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pierregazly · 1 year ago

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in the mind of another ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!soulmate!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes (no smut), pining/yearning for another, tiny bit of angst but hea! [wc is 5.4k]

in which soulmates always have a way of building the connection with one another. for you and max, you've always been the voice instead the others head, the one thing that has always been a constant presence. but will that voice inside your head, ever be the voice you hear from in front of you?

By legal terms, a soulmate was defined as “person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust.” In today’s day and age, more often than not, your soulmate was that of romantic origin, a person you yearned for on a regular basis.

It was something instilled in you at an early age, that everyone had a soulmate, but not everyone met their soulmate. Everyone had a way of interacting with their soulmate before they met. You learned early on, very early on, that you could interact with your soulmate through your mind. Through words, pictures, even internal conversations. But sometimes those interactions would lead to nothing, and your parents tried to ensure you were aware of that in the fear that you would be heartbroken one day.

One thing you could never do was tell them your name, who you were, or where you were until it was time. It was like your mind would go elsewhere when you tried to tell the male on the other end who you were. He told you the same thing happened to him every time he tried.

The both of you spent a plentiful amount of time interacting in your shared youth. He would often ramble on about his day, about go-karting, and his dad who he kind of hated but obviously loved, about his mum who he missed, and his sister who he couldn’t wait to see when she came to visit him wherever he was in the world.

You would do the same, you’d tell him about the things you did that specific day, explain little things about your family, the things you looked forward to for the remainder of the week. It was something you both just got used to.

The both of you grew up together. Even if it wasn’t physical, you were an emotional tether for one another when either of you needed it. He was there for almost all of your firsts, your first graduation, your first familial heartbreak, your first crush, your first boyfriend (which he was eager to help you through when it ended).

Ever embarrassing to admit, he was even the one in your mind, more times than you can count, when you felt the butterflies in your tummy growing as your fingers explored different parts of your body. He always pushed you to continue, telling you exactly what he would do with his own fingers, or his own tongue; when he finally got the chance to make you feel the way you were making yourself feel.

It was something you didn’t speak about after it happened, but it didn’t change the fact he was usually the one your brain went to when you made yourself feel that way. He argued it was the soulmate connection, that your soul just simply wanted him to be the one to do it.

As time went on, the conversations dwindled amongst the two of you, both of you growing up and growing out of the fantasy that you would meet your soulmate one day, meet each other.

You still got glimpses into his brain occasionally, pictures of blue and red cars, racecars are what you presumed. His fingers on what looked like a controller, but turned out to be a steering wheel when you asked him what it was.

“Seems like a bit of an extravagant steering wheel, no?”

The silent laugh was loud in your mind, as if you could feel his body rumbling in its laughter at your words, “Pretty extravagant, yeah. Not everyone gets to use something like this, though.”

“Explain the steering wheel to me, there’s too many buttons and toggles,” you prompted him, knowing full well it would dive him deep into an explanation about the object you so often saw inside his head.

That was another thing you learned about him early on. He liked to explain everything. He used to spend hours describing the go-karts he drove every weeknight and weekend, putting as much detail and emphasis into his explanations so that you would better understand. As time went on, so did his explanations, explaining situations he’s found himself in around the world, explaining how his career was kicking his ass but how he loved it, occasionally getting drunk and explaining how soulmates worked and that it was inevitable you’d meet one day, even if it felt like that day was never coming.

Not wanting to be the one to burst his fantasy and ruin whatever hope he had, you would usually just nod along and silently hum to him when the conversation of eventually meeting one day was brought up.

You still shared nights together, even from thousands of miles apart, your brain yearning for him as his did the same.

There were moments in time, where you were positive you had almost met him, or perhaps had made eye contact with him. It was a small feeling inside of you, like everything you were looking for was in the same building as you, or around the corner, or even in the same city.

Usually just as fast as the feeling appeared, it was gone. It never lasted for long periods of time, it was like your soulmate bond was teasing you, pushing for you to reinstate your faith in the connection. He always argued that if you lost faith in the soulmate bond, it would lose faith in trying to push the two of you together.

Yet another thing you learned early on, whoever he was, arguing was in his blood. If he disagreed with you, with something you said, or with an opinion you had, he would go off into a whole explanation and argument about why he knew you were wrong, and how he knew he was right.

It was endearing, how passionate he was about everything in his life, and seeing how his passion for everything just continued to grow as he grew up.

Over the last 8 years, you had learned not to even attempt to communicate with him on Saturday or Sundays. He had told you that it was the busiest time of the work week for him, and that he couldn’t handle internal distractions on those days.

You would only speak to him when he spoke to you on those days. Usually it was a fleeting ‘have a nice rest of your weekend’ or ‘I can’t wait until you’re here with me, celebrating this with me’.

He never elaborated on the last part, and you never went out of your way to ask. Whoever he was, he was usually celebrating something on Sundays, at least that’s what you assumed from the raw happiness and elation that usually went through your connection on those days.

You hadn’t heard from him, from your soulmate, in weeks. Which wasn’t necessarily unusual, either of you could cut off the connection for weeks at a time if things were stressful in life, or if you just needed a break from the never-ending person that was inside your head at all times.

It didn’t mean you didn’t miss his dry sense of humour, the bluntness with which he said things to you, the never-ending arguments about the stupidest things. You would never admit any of this to him, though.

Ignoring the yearning-feeling from inside of you, you allowed yourself to think about how things would be if you ever met the person on the other end of the connection. Would it be instant happiness? Relief? Joy?

People always explained their own experiences to you, saying it was like love at first sight, but amplified so significantly, because it felt like your soul was complete, like everything was finally where it needed to be in life. They described it as meeting the one thing that made you whole, the one thing that made you continuously push to be your best self, to continuously push to be better at everything you did in life.

You truly couldn’t believe what they said, not that it sounded exaggerated or silly. It was just difficult to imagine anything causing a feeling so instantaneously and intense as what they described.

Your friends had disappeared earlier in the day, eager to try and find themselves different drivers throughout the entrances to get photos or autographs with. You really had no interest in any of it. Your soulmate had eagerly admired, and shit talked almost every single person on the grid to you, at least once or twice, so it really wasn’t worth trying to interact with any of them after that.

Your paddock pass sat heavily on your chest, the lanyard rubbing against your neck as the bright Sun shined down upon your skin. The cheering of the Tifosi could be heard throughout the entire fan sections. The Ferrari faithful were dedicated, especially at their own Grand Prix.

He had told you that Monza was one of the ones not to miss. That it was electric, regardless of who you drove for, even if the fans were booing your favourite driver, or your favourite team, it was a delight to drive in Monza.

