#no hate for polo just love

[vitamin-zeeth]

BLAINE THE BOWTIES ARENT CUTE YOU JUST LOOK LIKE IF YOUNG SHELDON WAS A 2010S TUMBLR KID

#STRIPED POLO SHIRT BRACERS AND A PINK BOWTIE COME ONNNNNNN #sidenote brittany just said she hates Rachel and this is fully cementing my love for her #thats what you missed on zeeth

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

#ONE CABIN 🏚️ #ONE BAND #ONE DREAM #ONE DIRECTION #IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN HAHAHAHA #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil Gaiman and Roz Kaveney at the British Library event Why We Need Fantasy 20.11.2023 :) ❤

Neil: Good omens Season One was, for me, an exercise in adaptation. I'd taken something, and I wanted to turn it into something else. Good Omens Season Two, on the other hand, was just an absolute joy, because now I knew I have Jon Hamm, and I can get him to do this stuff, and he's going to be walking naked through Soho at the beginning, and everybody is going to think they're going to hate him, and instead, he's going to be this marvelous, goofy figure that they will all love but kind of hate themselves for loving, but not know if he's a bad guy, but they'll love him anyway. And over here, I will have my Crowley, and I know that I can get David Tennant to do anything now, there is nothing that he will not go for. And so I can ask him to do things that are even more ridiculous. And then over here, I've got Michael Sheen, and everybody in the whole world just wants to..., you know, it is now forgotten by humanity that once upon a time, Michael Sheen was thought of as that actor who plays the really creepy people.

Roz: Yeah. I saw him in Kingdom of Heaven the other night and thought, oh, that was Michael Sheen.

Neil: That was Michael Sheen.

Roz: The evil priest that gets killed.

Neil: He used to play... I mean, he used to play creepy people, and everybody knew that if you want a good, slimy serial killer person, you go for Michael Sheen. Currently - I got a phone call from him the other day - a little Marco Polo video message from him with the strangest haircut I've seen, and I get strange messed... you know, hair, but this one, and he's playing Prince Andrew, so he's absolutely capable of still bringing in the creep. But, you know, Michael having just become this cuddly, cinnamon roll creature of pure love and joy and knowing that everybody was just going to want to cuddle him for six episodes until I let him break their hearts. I'm sorry. Perhaps he will-

Audience member: No, you're not.

Neil: Not even the tiniest bit. There is no sorrow in that.

Roz: I was in hospital when I saw Good Omens Two and the moment I finished watching it, I texted you and said, 'You magnificent bastard.'

Watch the whole event here :).

#good omens #neil gaiman #roz kaveney #why we need fantasy #why we need fantasy british library 2023 event #events #interview #neil interview #videos #fun fact #gos2 #season 2 #jon hamm #michael sheen #david tennant #s2 interview #transcripts

[valeskafics]

"Tease" - Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: for a request from @maidmerrymint for rafe with a reader who's just as bad as he is. i hope you enjoy this! 🩷

Summary: Rafe wants you, his best friend's girl.

Word Count: 2,500

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: infidelity, alcohol consumption, toxic reader, toxic rafe, afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, semi public sex, unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, oral m receiving, size kink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

For Rafe, the absolute highlight of coming to the Island Club early on Saturday mornings is seeing you.

His best friend’s girlfriend.

After he finishes a round with Topper and Kelce, he stops by the club’s cafe, eager to see you, sure that you’ve probably just finished up your private tennis lesson. Your parents spare no expense when it comes to you, their little varsity star. He sees you, sitting there on one of the barstools, legs dangling over the edge as you scroll through your phone and sip on a piña colada. His eyes rake over your form in that little pink tennis skirt and matching polo shirt, knee socks, and pristine white tennis shoes. The sight of your thighs and the little sliver of your stomach that shows between the bottom of your shirt and top of your skirt brings a grin to his face as he walks over to you with all the confidence of the alpha male he knows he is.

“Oh, hi, Rafe,” you greet, barely even bothering to look up from your phone, irking him.

Rafe smirks, “How was the tennis lesson, princess?”

“It was good,” you hum, taking a sip of your drink, “Sectionals are coming up soon, so my coach is riding my ass.”

