesn’t for him.

Max sits up, leaning his upper body against the headboard to have a better look at his girlfriend. “Yes, it does rise, because my usual level of nervousness is zero like for everyone else. Of course I feel different from that, when I get into the car that can bring me over the finish line as a winner. I don’t get the question.”

(Y/N) blinks at him with a frown. “Not- no, not everyone’s level is zero. It’s really just for you that low.” Of course Max is always cool as a cucumber. He only gets this feeling in extreme situations.

“Oh Schtaje. It’s really not. Most people don’t feel nervous often. Do you?” He pulled her close to him, enveloping her completely.

“Not always. Right now, I’m not. But that is, because I’m with you. I know that together we can solve anything.” Max senses that (Y/N) doesn’t want to continue the conversation. He lets it be another time, partially to not make her feel completely uncomfortable in a peaceful moment, partially because he wants to do some research.

Her conversation with her boyfriend sparked something inside (Y/N). Hearing that not everyone is feeling the same way she does, it’s a lot to take in. So she started to do some reading of her own.

Many people on the internet describe the same moments she has: Constant nervousness, the need of being prepared at all times or she’ll break out in a sweat, plus the endless worrying.

And the sudden bursts of intense panic. These moments, where an all consuming fear grips her whole body into a chokehold. That makes her breaths become heavier and her thoughts even faster.

Reading about similar experiences to hers, it makes (Y/N) feel less alone. But one word stood out to her.

Anxiety.

She heard of it and has seen the portrayals on TV. But those are not what she feels. Or is it?

Everything and nothing make sense at the same time.

“Do you want to drive?” Max offers as they get ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that is a tad too far away to be considered walkable distance. He regularly lets her drive, it’s a bit of emancipation. Why shouldn’t she drive when she has a license for that?

(Y/N) shakes her head no. “I don’t like today’s thoughts. I also feel extra nervous right now, I couldn’t find the menu of the restaurant online.” Max nods, understanding what kind of thoughts she is talking about - intrusive thoughts.

He also appreciates her openness with him about those feelings. “It’s ok, Schatje. I love driving for you, it’s my favorite kind of ride. We will also find something for you, we can order some dishes and share them until you decide which one you want.” He gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease up her worries.

During the drive, she holds his hand on the control stick. “It’s good to have you back. Last night I woke up in a panic and thought something must have happened to you on your flight and that this was the reason I had this huge anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep until you texted me this morning when you landed at the airport.”

His heart grows heavy at that confession. He hasn’t known the extent of her anxious feelings. Max didn’t know how much they overshadowed her in her daily life.

(Y/N) herself never realized how much she has been hindered in her routines by her own thoughts and worries.

“It wasn’t the first time this happened. But it was the worst it has been so far. I thought you died. I waited for my phone to ring or the police to stand at the door, getting notified that you died in a plane crash. I already planned the next steps I had to take from there in my head.” (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look at her boyfriend after this admission.

It is weird to say something out loud, that she used to bury deep inside of her. This kind of vulnerability, it makes her want to crawl back into that hole again.

Over the last couple of weeks she realized that those spiraling thoughts are not here to make her feel safe. That the need of over preparedness is not necessary. That her anxious feelings are not some signs of something bad.

These thoughts are false friends, waiting for your demise, your downfall, to be able to say “I told you so”.

But where to go from here, from the realization of something going gravely wrong, to getting a grip of the situation. To make it all go away?

Max squeezes her hand before putting a kiss on it without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m here for you. I want to hear all those thoughts. As silly as they may sound out loud. I can help you in differentiating if they are necessary, needed, thoughts or if they are the product of overthinking. I want to help you. I want you to not feel anxious all the time. I want to help you through the anxiety attacks. We can get counseling - for only you or together. Just, let me be here for you during every step you take.”

His pleading brings tears to (Y/N)’s eyes. She didn’t know how noticeable her anxiety issues were to outsiders. She doesn’t know what it feels like for Max, seeing her in her most anxious states.

“Yes”, she answers him, “I want you to be here with me. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.” “You don’t need to find out. I’ll be there, for better or for worse.”

Turns out, Max’ deadpan and brutal honesty is exactly what (Y/N) needs.

The evening, where he was away for a race and she had to stay behind, because of her own work schedule. (Y/N) called him in the middle of a not very pretty anxiety attack. “I have this doctor’s appointment. It’s a check-up for my physical health. And what if I-I’m deathly sick and we are catching onto that only now?”

“This is a dumb thought.”

The female halts in her movements. Is it a dumb thought?

“I mean, yes. I regularly go out to donate blood. But maybe they haven’t caught something important accidentally.”

“That is stupid and unlikely.”

She stops again. “You are right. I actually have nothing to worry about.”

The road to having less anxiety is a twisted one, paved by setbacks and a small gap between succeeding and failing. But with Max as a passenger princess on that path (Y/N) knows she got it.

She will be ok, eventually.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #x reader #reader insert #x you

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Note

For the requests: heard of hearing and/or partially blind Steve + his parents realizing. Maybe they come home & see how their house has changed to be more accessible for Steve? Or something like that.