You found yourself staring at the different drivers names that were wrapped around the seating section. Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell... Max Verstappen.

He was handsome, that you could admit. With his pretty blue eyes, and his arrogant little smirk, and his annoying obsession with having to win.

“Oh, you think Max Verstappen has pretty blue eyes, huh?”

A small sound erupted from your chest as you listened to the words floating through your head from the man you hadn’t heard from in weeks.

“Look who’s alive! Thought you got lost with your little controller steering wheel.”

Laughing at your words, “You didn’t answer my question! You think Max Verstappen has pretty eyes?”

“I think Max Verstappen himself is pretty. Other than when he’s being an arrogant prick.”

That feeling had been eating at you all day, again. Like your soulmate bond was trying to force you to go in a direction you weren’t understanding. It was like it was trying to tell you that he was here, that he was so close you could almost smell him, almost touch him. You had been ignoring the little jabs inside of you all day, refusing to acknowledge the fact that maybe, just maybe, the person you were yearning for so heavily, was so close.

“My soulmate just called me an arrogant prick, without realizing she was calling me an arrogant prick.”

The Brit in front of him guffawed, his whole body moving as he gripped his side at Max’s words, “Mate, how did that even happen?”

Shrugging his shoulders as he looked at Lando, “Not too sure. I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks, figured she had shut the connection off for some time alone and all of a sudden, she’s thinking about how ‘Max Verstappen has such pretty blue eyes’ and then told me that I’d... or he’d be attractive all the time if he wasn’t such an arrogant prick.”

Patting his shoulder gently, all Lando did was grin at him, “Just think, mate. At least whoever she is, she thinks you have pretty eyes and that you’re good looking when you’re not being an arrogant prick.”

Max shoved him as he walked by, walking away in the direction of his driver's room. He had been having that feeling again, like his body was yearning for something that it couldn’t explain to him. He had tried to ask a few people about it, had asked Sebastian in the past if it was something he had experienced before meeting Hanna. Of course, Seb hadn’t been much help when one considered the fact that he and his soulmate had met in their shared childhood.

It wasn’t something he could ask either of his parents, both admitting long ago that they weren’t destined for one another and that they had never had a connection with their true soulmates, which allowed them to willingly marry each other. Victoria had met her soulmate and now husband when they were young as well, so she would be of no help.

He was almost embarrassed to ask Christian, or any other older person who had already met their soulmate. He was a grown man, he could literally just google it if he wanted to, but what exactly would he type in?

What is that weird yearning feeling I get every now and then, out of the blue, in random buildings or random cities?

Max was almost positive the answer would be ‘allergies’ or ‘hunger’. He figured that maybe it was soulmate related, it would make sense, but it wasn’t a feeling he had often. It wouldn’t make sense to only yearn so heavily for your soulmate in certain areas.

It was always the strongest when he felt like he was truly connecting with you. He noticed it for the first time when both of you had touched yourselves to the sound of the other, egging one another on, saying exactly what the both of you know the other wanted to hear. Max couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed that time with you, how intimate it was, how much he craved to be the one making you moan and whimper.

The feeling always grew after that, the yearning for the other person, the desire to have you there with him, the desire to have you underneath him after a night of celebration, the desire to have you wrapped in his arms, the desire to send you an unnecessary bouquet of flowers... if he could just figure out who you were, all of that would be possible.

But the yearning today was different. It was like his body was trying to tell him he needed to go somewhere, trying to encourage him to walk down halls he didn’t usually walk down, or trying to push him in directions that made no sense.

“You gonna tell me why you’re thinking of Max Verstappen so much today, and why you’re thinking so much about his pretty blue eyes?”

He could feel the involuntary smile reach his lips when he heard your soft laugh. He really tried not to be someone who was smitten with a person he had never met, but he couldn’t deny that he was in love with you, likely had been since the both of you were young.

You were the one constant in his life, the one person he could always turn to when he needed someone. You listened to all his ranting, dealt with hours upon hours of ‘Maxsplaining’, dealt with unnecessary outbursts and temper tantrums, but you never complained about it. You always eagerly pushed for him to continue, asking him more and more questions, prompting him out of his head and prompting him to get over whatever frustration had pushed him over the edge that day.

“If you must know. I’m at the Monza Grand Prix, and I had to get away from all the Ferrari fans for a bit, pretty sure they were going to blow my ear drums. Max Verstappen’s name is everywhere, so I, of course, had to internally acknowledge his attractiveness while grimacing at his name in front of me.”

Max felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. You were here? In Italy? At the Monza Grand Prix? The same place where he was, at this very moment, at this very second?

He could tell you were waiting for a response from him to your words. It was like he could sense the raise of your eyebrows from the silence that emitted between your connection.

“You’re in Monza?” He questioned eagerly, his hands sweating as he waited for a response

“Yes sir, just about to try and force myself to go find my friends and head back to the paddock so I can avoid getting trampled by any other Ferrari fans.”

Max knew almost instantly that, that had to be what the feeling was. The yearning. You were close by, and his side of the soulmate connection knew it.

He had tried to tell you who he was before, had tried to explain it to you in words that the connection wouldn’t muffle or meddle with. It never worked. Any time he tried to explain to you who he was, or what he did for a living, it was like his brain malfunctioned and he had to hotwire it back on.

You had told him the same thing happened to you every time you tried to explain to him who you were, or the easiest ways to find you in the real world. Every time either of you tried, it was like the connection was shutting it down.

Daniel had told him it was likely the bond, telling him it wasn’t the time yet, that the both of you had to wait until the bond was steady and ready for you to finally meet in person. Max had never believed it, until right now.

You had never been able to tell him exactly where you were before, at least, not that he can ever remember. You had told him the things you were doing in the past, had told him the people you were spending time with, even that you were getting dinner in certain districts. Any time you had tried to tell him the restaurant, or the city even, the connection would malfunction.

But you were just mentally able to tell him where you were, you were internally able to tell him where you were going in the place that you currently were.

“I’m... I’m in Monza too. At the Grand Prix, I mean.”

He could almost feel the instant shock and excitement at his words. Before he or you could get the chance to say anything else, he heard GP calling for him, the annoyed expression on his face an indication that he had been looking for Max for far longer than he actually wanted to be.

“I have to get back to work. Please, don’t leave before you hear from me again. Maybe this is a sign.”

You could practically feel the shock coursing through your body. Both of you were here. In Monza. At the Grand Prix. At the same time, together... but not together? You tried to contain the giddiness at his words, a silent hum in acknowledgement when he told you not to leave. How could you leave? Especially now that you knew he was here? And that he was working?