“I’d love to ride that little ass-”

“Sorry, did you say something?” You ask, glancing up from your phone, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

Rafe shakes his head, taking a seat beside you, “Nope, not a thing.”

“You and Top have a good game?”

“Oh yeah, totally annihilated him. He’s really starting to lose his touch,” he jokes, leaning in close to you, his thigh pressed up against yours.

“Let my boyfriend win once in a while,” you tease, “It puts him in a good mood.”

“Nah, princess, you know how competitive,” Rafe grins cheekily, “You should’ve seen him sulking back there, fuckin’ crybaby.”

You giggle, dropping your phone in your purse, crossing your legs, your foot now resting against Rafe’s calf, rubbing gently, the sensation making his cock twitch in his shorts, “Yeah, that’s Topper. He’s a sulker.”

“I would never sulk.”

Rafe feels quite pleased with himself as the way you giggle, your foot still moving along his calf, gaze meeting his as you tease, “Maybe I like the sulking. Some girls prefer sensitive boys, Rafe.”

“Do you like sensitive boys?”

He moves his eyes along your legs, letting them rest on your thighs for a moment too long to be appropriate. You’re so close that he can smell your natural scent mixed with the vanilla body wash he knows you shower with. Maybe it’s creepy that he knows that, but Rafe doesn’t give a fuck.

“That’s for me to know and you not to find out.”

Rafe elbows you playfully, “Oh, come on, don’t be such a little tease. You’re gonna get me all hot and bothered if you keep on talking to me like that.”

Your lips curl into a little smile as you chide playfully, “You can’t talk to your best friend’s girlfriend like that. People might get the wrong impression.”

“Or the right one… Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting,” he ogles you shamelessly, and you don’t seem keen on stopping him, “Think Top would throw a fit if he saw me with you like this? Heard the way I’m talking to you?”

“Mmm, he trusts you. And he trusts me.”

“That’s boring,” he leans in closer, “Cuz from what I’ve heard, you’re one jealous little girl. You hate when other girls try to play with your toys. So I’m sure you’d want your man to get all possessive and protective over you.”

“You don’t think Topper’s possessive enough over me?” You ask, leaning forward, resting your chin on your palm as you smile at him.

“I personally think he should keep a wild little thing like you on a tighter leash,” Rafe replies, “And I think you’d enjoy it. Topper’s a nice guy. Too nice and too weak for someone like you.”

You pout, “A leash? So cruel, Rafe.”

“You should be disciplined too,” he continues, his nose nearly brushing against yours with how close you are, “I think you’re craving more than what Topper can give you. A stronger, more aggressive man who can tame you.”

You bite your lip, gazing up at him through your lashes, “How would you tame me, Rafe?”

“By knowing exactly which buttons to push. How to make you beg. And scream. And cry.”

“You wanna see me cry? You’re kinda mean, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I am,” he laughs darkly, “But you’re into that. The meaner I am to you, the better it gets for you. You like it.”

“Maybe I like nice boys.”

“Nice boys?” Rafe scoffs, “Nice boys are boring. I bet you’re so fuckin’ bored with Topper. He’s a boy and you need a man like myself to satisfy you.”

“Are you trying to poach your best friend’s girlfriend?”

“I might be trying to turn you into my girlfriend.”

“I thought Rafe Cameron doesn’t do relationships.”

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering against your cheek, “Maybe Rafe Cameron will make an exception for you.”

As if on cue, Topper walks over toward the two of you and you pull yourself away from Rafe, rushing into your boyfriend’s arms, pressing yourself up against him and kissing him passionately. Rafe watches with thinly veiled jealousy, knowing that the exaggerated moans are all for his benefit, the way you grind yourself against Topper. You open your eyes as you kiss Topper, keeping your gaze locked on Rafe’s, watching as his jaw ticks, his nostrils flare. He’s fucking pissed.

Topper takes you by the hand leading you to his car after saying goodbye to Rafe. You do the same, giving him a cute little wave, blowing him a kiss when Topper’s turned to leave. His gaze doesn’t leave you until well after you and Topper have driven away.