HONESTLY THIS ONE HURTED. But as usual, you provide the quality shit!!!! Poor Steve, but also if it ain't hurt/comfort, then did I even write it? Everyone loves Steve. Except his parents. His parents suck. But everyone else? Angels. Hope you love it darling!!! - Mickala ❤️

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

Concussions were a bitch.

Multiple concussions in a three year period were a bitch.

But the worst part was when he noticed he couldn’t hear out of his left ear. Robin had been talking to him at work on his left side, whispering about some customer that was walking down every single aisle as if they didn’t know what movies were out, and he didn’t even notice until she switched sides halfway through a sentence.

He pretended it was fine, that he’d heard her the whole time, but then she asked him a question he couldn’t answer. She walked to his left side and said something, and when he shook his head, she bit her lip, fighting back tears.

“It’s okay, Robs. I can still hear out of the other one,” Steve said to comfort her, but also to comfort himself.

If he lost it in one ear, he could lose it in the other, and then what?

She tried to convince him to get a hearing aid, but he didn’t think he needed one.

“Your parents sent you money for medical expenses, use it for this!”

But he couldn’t.

And then he started getting blurry vision in both eyes. The left was rapidly growing worse, and Dustin noticed.

“Dude, you’re squinting. Do you have a migraine? You could’ve had Eddie drive me.”

“Nah, just tired. Trying to focus.”

Part of that was true. The squinting helped him focus a little, but he knew he had to do something about it.

So he sat down with Robin and came up with a plan.

He hated every fucking second of it.

“You get a scan first, we need to know if this is gonna keep getting worse or what permanent damage is there. You get glasses-“

“I might not need-“

“You get glasses. Then you get fitted for a hearing aid.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve rolled his eyes.

But looking back, he was grateful Robin made him do it.

The doctors had been amazed he was able to talk with the damage done.

“Will I lose my ability to talk?” He asked, realizing that not being able to hear, see, and talk was too much for him to deal with.

“I think we can work through some physical therapy type exercises to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’m glad you came in now and not a few years from now.”

Robin never said ‘I told you so,’ probably sensing that Steve wasn’t coping well with the news.

They told him he would most likely lose all hearing over the years, and his vision would progressively get worse, though it would most likely plateau and he wouldn’t lose it completely.

They said he needed to do vocal exercises every day, brain exercises as often as possible, and to come back the moment he recognized any change in his speech.

So he lived with the anxiety of not being able to communicate with anyone he loved every second of every day.

Dustin, Will, Mike, and Max had done research for weeks, finding things they could do to help him live in his house alone. Sure, they were there often, almost enough to be considered roommates, but that wouldn’t always be the case.

They would all grow up and leave.

Max had lost her own vision after Vecna, only able to see light and sometimes movement, but never any detail.

The day he got his glasses, she threatened him with murder if he didn’t wear them.

“The more you strain your eyes, the worse they’ll get. Wear the glasses. I’m sure you look just as cute as always.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, but he didn’t want to piss Max off, so he wore them all day every day.

Dustin had found a way to wire the doorbell to the lights in the whole house, so if it rang, and somehow Steve couldn’t hear, he’d see the lights flash three times from any room he was in.

He’d done something similar with the walkie, so Steve would know if someone was trying to communicate with him.

Will figured out a light system for the phone, where it flashed with green while it rang and red if he missed a call that went to their voicemail.

It only worked if he was in the kitchen, living room, or his bedroom and paying attention, but the thought behind it made him want to cry.

He got debilitating migraines frequently, which left him bedbound, unable to even get up to use the bathroom on his own sometimes.

They figured out a signal for his walkie that he could push the button in a sort of Morse code to make sure someone knew he needed help.

If he couldn’t get to his walkie for some reason, Dustin programmed buttons on all the phones: *1 called Robin, *2 called Eddie, and *3 called Dustin.

All of his meds were moved to the drawer by his bed, with a reminder note in every room of his house, just in case he forgot.

Which was apparently another thing he had to worry about: his memory.

The doctors seemed to think he would be okay if he stayed active and healthy otherwise, and definitely needed to avoid another concussion, but they did say he could notice some issues as he got older.

Mike looked up what vitamins he needed to help boost his memory and vision, and increased his iron intake to hopefully stave off some of the migraines before they even started. He put the instructions with his medication reminders all over the house.

But what surprised him most was what happened when his parents came home early on a random Thursday morning.

He was dealing with a bit of a migraine hangover, the day before being a blur of calling for help, reaching for his meds, and Eddie arriving to make sure he stayed hydrated and made it to the bathroom as needed.

Eddie was still here, in fact.

So when he heard them banging around downstairs, his eyes flew open and he looked at a still sleeping, very shirtless Eddie next to him in his bed.

Nothing happened obviously. Eddie just ran hot.

But his parents had already been questioning him a lot about not having a girlfriend in a while and hanging out with “queers” like those two things alone could make him gay.

And if they saw Eddie like this, they would make assumptions.

Assumptions that would get him kicked out of the house that everyone just worked so hard to make accessible for him.