It gave you some indication as to why he was always so busy on Saturdays and Sundays, if he worked for a Formula 1 team, or for Formula 1 in itself. Their biggest days of the week were the weekends, especially during race weeks. It made sense why he could never talk on those days of the week, or why he always seemed so happy or moody on Sundays.

You couldn’t believe that both of you were able to tell each other where the other was, that the connection finally allowed you to give that little tidbit of important information to the other. Maybe it finally was time, maybe the connection was finally allowing you to meet the one person you had been yearning for, even if you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t.

The text message to your friends asking where they were garnered a response, which prompted you out of your train of thought. Letting them know that you were on your way to their location, your brain moved back to the previous thought your mind was on. He was here, like truly here. Within the same 10 kilometers as you. Probably the closest either of you had ever been to each other before.

Your friends greeted you eagerly when you finally found them, excitably telling you all about the drivers they had met, how Alex Albon even recognized two of them from previous Grand Prix and how they just knew Charles Leclerc was going to win today because the Tifosi were going crazy and how could you not win with all that support screaming for you?

Nodding along with a smile on your face, you had an inkling they were wrong. Max Verstappen was likely going to get his tenth win in a row, but you weren’t going to say that to them.

The drivers parade went by faster than you were expecting, before you knew it, the cars and their drivers were lining up in their respective places along the grid. Your friends eagerly itching for a better view of the upcoming race. You couldn’t even put the effort in to pay attention, wondering where he was right now.

Was he working? Was he one of the mechanics? One of the pit crew, eagerly waiting for their driver to pull into their spot? One of the engineers, hoping their instructions and their drivers did as they were supposed to? You tried not to let your mind wander to the other possibility, but it was hard not to.

What if he was one of the drivers? One of the 20 men now pushing themselves around the track at the fastest speed their car could take them? You tried not to stay on that thought too long, but your mind seemed to wander back to it.

It would make sense, really. Whoever he is, he had been karting since he was a boy. His father had been unnecessarily forceful with him about it, always pushing him even when he was down, telling him that champions didn’t cry and that if he wanted to win everything one day, he had to act like he wanted to.

He always made it seem like he was on top of the world on Sundays, like everything he ever wanted had happened that day. Would a mechanic, or an engineer, or someone from the pit crew consistently have that level of elation on Sundays?

You knew it was possible, if they were working for a winning team, or a winning driver, and that driver was making their lives as easy as possible, then you knew it was definitely a possibility. You just couldn’t shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it was one of the drivers.

The crowd was cheering as eagerly as they possibly could, Verstappen had overtaken Sainz three laps prior after the Spainard had led for 15 laps straight. The Tifosi were relentless though, cheering as loud as they could for their two drivers. Your friends had resigned themselves to the fact that Verstappen was getting his tenth win in a row, which was slowly coming closer and closer as the time ticked down.

It felt like time was zooming by; the minutes on the clock trickling down as the stadium waited for that last lap to start. Sainz was battling to keep Leclerc in fourth, doing everything in his power to keep the third podium spot he had rightfully earned.

The checkered flag waved as the Red Bull car of Max Verstappen passed the finish line, a simultaneous cheer erupting within the crowd when the two red Ferrari’s passed the line with barely a second apart.

That feeling inside of you, the yearning, it had been getting stronger and stronger throughout the race. Strong enough that you had to rub at your chest with a grimace more than once, ignoring the signs that obviously your soul connection was trying to give to you.

The television in front of you showed Max Verstappen on the top of his car, both hands and 10 fingers up as he stared at the moving camera, an obvious celebration beginning as he ran towards his team. Verstappen jumped at them, right as you heard his voice in your head.

“Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you.”

He sounded out of breath, but elated, as per usual on a Sunday. Must work for Red Bull then, you thought to yourself.

“I don’t really know how to explain where I am, I’m in the Paddock Club with my friends.”

Turning away from the screen, you tried to focus on the words coming through the connection.

“Come to the area where you can go towards the garages, I’ll have someone tell security to let you in. What are you wearing? I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me your name yet, and I don’t want to risk fucking this up.”

You had absolutely no clue how to find the area he was describing to you, explaining to him that you didn’t spend most of your time at Grand Prix’s unlike someone, apparently. All he did was laugh joyfully, explaining to you in simpler terms how to get to where he wanted you to go.

“I have to go do a few more things, but just wait for me, okay? I’ll come to find you, the moment I’m done. I swear.”

“I’ve waited for years; I think I can wait a few minutes more.”

He didn’t verbally respond, but you could still feel the happiness, the sense of something you could only describe as adoration come through the connection before he shut it off again. It was obvious he had commitments, but it was disheartening knowing you still had to wait a few more minutes, that he wouldn’t be there waiting for you, behind whatever security guard you were going to have to verbally grapple with to be let behind the barricades.

All you told your friends when you left was you had to go make a call, and that it may take a few minutes. They tried to argue with you, telling you the drivers were just about to do their post-race interviews and that it was always one of the best parts, but you simply brushed them off, eager to get to where you needed to be.

It didn’t take you long to find where he had told you to go, his explanations as thorough and necessary as they usually were. Before you could even get a word out to the security guard, a tall brunette in a Red Bull shirt lightly tapped your shoulder and gestured for you to follow her, flashing her entry pass at the guard and pulling you along.

“I’m Liv. I work in PR with Red Bull; I was told to wait for you. Sorry for just like... pulling you along. No one really gave me any explanation, just that I was told to look out for someone wearing the exact same outfit you are, and that it had something to do with a soulmate thing and I couldn’t get involved or ask questions.”

“This pass will get you in and out of pretty much wherever you need to be in the Red Bull garage and areas nearby,” the brunette rambled on as the both of you walked, pulling a second entry pass from her back pocket to give to you.

Both of you stopped in front of what only could be the hospitality lounge, if the plethora of food and drinks were any indication. You didn’t necessarily know where to go, or where to stand, so you looked back over at the brunette with confusion evident in your eyes.

“Just wait here! He shouldn’t be long. Feel free to snack, or make yourself a tea, or you know... drink whatever really. I have to get back to work. Just like, don’t leave. I’ll probably get in trouble for that. Anyways, bye! Good luck!”

Not giving you the chance to respond, Liv, as you learned previously, turned and basically ran out of the room. You were left alone in the hospitality area, everyone from Red Bull obviously still celebrating Max Verstappen’s tenth win in a row.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself, deciding to sit down on one of the couches being the only real option you could decipher. The television was on low, the interviewer speaking to Sainz, Perez, and Verstappen.

“You look eager to get out of here, Max. Big celebration planned for your tenth straight win?”

The Dutchman chuckled, a cocky grin prominent on his face, “I have something I have to do after this, of course, though, not the celebration right away. I’m sure the team has a celebration planned, but it’s a bit arrogant of me to be involved in my own celebration party planning, no?”