Rafe’s blood boils as he sees you dancing with Topper at the kegger that night, your back pressed to his front as you grind that pert little ass against him, his arms wrapped around your waist. And you know how you’re affecting Rafe. He can tell when you look over at him with that little smirk. You’re getting off on this. Knowing that he’s watching you. Knowing that he wants you but seemingly can’t have you. People think you’re such a fucking sweetheart, but he knows the truth. You’re just as manipulative and twisted as he is. He watches as you bring Topper’s hands up to squeeze at your tits, your lips finding his, the sight making him nearly growl with annoyance. He crushes the solo cup in his hand, tossing it to the ground, and stalks over to the keg to grab another.

He watches as you whisper something to Topper before sauntering toward the keg yourself. You look so fucking good in that little sundress, your tits nearly spilling out over the top of it, the hem barely reaching your mid thigh. He wonders if you even bothered wearing a bra or panties underneath. You meet his gaze, giving him a lazy little grin.

“Oh, hey, stranger.”

“Hey,” he replies, his voice low and gravelly as he leans over the keg, “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m driving tonight, just getting my boyfriend a beer.”

“What are you, his beer wench?”

“Just trying to be a good girlfriend, Rafe,” you giggle.

“You two were getting kinda freaky over there, weren’t you?”

He watches as you cover your mouth with a dainty little hand, feigning surprise, “Oh gosh, you saw that? I’m so embarrassed.”

Rafe grits his teeth, grabbing you by the jaw, squishing your cheeks together ever so slightly, staring down at you, eyes flickering between that pouty little mouth and those doe eyes, “You know I did. You made sure to grind up on him when I was looking. You wanted me to be jealous. You wanted to keep me hooked on you.”

“Are you? Hooked on me?”

He scowls, “You’re such a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You giggle, gazing up at him, “Don’t act like you don’t love it. You like that I’m just as bad as you are.”

Rafe can’t deny that. All he can do is stare down at you, at those plump lips that are just begging to be kissed. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he finally speaks again.

“You know what would be really hot?”

“Hm?”

“If you kissed me. Right now.”

His eyes widen in surprise when you lean in toward him, pressing your lips to his jaw, letting them linger there for a moment. They’re so plush and soft, it drives him fucking crazy. You giggle, taking his hand and leading him toward the abandoned lifeguard tower, where the two of you can talk without being seen. Not that either of you really care at this point.

Rafe pushes you up against the tower, hands moving under the bottom of your dress, a low groan leaving his mouth when his palms caress the bare flesh of your ass. He was right. You didn’t bother putting anything on. You moan against his lips as he kisses you ravenously, as if he wishes to consume you entirely. He squeezes your soft flesh, needing it between his hands, cock straining against his jeans as he continues to kiss you. You moan at the feeling of his fingers tracing your slit, gathering the wetness there, before he pushes three inside you without any warning, making you whine pathetically at the stretch. Your phone goes off and you reach for it, seeing that it’s Topper. Before you can decline it, Rafe grabs the phone from you and hits accept call. Your jaw drops, eyes going wide as he begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, arching his brow, a silent demand for you to speak.

“H-Hey, babe,” you manage to eke out, your breath coming out heavier than normal, prompting your boyfriend to ask what’s going on, “Oh, I uh, I ended up going home. Wasn’t feeling too well. I just threw up, actually… No, no, you were having fun, didn’t wanna ruin your night. Have fun. Love you.”

You hang up, tossing the phone onto the sand beside you, kissing Rafe again, mewling as he rubs against that spongy spot deep inside you furiously, grinning against your lips as he feels you clenching around his fingers. You reach your peak, evidence of your arousal coating his fingers, which he brings to your lips. He pushes them into your mouth, chuckling at the sight of your lips wrapped around the digits, the feeling of you licking them clean like a little fucking kitten, gazing up at him, eyes dancing with mischief. You’re a fucking minx and Topper is insane if he thinks he’s man enough for you.

You palm at Rafe’s cock over the fabric of his jeans, murmuring, “Do you have a condom?”

He pauses for a moment, running a hand over his face in annoyance, “Fuck…”

“It’s fine,” you say, unbuttoning his jeans, freeing his cock, giving it two slow pumps with that soft little hand of yours, “Just pull out. I need your dick inside me right now.”