So he got up as quickly, but quietly as he could, ignoring the buzz in his ear where his hearing aid was loose from sleeping in it. He wasn’t technically supposed to, but he didn’t like anyone touching his head on migraine days so it stayed in.

Eddie didn’t budge, and he hoped he stayed that way while he tried to keep his parents busy.

Then the lights flashed and he heard the distant high pitched ring of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” His father asked as Steve ran down the stairs.

“Steven?” His mother asked as he flew past them and made it to the front door.

“Steve!” Dustin yelled excitedly as Steve glared at him.

“Dustin, not now.”

“Why? I saw Eddie’s van, so I figured-“

“Who is at the door, Steven?”

Steve closed his eyes and heard Dustin mumble ‘shit’, before he turned around to face his parents.

His glasses were dirty, but he could see that the looks on their faces were not impressed.

“Since when do you wear glasses?” His mom asked.

“Is that a hearing aid?” His dad added.

“Dustin, I’ll call you later.”

“Answer the questions.”

“I started wearing glasses and the hearing aid after a few concussions that caused a lot of damage.”

“What’s going on with the lights? Do they always flicker like that?”

Steve hadn’t really expected them to care much about him, but it still hurt a little how quickly they became concerned about the house instead of him.

“They’re a visual aid so if I’m not wearing my hearing aid or my hearing gets worse, I’ll know when the doorbell rings.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yeah, it is,” Eddie said from the stairs, luckily not shirtless.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s dad didn’t waste time with pleasantries, he never did unless someone had something to offer him.

“I’m Eddie. Steve’s friend.”

“His friend?” Steve’s mom was hesitant to be obvious about what she meant, but everyone could understand where she was going with the questioning.

“Yeah, or would you prefer if we were boyfriends?”

Steve couldn’t help the snort he let out.

Eddie wasn’t the type to hide himself away, but he wouldn’t purposely make Steve’s life harder.

“Is there a reason you’re here?”

“I was taking care of him yesterday. It got late so I stayed.”

“Take care of him?” His mother turned back towards him. “Are you sick?”

“I get migraines.”

“We all get migraines, Steven,” his father said as he crossed his arms.

“But we all don’t get the kind that leave us crying and throwing up for hours on end because we can’t even see straight, do we, Richard?” Eddie asked as he walked closer to them.

“I don’t know who you think you are-“

“I told you, I’m Eddie. And as far as I’m concerned, I, and quite a few other people in town, are quite good at taking care of Steve. Unlike his parents.”

“Steve’s a grown man-“

“Yeah, now. But where were you when he wasn’t and got the concussions that caused this?”

Steve could feel his head pulsing, and he knew his migraine would be back at full force if he didn’t rest.

He took his hearing aid out for a bit of relief, the volume of his father and Eddie arguing going down considerably.

He massaged his neck the best he could, knowing that the release of some tension would at least keep the pain at bay until this could be over.

Then, he saw the phone start flashing green.

“What is going on with the phone?”

His mother directed the question at him, but Eddie stopped berating his father long enough to answer her.

“It’s so Steve knows it’s ringing if he happens to have his hearing aid out like he does now. In case no one is here with him and someone needs to reach him.”

“That explains not answering our calls.”

“I think that could just be that you don’t call at all.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve.

“Go upstairs, Stevie,” he said quietly into his right ear. “I can handle them.”

Steve was too tired, too frustrated, too borderline on a migraine to fight.

He walked upstairs, ignoring his father’s protests, his mother’s pleas, and Eddie standing in front of them both raising his voice to be heard.

Everything felt blurry as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes when he made it up the stairs.

His room was dark still, the blackout curtains still drawn closed, lights off, like Eddie had suspected it might be a bad day again.

His pills were on the table, a cup of water next to them. He set his glasses down and took them, trusting that Eddie followed the instructions perfectly.

He always did.

He always took such good care of him.

He came at the drop of a hat, even if Robin was already here. He brought Steve’s favorite soda, insisted it helped with migraines even though it probably didn’t. He massaged the spot on Steve’s neck that always held the most tension, pulled him close until he fell asleep on the couch or in the bed, always on his chest.

He’d been learning and teaching everyone sign language too.

Steve had started learning immediately, and so did Robin, but Eddie had insisted on it too, and started teaching the kids. He’d been showing Max one sign at a time, putting her fingers and hands into the movement so she knew how to do it.

And Steve didn’t think he could love Eddie more.

But he figured if Eddie was interested in him, he would have made a move already.

He could very distantly hear Eddie’s voice saying something, but he wasn’t sure what. With his hearing aid out, he usually couldn’t hear anything downstairs from his room.

He closed his eyes, settling under the blankets so he could try to do what Eddie wanted him to.

He drifted in and out, tired, but not quite enough to fall asleep all the way.

At some point, Eddie had made it back to the room and got in bed, his hand running through Steve’s hair gently.

“Eds?”

“It’s alright, Stevie. Your parents are gone. They won’t be back again for a while.”

“Mkay.”

He let himself drift again, safe with Eddie there.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #the party #hurt/comfort #hard of hearing steve harrington #visually impaired steve harrington #steve harrington has terrible parents #he also has migraines #but he also also has the kids and eddie #so thats a plus #requests #ficlet

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