The interviewer laughed in response; you simply cocked your head at his words. Ironic that Max Verstappen would call himself arrogant, just hours after you had told him how arrogant you found Verstappen.

A few more questions zoomed by; your own thoughts preoccupied by the idea that your soulmate could be coming towards the room at any minute. The feeling in your chest, in your body as a whole, had grown substantially again since you sat down. What you didn’t notice was him grabbing his chest at the same time you did, rubbing it with a grimace as the yearning grew and grew.

It didn’t take long for the interview to end, the television going back to the reporters as the drivers evidently went to go do whatever it is they do after their post-race interviews.

You could hear someone walking down the hallway, which was strange considering how busy the Red Bull garage had to be right now. The steps grew louder as they got closer and closer to the room you were in, the door slamming open being the only thing to pull you out of your thoughts as you spun around.

Making direct eye contact with your soulmate for the first time was exactly how everyone described it. It was instant, the feeling that seated itself inside your heart, inside your mind. It felt like you were whole, like everything you had done in the past 24 hours, let alone the past 10 years, had led you to this exact moment.

You subconsciously moved off the couch, stepping in the direction of the man that was now eyeing your every move. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind, whether he was happy, disheartened, you didn’t know.

He stepped in your direction, just as you put another foot towards him. You could see the corners of his lips turning up, a smile starting to edge itself onto his cheeks.

“I can’t believe you’re really here. In front of me. Like, a real person.”

It was the same voice that you’ve heard in your head for years, except the words were coming from the mouth of the man in front of you, coming from the mouth of the man with the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen.

You barely had time to process anything before he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you directly into his chest as you wrapped your own arms around his body.

He was real. Everything you had yearned for, for years was real, and Max was right there, holding you in his arms as he pressed his lips against the crown of your head, not wanting to let you go.

Max could barely contain his eagerness as he basically sprinted down the hall of the Red Bull garage after the end of the interview. Olivia had told him where she had brought you, telling you to wait in the hospitality lounge and that he’d be there to see you as quickly as he could get out.

He couldn’t believe that you were really there. After spending years of talking to an invisible force inside his head, years of having a constant companion who he could turn to for internal comfort, you were barely seconds away from him.

Max didn’t hesitate to throw the door of the lounge open, making eye contact with you just a second later.

Everyone was right, the feeling you get when you finally meet your soulmate, the person that’s supposed to complete you in the best of ways. It was instant love, instant happiness, a feeling better than any win he had ever accomplished, a feeling that could barely be explained in one million words.

He knew right then that he loved you, and when you smiled at him, he knew you knew it too.

i am obsessed with the soulmate trope so this obviously got out of hand and way more descriptive than i intended. im hoping you all love it as much as i loved writing it!! let me know what you think

my requests are also open :)

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh

if you're interested in being added to my taglist, just send me a message/reply and ill add ya. i lost my list of who asked so if you weren't tagged and wanted to be pls let me know. (if your name has a strike through it, it wouldn't let me tag you)

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #f1 imagine #soulmate trope #my writing #formula 1

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

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HD Erised 2023 - Sitp recs

Hello hello! I’ve been trying to get back into the reading zone and Erised came at the perfect time. I thought I’d share my favorites as I slowly make my way through it, mostly to keep track of my reads and also because it’s been so long since I did a fest list (please don’t mind my very much incomplete Fan Fair list while I kick off another one 🙈 so much to read, so little time!). These were great fun and I can’t wait to see what’s coming up next!

🧹 Clear Skies, Full Hearts by @sorrybutblog (E, 16k)

Harry loves everything about playing professional Quidditch – the rush of flying, the rush of winning, the rush of getting off with rival seeker Draco Malfoy. Harry’s the highest scoring rookie Seeker in the history of the League. He’s also, inexplicably, obsessively, hooking up with Draco. When Draco unexpectedly quits the League and disappears from Harry’s life, Harry doesn’t stop wondering what it all meant and if he’ll ever get another chance to find out.

🪴 solemates by @shiftylinguini (E, 17k)

It starts because Harry has no self-control when it comes to meaningless and entertaining competition. Actually no, that's not quite right. It starts because Harry is absolutely plastered.

🎨 Thickets by @wolfpants (E, 17k)

When Draco returns to the UK after two decades of building his career as an internationally-renowned artist to look after his ailing, estranged father, he crosses paths with his former flame, Harry Potter, in the most unexpected way.

🚎 Sugarplum by @mallstars (E, 27k)

"Draco," said Potter, a little breathless, a little cheerful. "Hi." He smelled of coconut lotion, Cockroach Clusters and a sloppy ironing charm, his scent crowding Draco's overworked mind from the moment he stepped onto the bus. Lifting one hand off the steering wheel, Potter gave a small wave. He wore gloves. Fingerless, the leather black against the sunlight. Leather. In August.

🧶 we have heard on high by @oflights (E, 34k)

Reeling from the fallout of a bad breakup, Harry decides to find out who his soulmate is. The bad news: it's Draco Malfoy. The good news: Malfoy doesn't seem to know they're soulmates. The worst news: Harry might be falling for him anyway.

🇫🇷 À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

🥘 Nothing Gold Can Stay by @moonflower-rose (E, 40k)

One summer evening, Harry Potter vanished in the middle of dinner with his friends. Four days later he came back. Sort of. Draco Malfoy is on the case.

🐺 Jasmine in Bloom by @lqtraintracks (E, 41k)

This is not something Draco can have in his life… Potter overturning all that he’s carefully cultivated. They’re not compatible and never will be. Draco’s been playing with fire. It just so happens that he likes how Potter smoulders before being allowed close enough to burn.

⏳The Unplottable Time Conundrum by @writcraft (E, 45k)

When the past starts bleeding into the present at Grimmauld Place, an old academic article pulls Draco Malfoy out of his life of luxury. Haunted by the memory of a fleeting post-war kiss and thrust into the ghostly spaces inhabited by Unspeakable Harry Potter, Draco’s easy life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.

🪩 Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship (E, 118k)

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked. And yet, here he was.

#Sitp faves #erised 2023

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f1-stuff · 3 months ago

Note

Mentioning a Pacific Rim Charlos AU 😵‍💫 It’s like you’re in my brain!!!