Rafe nods eagerly, grasping at the head of his cock, pushing inside you with a moan of your name. He’s so much thicker than Topper, and a bit longer too, that it stings a bit at first. For his part, Rafe’s never had a girl whose pussy takes him as fucking well as yours does, the feeling of your warmth around him driving him almost insane with lust. He’s like a feral beast as he pushes you against the lifeguard tower, pinning your arms above your head with one hand, using his other hand to tug at your dress, pulling it down enough to free those soft, round tits, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples, suckling at it greedily.

He hikes one of your legs around his waist, allowing him to fuck you deeper, listening to you moan his name like a bitch in heat. He’s listened in on you and Topper before, he has no qualms in admitting it. And he’s never heard you this fucking responsive. It’s all for him.

You’re so fucking tight as he pounds into you, the fat head of his cock rubbing against that spot that has your toes curling, your lips parted in a silent scream of his name. Rafe can feel himself getting close and moves to circle your clit with his fingers, rubbing at the swollen little nub furiously, feeling you tremble around him as you inch closer and closer to your climax, before finally? He feels you gushing around his cock, soaking him. 

He pulls out reluctantly, already missing your warmth, only to groan as he feels you take him into your mouth, far enough to hit the back of your throat, your eyes watering as you gag on his cock, though you seem content to do it. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down on him, your hot wet mouth feeling almost as good as that tight little cunt did.

He’s going to have to convince you to let him cum inside you one of these days.

Rafe grabs his phone, making a video of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, ruined mascara trailing down your cheeks as you continue sucking him off, one of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock while the other massages his balls. He pulls out of your mouth just before he reaches his peak, and you stick your tongue out, letting the thick, white ropes of cum spill onto it. You look so fucking pretty like this, your lips and tongue covered in his spend. He ends the video and takes a quick picture of it, setting it as his home screen. Almost as his lock screen, but even Rafe has limits.

You stand on your feet, adjusting your dress before giving him a cheeky smile, “Well, you finally gave in.”

“Huh?”

You tug on the Cartier chain Rafe wears, pulling him close to you as you whisper, “I only ever dated Topper to make you jealous. Looks like it worked.”

He scoffs, tugging at your hair, pulling it back to expose your neck to him, his teeth grazing against your soft flesh, “Little fucking tease. I really am going to have to discipline you. First thing you’re gonna do is break up with your stupid little boyfriend.”

You giggle, feeling his hands groping at your tits as he continues kissing your neck, “And then?”

“And then I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re not going to be able to go to your little fucking tennis lessons for a week. You’re all mine now, princess. And I’m all yours.”

You smile, “Good.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #my writing #rafe oneshot

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

[loveshotzz]

Hi hi babes 🖤🦇

May I pretty please request ☆ { licking } their neck to make them gasp with our Stevie?

Thank you 🥰

Hi my sweet sweet Drac 🖤 I would love nothing more than to give you what you want.

steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ Co workers to lovers, Mentions of drinking at a party, dry humping, hickey giving, uh-oh did you make Steve cum in his pants? :(

You weren’t supposed to give into Steve Harrington, you promised yourself you wouldn’t after your first day at Family Video when he laid it on thick with the kind of flirting that would have gotten him anything he wanted in high school but you knew better now and his own confidence had gotten knocked down a few pegs over the years. The problem was he could tell you liked it, because as much as you hated to admit it, you did. Steve caught the twist of your lips that you were always trying to hide when he’d tell you how cute you looked every time you walked into work even on the days it was just a t-shirt and jeans. You never told him to stop, even when he’d ‘jokingly’ ask you out to dinner after every close. It was always a shy smile and a roll of your eyes with a ‘shut up Steve’.

So how’d you end up straddling his lap in the basement at one of Rick’s parties that you didn’t even want to go to with his bottom lip between your teeth? You blame Robin Buckley and her incessant need to take multiple shots in a row to ‘get it over with’, and then abandoning you as soon as Nancy arrived leaving you with the boy you’ve been trying not to relent to and his reaction to your skirt all night.

Steve’s fingers dig bruising indentations into the soft dough of your hips when you let his lip go with a wet pop, watching it snap back into place even more swollen and pink than before from under your lashes. The mossy forest of his eyes is taken over black, pupils blown wide half hidden by heavy lids as he looks up at you with hair even messier than its normal disarray with your hands as the culprits. Your skirt sits rucked up just enough for him to see the blush pink lace of your panties underneath that match the dusting on his cheeks, and the wet patch that you know will leave a mark on the light wash denim of his jeans the more you grind against him. He lifts his hips up as he pulls you forward, gliding you over the inseam of his zipper with just the right amount of pressure against your clit to have you gasp. He feels even bigger than you imagined, bigger than all the stories you’d heard from other girls.

A cocky lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth pushing up the cheek with the two moles that look like a vampire bit the apple of it, traces of pink from your gloss still linger on them and the glitter coating shimmers in the low light. He tilts his head back to look up at you, the thick expanse of his neck exposed along with the sharpness of his jaw. The new angle reveals a mess of freckles you’d only dared to let yourself look at from afar. Glitterless and bruisless, a blank canvas that taunts you.

Leaning forward your hands find a home on his chest, while his fingers spread wide over the curve of your ass. The tips of them daring to slide along the bottoms of your panties. His pecs twitch against your palms from under the thick fabric of his navy polo that fits snug over his broad shoulders, almost like it's a size too small just like his jeans and just like his vest at work. Steve Harrington knew what he was doing. Of course he did.

Tequila and pineapple are sweet on your breath, mixing with the peach of your gloss in a way that makes him impatient to collect them in a kiss again when the tip of your nose traces up the straight bridge of his. It leaves your lips just a chin tilt away from him if he really wanted but his dark eyes flick down to the growing wet patch between your thighs instead, grabbing handfuls of the soft fat of your ass to encourage you to grind harder.

“S’pretty you know that?” He groans bucking up when your hips oblige him, the tip of his cock fighting with the inseam of his jeans, pushing into the silk of your underwear making an even bigger mess of you. “Too damn pretty, honey. Could stare at you all day, fuck - I do.”

“Steve!” The way you giggle his name makes his teeth flash in the kind of smile that has you feeling like the flustered girls you see leave the counter at work.

“What? It’s true, can’t keep my eyes off you.” He sits up, straightening his back with big hands that pull you up with him.

The new position has your chests pressed, the length of him rubbing along your clit with enough pressure to make you whine and god does he need you to do it again. Grunting he starts his hunt for another with lips that find the hollow of your throat, smirking against your skin when your fingers tangle in his hair. You wanted to give it to him.

“I didn’t think you were gonna give me a chance,” His babbling doesn’t stop, especially when your hips start to circle, “you were playin’ so hard to get baby, but I’m patient when I really want something.”

“We work together Steve -“ You try to argue with a shaky breath, lashes fluttering closed as he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. The springs of the couch starting to squeak under your movements, too close to care about holding back any more. “It could get messy, you know? - Shit.”

He hums like he understands with your earlobe sucked into the heat of his mouth, letting it go with a pop before his eyes meet your heavy gaze with a mischievous glint that only stokes the flames he’s lit across your body, licking every inch of your skin.

“I don’t know,” The corners of his mouth twist up in a grin snapping the elastic band of your panties “seems pretty messy now.”

His tongue traces your top lip, while his fingers find purchase wrapped around your hips. Tan skin pulls taut over his knuckles using his strength to bring your hips down on him harder, a deep groan rumbling from his chest when you tug at the thick locks of his auburn hair from the roots.

“That’s not what I - “ Your lips connect for a moment, tongues meeting briefly before you pull away with a huff, “that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

The tip of his nose bumps with yours, his breath fanning across your face in a mixture of leftover peach gloss and the whiskey he opted for instead upstairs.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” He asks with another roll of his hips relishing in the way it makes your jaw go slack with a smirk, “We get paid to have sex? Big woop.”

“Is that how you think it’s gonna be?” Your bottom lip meets his top when the question comes out, your eyes meeting his from down the slope of your nose.

“Maybe,” He wiggles his eyebrows with a chuckle that hits hot against your throat, “If you want, after I take you out on a date of course.”

“Oh we’re going on dates now too?” Grinning with a tilt of your head, you think about stealing a kiss that he’s eager to give.

One of his hands leaves your hip, the warmth of it coming up to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your bottom lip before tugging it down.