I've been wanting to write one for soooo long bc the two of them just scream drift compatible in the most delicious way, where they wouldn't always agree on how to approach/attack a fight but their impulses would complement each other. They're both aggressive, but I feel like Carlos would take a bit longer to ease into a fight whereas Charles would come out swinging lol. They'd have to learn to share control though, which is also why I think it would be such a good au, bc they wouldn't just be perfectly in sync (boring) right from the get-go 😂

If you haven't seen it, there's this amazing art from earlier this year that always sparks the urge for me again when I see it... Also, the track preview for Bahrain where Carlos controlled the pedals and Charles the steering wheel, or vice versa for Canada (they did an amazing lap with Charles at the pedals, I remember). Or basically any time they split the controls/have to direct the other blindfolded, it brings the pacific rim vibesss.

#charlos #rpf #anon #ask #pacific rim au

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berylcups · 8 months ago

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Yandere Files: Prosciutto X Timid Reader

CW: age gap, verbal abuse, self harm, body dysmorphia, Codependency, pregnancy attempt, controlling behavior

Note: Beryl here! I tried to do more of a manipulative yandere post. I hope it turns out well! I don’t feel as confident as I do with my previous posts but I can always make better new posts in the future so I shouldn’t deprive my lovelies of what I do have! Hope you get some enjoyment out of it!

MINORS DNI

Y/N is another addition to the group of assassins, but Y/N doesn’t exude any sense of self worth or strength. They’re meek and nervous most of the time and have trouble making their own decisions. Y/N wasn't brought on for the extra muscle, but for their element of surprise. The fact they were so unassuming made them perfect to lay traps with their stand. Y/N is doing well job wise, but socially and self esteem wise- they’re struggling. So luckily or unluckily depending on how you view it, they’re under Prosciuttos “guidance”.

“Stand up straight!”

“Speak up! Be assertive!”

“Stop crying! It makes you look weak!”

“Don’t just stand there! Do something! Think on your feet!”

“Don’t let him talk to you that way! Tell him off!”

“Don’t be so indecisive! Make a decision and stick to it!”

All these orders being barked at Y/N is making their adrenaline go through the roof. It’s already been such a looooooong night. Can’t we stop already? How does Pesci handle this man??? Y/N doesn’t know whether to pass out or cry from exhaustion!

Y/N sat in the passenger seat of Prosciutto’s car. They had a 4 hour drive back to their base. As expected, Y/N gave a less than stellar performance.

“What was with that ridiculous display back there?! You could have been killed if you didn’t act sooner! You’re lucky I was there to save your ass at the last minute or else we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now!” Prosciutto scolded while watching for the light to turn green.

“I’m sorry… I got scared. I’ll try better next time.” Is all you can do to respond to the heated blonde.

“Sigh… we have so much to work on it isn’t even funny. I don’t even know where to start Y/N. We’ll discuss more about this later when we’re back home.” He said bitterly.

“Ok…” that’s all you could say. You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your face. Thank god it was night time so he couldn’t see them. You leaned your head to the side and closed your eyes and drifted off into a light dreamless sleep.

He felt bad for yelling at you but he wanted to keep you safe. How are you supposed to stay safe if you’re frozen in fear, not able to use your stand at the most crucial time? Prosciutto was the god of tough love. Every cruel thing he said or did was for the benefit of the receiver.

He knew he had to change plans when he saw the sleeve of your shirt rise in your sleep to reveal some fresh cuts and old scars. Seeing that was like a blow below the belt to him. He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white and his palms were starting to go numb. He knew your self esteem was struggling, but not to this extent. He wanted to yank your arm and demand what the meaning of this was but that would just add fuel to the fire.

___________________

Prosciuttos' yandere tendencies show up when stops trying to “fix” you and then goes on to trying to protect you. And He felt a strong urge to protect you. He always requested that you come with him on missions. Not only your stand was compatible with his, but could also keep you safe from the aging effect.

He wanted to make sure you knew how to protect yourself even when you ran out of energy to use your stand. He takes you to a shooting range and stands behind you helping you get yourself in a proper shooting stance, with such close contact with him you could smell his expensive cologne and feel his warm breath on your neck. It gives you goosebumps. He notices this but pretends not to and continues to instruct you. It’s hard to focus when the floral smell of your hair invades his nose.

If anyone tries to bother or make fun of you he puts a stop to it immediately. Whoever dares to ridicule you will face his wrath. And maybe even be threatened with Grateful Dead ☠️

“You feel like a big man picking on poor Y/N?! Grow up and get your shit together! That’s no way for a mafioso to act! If I catch you bothering them again I will bring out the Grateful Dead and age you till you're nothing!”

If your self esteem is at an all time low he’s gonna give you a pep talk. He’s gonna gently press his forehead against yours and look into your eyes and tell you how valuable you are. If you’re crying he’s going to take his thumb and wipe away the tears.

“Y/N Y/N Y/N no- that is untrue. You are very beautiful/handsome. Don’t let what the media dictate how you look or feel. There’s nothing wrong with having extra weight. All sizes are beautiful. You are so much better looking than you realize. We need to help you find your self confidence. With that you are unstoppable. Trust me on this. Ok?”

Being around him all the time and being told what to do all the time, you’re always looking for his approval. He was becoming aware that this relationship was becoming codependent on your side. But that’s okay- because Prosciutto knows best. You’re good at listening to him.. He knew he was being manipulative but he wants what he wants and that’s you.

His obsession starts to worsen later on. He doesn’t want you doing a damn thing. No going to the store by yourself- what if someone tries to rob you? No driving by yourself- what if you get into an accident? No missions with the others- they don’t know what they’re doing. Better yet let’s get you off missions entirely and have you work as research only! He’s going to control everything. He knows exactly how to manipulate you into the perfect partner.

He wants you to move in with him. You’re hesitant on it and ask to think on it for a bit. He’s going to make sure you feel anxious and uncomfortable by yourself by causing bad things to happen near your home. Dead bodies being found by your apartment complex, a break-in with your apartment fully ransacked, and hearing constant fights and gunfire. He successfully scares you into his arms and into his home.

He makes all decisions for you. What time you wake up , what time you go to bed, what you wash your hair with, what you brush your teeth with, and how much exercise you get. What are you??? Some kind of pet?! He means well, he just wants to make sure you stay healthy!

He gives you some freedom- the brands of makeup and beauty products you wanna use, the style of clothes you want to wear (as long as it’s not super casual ex-baggy t shirt and jeans),the food you eat- as long as it has good nutritional value. He’ll let you have your sweets and snacks but he limits those. He doesn’t want you to spoil your appetite or get an upset stomach! He wants to make sure you have time for your hobbies, just don’t make a mess and clean up after yourself. Those are his only rules.

He gets so sexually excited thinking about the age gap between the 2 of you. Being 7 to 10 years older than you makes it feel so erotic to him. It’s at the sweet spot of age where it’s not too old to be vile but old enough to feel just a little sinful. He masturbates in the shower just panting your name like a prayer. He wants you so bad but he’s holding himself back as hard as he can.