“Yeah, we’re going on dates”

He closes the little space between you, finally stealing what you’ve been teasing him with. His mouth moves with yours like he’s sure of himself, tongues meeting in a slow dance instead of a battle for dominance. His other arm wraps around your waist, biceps that are just as strong as they look pulling you closer, caging you in with another buck of his hips. The whine he’s been trying to get out of you starts to tease him from the back of your throat, the beginnings of it making his lips twitch against yours in a cocky way, even when he knows he’s dangerously close to needing a new pair of pants.

He’s not expecting one of your hands to come up and pinch the sharp edges of his jaw between two red painted fingers, or the way you start to control the kiss and Steve starts being the one to writhe underneath you at whatever mercy you want to give him. Truly, he doesn’t want any.

Now it’s him who whines when you pull away, your kiss swollen sticky lips finding the familiar path to his cheek. Another glittering trail of pink that leads down under his jaw where you nip just like he did to you.

“Honey,”

The pet name comes out like a warning when your tongue swipes across sweat slick skin. The tip of your nose nudging behind his ear with a smirk. Your hips circle with purpose now, not the wild abandon from before, feeling the way it makes him twitch in his jeans. He shudders when you lick the length of his neck, teeth scraping along the protruding vein as his arm tightens its hold, the palm of his hand curling around the back of your neck.You hum in approval, lips wrapping around where your teeth just were before sucking hard.

He groans your name loud enough you’re sure someone upstairs heard him, eyes rolling in the back of his head and toes curling in his sneakers as his hips buck up meeting the roll of yours. You know it’s going to be enough to leave his sun kissed skin lilac and blush when you’re done, but he doesn’t seem to care when the hard tip of him that threatens to bust through the seam of his jeans keeps hitting your bundle of nerves over and over again.

Steve’s head falls against the back of the couch, eyes pinching shut opening himself up more for you while his hips stutter. You feel the warmth of him flood between your legs. A string of curse words spilling from his lips, when your own release has your body freezing on top of him, thighs closing tight around his and an open mouth to his neck in a silent scream.

It’s quiet for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath with the bass of the music that vibrates the walls from upstairs. A content hum from your lips breaks the silence when he rubs his hand down your spine, nails scratching softly as he goes.

“Yeah, we’re going on dates.” He finally huffs out in a laugh, earning the giggle that he liked so much as his ‘yes.’

#my writing #requests #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fic

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #one shot #secret admirer #fluff #a tiny bit of angst #friends to lovers #feelings realization #feelings confession #pining eddie munson #oblivious steve harrington #mutual crushes #high school au #eddie is in love with steve

[sunkissedrafe]

enemy!rafe >> doesn’t really hate you but fucks you like he does!!

mmm wait this is so yummy

he does everything he can to make your life a living hell. spreads little white lies about having his way with you knowing damn well you hate his guts and wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole. all his boys at the country club only get his side of the story, the one where you bend to his every demand. telling them all how slutty you are. of course when the two of you interact and they see you rolling your pretty eyes in his direction he brushes it off with a “she’s just mad i didn’t give her any dick last night. girl was damn near blue in the face beggin’ me.”

he’s always in your way, always doing anything he can to get a rise out of you.

anytime you step into tannyhill to meet sarah and he hears your sandals smacking against the floor he saunters down the stairs with a grin. sometimes it’s putting things he knows you’ll need on the highest shelf so that he can sneak a peek at your ass when you’re on your tiptoes, your frilly little sundress working in his favor as it rides up. “need some help?” he casually strolls up, hands resting on your waist like it’s nothing. like he can’t feel the anger boiling in your blood.

“no, get the fuck away from me.” you huff and let your heels hit the ground with a thud, and he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s eyeing your tits as they bounce. he doesn’t really care if you think he hates you, all he’s thinking about is the way you’d look laying across his bed for him, pretty eyes rolling in the back of your skull as he fucks you into the mattress.

“fine, get it your damn self.” he walks away but not before giving you a little tap on the ass.

he loves getting under your skin and watching your face as it fills with anger. in a twisted way it turns him on. he knows for sure that you think he’s your sworn enemy, but he really doesn’t have anything against you. you’re just his sister’s hot friend.

he knew it was just a matter of time before you cracked and flew off the handle at him, pounding on his chest and squeaking out every insult under the sun after he ran off a guy you’d finally planned a date with. your little meltdown falls right into his lap, right where he wants you to be. “never wanna see your face again, rafe. GOD you’re such an asshole!” your manicured nails claw at the fabric of his polo shirt.

your brain goes all fuzzy and short circuits when his veiny hands wrap around your wrists with a squeeze hard enough to bruise the skin, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark. “never wanna see my face again, huh?”

you saw plenty of it that night while you bounced on his dick whining and crying to cum. he does a really good job playing the part of the enemy, treating you like a little toy as he lifts you by your hips and fucks you like a fleshlight. “see, just like i told the guys. beggin’ me. for what?” he pants and cocks his head to the side. “all for some dick? little fuckin’ slut.”

definitely cums on your face and takes a picture for safe keeping. you feel degraded, ashamed that you let a man that “hates” you do something like this. ashamed that you want more. he feels like he’s marking his territory.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss

#rafe blurb #outerbanks rafe #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe obx #obx s3 #obx s2 #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron smut

[queenofcoquette]

academic burnout

introduction:

hey loves! recently i've been dealing a lot with burnout. im pretty busy with my schoolwork, studying and water polo practice 2 hours every weekday, and i've just been feeling pretty exhausted. im still getting 8 hours a night but i just feel so tired, so i've been looking into burnout and how to overcome it.

recovery:

get to the bottom of it. try to find the source of your burnout. are you not getting enough sleep? are you studying for insane amounts of time? is it because your goals are too unrealistic?

getting enough sleep. this is easier said than done but during weekends i like to sleep in and even nap sometimes to pay my sleep debt.

taking time to relax/unwind. on the weekends i like to focus on my hobbies- i write, watch movies- but most importantly i just let myself relax and give myself some time to just really do nothing. we can't be productive 24/7!

don't overwork yourself. i know you can't always say no to certain school commitments, but try not to overwork yourself with extra work.

taking a little break. on friday i was so exhausted i just went home instead of going to practice, which i didnt want to do, but i sort of needed it- to have a day to just go home and relax and feel better.

working:

re-think your habits. make studying habits that are more fun and effective.

take breaks. if you're really frustrated while studying, walk away from it and spend 10 minutes doing whatever. i hate putting aside my work, but sometimes i feel so exhausted and it's better to just put it away for a while and then get back to it.

stress-relieving activites. maybe reading, meditation, breathing techniques, etc. try different things and see what helps you relax and feel better.

conclusion:

academic burnout is really a horrible feeling, an its something that can be hard to overcome. as always you should stop yourself from comparing to others, setting goals that're unattainable/unreasonable, and stretching yourself out too thin. i believe in the importance of school but i also know that it's pointless if i'm not motivated enough to work hard. find balance, and with time you'll learn to manage your activities to be succesful while feeling good.

#that girl #queenofcoquette #self improvement #pink pilates princess #coquette #it girl #healthy habits #study aesthetic #studyblr #study motivation #that girl 2024

[wheatnoodle]

robin is using everything in her power to find steve a boyfriend. now that she had finally gotten her head out of her ass to see that nancy didn’t find her rambling annoying, but charming and that got comfy in their new relationship, she wanted nothing more than the same for her best friend.

for too long, robin has stood back and watched as steve got used and played again and again. too many men and women coming around and flashing him pretty smiles and saying all the right things just to take him on a date, get him to drop his pants, and then he’d never hear from them again. she sees the way it effects him, the way he seems to be deteriorating right before her eyes.

he’s given up flirting with the babes that walk in the front door of their job, choosing to stay behind the counter. he leans on his fist, flips through a magazine and only glances up to say hello.

unless, of course, that customer is eddie munson. eddie, who will come in so quiet and lean down in steve’s space to break him from his trance. and steve will smile. and he’ll blush. and he’ll giggle and look away so eddie can’t see how flustered he is. and he waves the late fees every time. and she continues to watch.

robin is using everything in her power to get steve eddie as a boyfriend. sweet eddie who holds the door for steve and makes him smile brighter than robin has ever seen.

and it’s this reason that she was able to convince steve to join her and nancy at a bar in indy and invite eddie along so he “doesn’t third wheel”. meaning it’s also this reason she’s currently tearing apart steve’s closet for the perfect “date me!” outfit. because if he pulls up to this place in a polo and robin’s the one who brought him? she could never go back.