He insists…on bathing with you. There’s clearly nothing wrong about it. He just wants to make sure your hair is nice and clean and your back is fully scrubbed up. You can take care of the front of course you’re not unable to do so. But sometimes you feel something hard press against your ass when he’s scrubbing your hair but you don’t mention anything about it. Maybe the warmth of the water made him stiff. He means nothing by it, he’s not a sleazy type of guy!

When he catches you masturbating he’s going to be offended at first. Why didn’t you ask him??? It’s his job to help you with those desires!

“What’s the meaning of this? You’re touching yourself and you didn’t ask your fiancé for help???”

He's going to expect some help since you decided to play without him. He’ll expect a nice tit job or oral depending on your anatomy/capabilities in return.

He has a steady sex drive and he expects sex at least twice a day. Once before bed and once either in the morning or in the shower.

He’s brutal when it comes to sex. On all fours face down, ass up. He has a firm grip on your hips that’s going to leave bruises. He’s got a firm grip on your hair to bring you back up so he can lean down and kiss and bite your neck. He makes sure to cum inside you every time. He likes watching it ooze out of your abused hole. If you’re capable of getting pregnant he likes the idea of starting a family with you too.

Afterwards he’s going to hold you close with your back up against his chest. He’s going to pillow talk you and praise you for doing so well.

“ You’re such a good AFAB Y/N. You always listen to me. You are amazing. You always take me so well without any complaints. I should take you out to your favorite clothing store tomorrow as a reward.”

#jjba #la squadra #jjba part 5 #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #la squadra esecuzioni #minors dni #jojo prosciutto #jjba prosciutto #jojo prosciutto x reader #jjba prosciutto x reader

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fluffansmut-old · 2 years ago

Text

Lean on me

Summary: Steve is too busy taking care of everyone else to remember to take care of himself. Luckily Eddie shows up just when it all becomes way to much.

Content warnings: hurt/comfort, trauma, nightmares, flashbacks, friends to lovers-ish.

Word count: 3966

Ao3 | masterlist

Steve’s mental list of things to do was endless.

It flooded his mind and caused it to start spinning in a way that was impossible to stop, hence why Steve night after night tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep, trying to remember everything that he had to do.

This particular night, the list began with Dustin.

He needed to take Dustin to school, because Claudia's work schedule really wasn’t compatible at all and she wasn't comfortable with letting Dustin bike his way through town with all that had happened.

Steve also needed to look through the schedule at work to see if he could take some of Robins shifts since she confided in him that she could use a break, she really had been having a hard time since they came back from the upside down.

He needed to check in with the hospital about Max’s future discharge date, and the eventually changes that her home would need to accommodate to the state she was in at the moment, unfortunately he didn’t trust Susan Mayfield to ask these kinds of questions.

He also made mental notes to check in with a lot of people, at the top of the list was Lucas, who was processing a lot, trying to find a new normal with Max. Then came Nancy, who made the decision to break up with Jonathan and now felt bad about it even though it was the right decision.

Then there was the other end of the break up that was harder to keep an eye on, so he needed to check in with Joyce, to ask her to keep a watchful eye over Jonathan, cause Steve had seen him a while ago and he had a slumped expression and the reddest eyes he’d ever seen.

Steve couldn’t really tell if it was from weed or because he had been crying, but he guessed that it was a bit of both. He also needed to make sure to ask if he could help her with anything, cause he knew that she counted on Jonathan for a bunch of things and he really wasn’t in a helpful state of mind at the moment, and Steve didn’t want Joyce to feel overwhelmed.

Also whilst he had Joyce on the line he wanted to hear about how Will was, cause Dustin had mentioned that Will was acting kind of odd when they all were hanging out lately.

Steve remembered the conversation he and Dustin had the other day:

“ How were the boys?” Steve had asked Dustin as he hopped into the car outside the Wheeler house.

“They were good… I guess.” Dustin answered and Steve immediately picked up on the uncertainty of the answer and his brain had gone into panic instantly.

“What's wrong?” He asked, masking the panic that was already making his palms sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel.

“It’s just Will..” Dustin began but before he could finish images of Will under the mindflayers control popped up in Steve’s memory which made his heart pound impossibly faster.

“What about him, is he okay?!” Steve asked before he gave himself the chance to think rationally about it.

“Chill out dude,”Dustin said, shooting Steve a confused glare. “He’s fine, just acting weird, like not when its just him and me, then he’s the usual Will that we all know and love you know but its like… I think that he had a fight with Mike or something and its not totally resolved, cause he got really awkward around Mike, like he didn’t know how to act… Can you talk to him Steve?”

Steve had added that to his mental to do list right then and there;

Check in on Will (and find out if he has a crush on Mike Wheeler)

Another one that Steve wanted to check on was Munson, who’s name had been cleared with some help from Hopper, but who still got around town in a weary manner, hoping that not too many people would still view him as a murderer. Let's just say, Eddie kept a low profile. Which meant that no one in the party had heard from him in a couple of days.

That didn’t sit well with Steve, so many different things could happen to him during that time, it made him worry, probably an excessive amount, but who could blame you when it was over a friend who nearly died a few months ago.

Steve had visited Eddie 3 times a week during the time he recovered from his bat bites and had in that time grown strangely fond of the metal head and his antics.

He missed it, the way he could…relax around Eddie was different. He had this aura that sort of made Steve feel safe in his presence.

Steve didn’t know why he felt like that around him and that was why he wasn’t vocal about it.

The alarm clock woke him with a bang at 7:20 am. He had only fallen asleep 2 hours prior and was tired to say the least.

“Fucking hell” he murmured as he opened his eyes and saw the time.

He had the morning shift at 8 and had to give Dustin a ride before that so he was running positively late. Steve threw himself out of bed and shoved the first available pair of pants on whilst simultaneously looking around his bedroom for a shirt.

He was downstairs in record time and was about to head out when he saw the phone in the hallway and remembered that he had to call Robin before she left for school.

He put his jacket on with the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.

It rang for about 30 seconds until a high pitched voice picked up.

“Buckley residence”

‘Great.. Robins mom’. Steve thought as cleared his throat.

“Hello Mrs Buckley, its Steve” he said, trying not to sound rushed. “Is Robin there?”

“May I ask which Steve?” The older woman asked and Steve wanted to let out the longest possible groan into the phone, she had met him multiple times, surely she knew who he was.

“Steve Harrington, Robins co-worker” he said, ‘and best friend’ he thought.

“Oh right,” the woman arrogantly replied, “I’ll go fetch Robin.”

The seconds it took for Robin to reach the phone felt like hours to Steve who by then would be late for work.

“Robin?” Steve heard her say and it became clear to him that her mother hadn’t mentioned his name to her.

“Hi, it’s me” he said and heard Robin let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god, I thought it was my aunt Mildred again, she’s trying to convince me to come live with them this summer and I’m so not up for it.”

“Ouch that’s sounds unpleasant” Steve said, without any idea of just how unpleasant aunt Mildred really was.

“Tell me about it,” Robin said, “What can I do for you this morning?”

“It’s more of what I can do for you” Steve said, “Í’ll cover your shift today, and I want you to talk to Ms. Kelly at school.”

Robin noticed the change in his tone immediately.

“Steve, you really don’t have too,” she began but Steve cut her off.

“I want too, I can see that you need a break Robin, now don’t even try to argue with me.” He said, almost scolding the woman on the other end of the phone.

“Okay Steve, I won’t, but I’m not sure about ms Kelly, I can’t even tell her a fraction about what we went through” Robin said, her voice turning to a hushed whisper, probably to not alarm her mother.

“We both know you have things that you can talk to her about” Steve said.

Robin sighed, defeated, knowing that Steve was right.

“Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

Steve knew he was doing the right thing by covering Robins shift but by his 10th work hour he was ready to pull his hair out of his skull. The stream of customers was never ending and Steve had to deal with everything from people who thought he care for their movie reviews to mothers who choose movies themselves only to return later and tell Steve off for not warning them that the movie wasn’t appropriate for kids even though the label said just that.

Steve was knackered to say the least, so when Keith finally flipped the sign from open to closed then he couldn’t have been out of there quicker.

He threw his bag into the passenger seat and turned the key in the ignition and nothing happened.

“Of course” he muttered, tears of frustration leaked out of the corners of his eyes as he hit the steering wheel, “please work with me.”

After three tries he realized that the car battery was dead and he had no other choice than to walk home.

Steve thought about calling someone that could give him a ride home, but didn’t want to feel like a burden, so he decided against it.

When Steve unlocked the door to the empty house he couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. He felt so tired.

Exhaustion felt like the norm more than anything else.

Every limb in his body felt heavy, the headache sat round his head like a much too small flower crown, nausea came and went almost daily.

But even with all these signs, telling him that he needed to rest, Steve couldn’t.

He was wired up, tense, on watchful duty, all hours of the day.

Steve couldn’t remember a day past November 1983 when he hadn’t felt like this.

It only got worse.

Even though he had been promised that Vecna was defeated and the gate was closed, he couldn’t truly believe it. Things could still change for the worse. After all, it had before.

Steves stomach grumbled as Steve pulled off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. He glanced towards the kitchen, knowing that he should eat something, because the crackers he downed with a glass of water in Keiths office oh so many hours ago wouldn’t cut it.

The problem was the exhaustion, it was draped over him like a wet blanket and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he opted for an early night.

Upstairs, he noticed the walkie talkie that Dustin made him get when he started to get involved in all of it, and something in his mind told him to keep it close, just in case any of them needed him.

Steve grabbed it and threw it on the bed before he got out of his work clothes and into pajamas.

He went through his mental list of things to do and cursed at himself for doing so little. It also dawned on him that when the car was dead he couldn’t take Dustin to school tomorrow.

Tears threatened to spill over once again at that realization. How would he solve this?

That thought haunted him until he passed out, only halfway under the covers.

Steves eyes opened and he was back there.

He was held against the wall by the vines, and infront of him were them all, tormented by their worst nightmare. Dustin, Robin, Nancy, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, Jonathan, Eddie, all shouting with hoarse, panicked desperate voices for Steve, begging him to come save them from the hell that they were enduring.

All whilst a voice that in some ways sounded like Vecna but in other ways sounded like himself, talked to him.

“You enjoy watching them suffer… admit it”

“You’re way too weak to stop anything anyways, so it's just better to let them all perish.”

“You are a sick person Steve Harrington. Watching your friends slowly die”

In the cabin that nowadays housed the two Munson men, a walkie talkie sparked to life in the middle of the night.

Eddie blinked awake almost immediately, cause the sounds coming from it sounded horrifying.

It was short sequences of someone screaming in panic and agony, only for it to be cut off before it reappeared.

Eddie recognised the voice that shouted and whimpered without missing a beat, it was Steve, and something was up with him.

The old truck's engine kicked to life not even five minutes after Eddie had heard the first whimper.

He reached the Harrington house in minutes, finding the door unlocked.

He heard him even though he was on another floor.

“Steve!” He called out, trying to make his presence known.

When he entered the bedroom he saw the man who tossed and turned, his elbow pressing on the button of the walkie talkie.

“Steve, hey, wake up for me,” Eddie said, sitting down on the bed, shaking Steve slightly.

Steve’s eyes shot open and he was shaking like a leaf in between Eddies steady hands who held his upper arms.

He stared at Eddie for a split second as if he recognised him until he seemed to sink into some type of nightmare or flashback again and he ripped himself out of Eddie's grip and threw himself out of the bed grabbing the nailed bat.

Eddie recognised the weapon, he had heard the story about how it came to end up in Steve's possession.

“Steve” Eddie said and took a careful step towards him.

“Don’t” Steve said and tightened his grip on the bat.

”it’s just me, Kay?” Eddie tried to reason. It was like nothing was getting through, Steve was blank behind the eyes, his sole focus was on the monster that he was convinced would bounce on him any second.

“You’re safe Stevie.” The nickname slipped out before Eddie could stop himself. To Eddie it was clear that Steve was having some sort of flashback.

“It’s coming” Steve mumbled, flinching slightly as he heard a branch brushed against his roof. “Gotta keep em safe.”

Eddie realised immediately who he was referring to.

“They are safe, I promise, and you are too.” Eddie reassured. He tried to read Steve’s expression, it still didn’t seem like he truly heard what Eddie said.

Eddie was wrenching his own mind, trying to find a way to bring Steve out of the dreamhaze that he was currently in. The realisation hit him just seconds later, it was dark, the only reason that he saw Steve at all was the soft light from the moon outside.

Eddie moved quickly across the room towards the light switch. The sudden movement made Steve flinch and grip the bat impossibly tighter.

The metalhead sighed at the sight and wished with all his might that the switch of a light would bring him back.

Eddie flipped the switch and waited for the light to flood out of the ceiling lamp. Soon he saw that nothing happened, so he did the rational thing, the same thing Steve had done himself years before at scoops, flipping the switch an insane amount of times, hoping for it to magically turn on.

The noise of the light switch only seemed to make Steve more anxious so Eddie stopped. In the dim light he saw the outright fear in the younger man's eyes and he knew that he had to do something, and knowing it was dangerous he walked towards him.

“Steve, your power has gone out, okay?” He explained. “That’s why it's dark and feels cold.”

Steve blinked a little as to regain focus, but didn’t seem to be all that bothered about Eddie approaching him, so he continued.

“It’s nothing that you have to deal with now okay?” Eddie said. “Wanna go to my cabin?”

Steve wasn’t really all there yet and everything Eddie said wasn’t registering, but he catched that the figure in front of him was Eddie and that he wanted to leave.

Steve figured that it was probably safest for them to leave, so he nodded.

Eddie was thrilled to have Steve give him some sort of response, so he stepped even closer and took a steady grip around the bat in Steve’s hands.

“I can carry this to the car” he said, not bothering to ask, because then Steve could say no.

Steve looked up into the eyes of the slightly older man in front of him and when their eyes met Steve’s teared up. Eddie could tell that he was afraid to let go of the bat, clinging to it like it was his only lifeline.

“The kids” he said, barely audible.

“Hrrm?” Eddie shot back, having not heard exactly what he said.

“Gotta keep em safe” Steve said, moving the bat slightly closer to his body.

“I know, sweetheart” Eddie said, the petname rolling off his tongue in record speed. “I know, but right now we gotta get out of here alright?”

Eddie looked at the teary expression of the man infront of him and hoped that his latest effort would be enough to get Steve moving.

He felt the grip Steve had on the bat that was in both of their hands loosen and took the opportunity to grab it.

“C’mon Stevie” he said with a smile. “Let’s get moving.”

Steve felt like he was walking in a haze, nothing mattered and nothing felt real, but the warm hand on the small of his back felt oddly nice and he never wanted it to be removed from there.

Hence why a slight pout formed on his lips out of habit when he had to get into Eddie’s car.

The heat that flooded from the car, combined with the rocking of Eddie’s slightly wreckless driving and the metal music that streamed out of the speakers, (which Eddie quickly turned down to a low volume.) all woke Steve up a bit and suddenly it all hit him like a truck.

He had not only had another flashback but he had also, somehow, without even realizing it, brought Eddie into the circus, and now made himself into Eddie’s problem.

Now Steve's mind was clouding up with something completely different, his parents and the phrase they used constantly.

“Don’t be a bother Steven”

It was constant, when he had nightmares as a kid, when he needed help or just wanted to talk.

He was constantly made to feel like a burden and a bother.

Right at that moment Steve felt like a burden more than ever.

It was in the middle of the goddamn night and here Eddie was, up,out and driving for no other reason than him.

The sadness that hit him at this realisation was of another kind, it was unstoppable, the guilt he felt was enough to eat him alive.

A heart wrenching sob from the passenger seat almost made Eddie sverve off the road.

“Stevie, what’s the matter?” Eddie said when he regained his control behind the wheel, gently placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

At first Steve didn’t reply, he simply just sobbed, because of the guilt he already felt and for the worry in Eddie's voice that only spewed on all of this even more.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out as Eddie parked the car outside the cabin he and Wayne lived in.

“For what?” Eddie asked with genuine confusion.

He looked at the younger man with such patience, tucking a loose piece of Steves hair behind his ear in an attempt to read the problem from his expression.

Steve lifted his head and looked at Eddie, as he decided to lay all of his insecurities in the arms of the metal head in front of him.

“I dunno what to do anymore” he mumbled.

Eddie held back a gasp when he saw just how distraught Steve looked. The never ending stream of tears combined with the red, sleepless eyes and the posture that made the man in front of him seem so goddamn small.

“Sweetheart, lets go inside and talk yeah?” Eddie said, and quickly got out the car, opening up Steve's door for him.

“Your uncle?” Steve asked, not wanting to bother another person.

“He’s at work.” Eddie reassured, “just you and me, big boy.”

Eddie could see the small smile that formed on Steve's lips at the nickname, despite the tears.

Inside Eddie led Steve to the couch and had him sit down whilst he got him a cup of water.

He felt Steve’s eyes on him at all times, he glanced at him, flashing a reassuring smile, the younger one on the sofa was softly sniffling, alternating between wiping tears away and fiddling with his own fingers.

Eddie handed Steve the glass of cold water and watched as it shook in his trembling hands.

“Carefully there honey” he said and rested his ring clad fingers on the bottom of the glass.

Steve gulped down the glass, hoping that the water would sooth his headache. He also found that his stomach fluttered and his cheek blushed with each passing nickname.

“Now Stevie, what do you need?” Eddie said after the glass was put on the coffee table to be forgotten about.

This set off another round of sobs within Steve, because the simple answer was, for someone to ask that exact question.

Steve didn’t know exactly how to reply, his already badly upheld facade crumbled completely at the question. Steve's body shook with sob, he wrapped his own trembling arms around himself, hiding his face in the front of his hoodie, trying to find a way to calm himself enough to answer the man who was watching all of this unfold before him.

“Baby,” Eddie said softly at the man in front of him. He couldn’t watch anymore, he could so desperately see what Steve so badly needed. “cmere, lean on me now”

Eddie shifted and rested his back against the armrest of the couch, his entire body facing Steve. He leaned forward and grabbed Steve’s arm, ever so gently tugging the man towards him.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he knew it wasn’t what he was supposed to do, but then again none of this was, so he made his way into the arms of Eddie Munson.

The metalhead wrapped his arms around him, and felt the hot tears drip down Steve’s cheeks, onto the old black sabbath shirt that he was wearing.

To Steve it felt unusual but strangely nice to just be held by someone.

Eddies deep breathing was rhythmic and calming, so to the extent that Steve found himself trying to match his own to it, and soon it seemed like the two were breathing in sync.

It was quiet in the soft lit room where the two sat, only the deep breaths and the quiet sob that didn’t seem to stop were heard.

Steve found himself pushing his face more and more against Eddie chest, as if to figure out if it all still was real.

“I’m here, “ Eddie reassured. “Do you want to talk? Or be distracted?”

He asked the questions whilst trying to catch enough of the younger mans face to be able to read his reaction.

“Uhm,” Steve said, before turning quiet, he carefully grabbed Eddies hand, twirling with the rings.

“What do you need?” Eddie asked softly, “I can tell it’s something.”

“I want to uhm, stay, like this… if that’s okay with you?” Steve asked, his eyes glossed over, almost expecting to get no for an answer.

“Of course” Eddie said. “As long as you need.”

Steve laid his head down on Eddie's chest again.

“Might want to stay here forever.”

Steve closed his eyes and soon fell asleep, this time without fear or worry.

Eddie figured that he could figure out what caused all of this later, right now he was content with the secure grip he had round Harrington and the calming effect it had on the man.

Anything else could wait.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steddie

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