“robs, i can’t wear these.” steve is bright red in the face as he looks over his shoulder in the mirror. she got him in the tightest jeans he owns, the denim light and hugging every single curve from the waist down. he’s lucky he can even breathe in them. he hates how his butt is on display and there’s no room in his crotch to move comfortably and what if his knees get cold where they’re exposed to the outside elements?

“you absolutely can and you absolutely will. turn around and let me pretend you’re a girl so i can drool over your ass,” robin whistles from her place on his bed. she’s surrounded by piles of clothes, a multicolored avalanche of preppy and she just might go insane. “now you need a shirt.”

“i don’t get why you’re putting in all this effort. i’m just gonna embarrass myself in front of him. especially if i try to make a move,” steve grumbles and tugs his current sweatshirt over his head. robin’s got a pair of scissors from his bedside drawer and a clearly well-loved pink floyd t-shirt in hand. “what are you doing?”

“how much do you love this shirt?”

“robin don’t you-“

“how much, steven.” her gaze is firm and he knows it best to just give in. he rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a huff and robin smiles back at him in victory. he’s turned back to the mirror, listening to the sound of slicing fabric behind him.

she tosses it to him once she’s done and he pulls it over his head. dear god his waist is on display. and the trail of hair down to- oh this is humiliating. “robin.”

“steve!” she squeals, clapping her hands together.

“robin,” he whines, throwing his head back and tugging at the jagged edge of the shirt.

“steve!” she answers in the same tone with a bright smile. “you’re so hot! eddie is going to eat you up and if he doesn’t, then somebody else absolutely will.”

“you think so?” steve looks at her through the mirror. a soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips and she can’t help but smile back, full of love and warmth.

“i know so.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #steddie #robin buckley #qpr stobin #platonic stobin #codependent stobin

[steddielations]

Eddie should’ve never taken that loan. It was at the start of his career, he was young and desperate to make it in the industry. It was just to fund his demo tapes but he should’ve known better than to get entangled with the mob, it wouldn’t end there. Once his music took off, they wanted more and more.

Now he has a life, a husband, they’re talking about adopting and Eddie hates himself for keeping this from Steve. He rationalized it, didn’t want to drag Steve into his mess, thought he could keep quietly paying but they want too much now. Eddie’s career isn’t as active anymore, there’s no way Steve won’t notice, they’ll go bankrupt, revealing this secret that he shouldn’t have kept for so long.

He’s gotten a few ominous calls and an unfriendly visitor at the studio that made it clear, they want their money and they’re gonna get it. He has to tell Steve, it’s getting too dangerous. So now he’s sitting across the dinner table from his husband, over a meal so lovingly made for them, about to blow up their life.

“Sweetheart, there’s something—”

There’s a noise outside the window, could’ve just been the wind but there’s more noises, people… footsteps… Eddie grabs Steve, dragging him to the bedroom as he demands to know what’s going on. Eddie tells him everything, in a hushed voice crouching inside their closet with tears brimming, he tells him every lie that’s caught up to them, stained their marriage, apologizes for putting their lives in danger and Steve—

Steve is rifling through the closet, pushing aside clothes to reveal the wall. There’s a compartment behind a painting that Eddie’s never seen. He watches, speechless and shocked to his core as his husband, his kindergarten teacher husband who wears ironed polos and makes dinner every night in a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, takes several lethal looking weapons from the wall and starts loading them up, quick and efficient like a machine.

“Steve, what—”

“You’re not the only one with secrets, love,” he presses a firm, forgiving kiss to Eddie’s forehead and leads him out of the closet, weapon raised, “Now get behind me.”

#Mr and mrs smith vibes anyone? #I always have to make ‘just some guy Steve’ a secret badass sorry #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie au #rockstar eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #rueswriting #stranger things #i’ve had this concept in my mind forever i had to get it out #mp

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 16 - Chéri

Aha, so I went a different route this time and the POVs are all over the place! But I enjoyed how this one turned out. Hit me in all the feels. just a bit angsty but nothing too terrible!

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! much love from me

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Arthur hated the rain. 

Sure, you seemed happy when you danced with P and splashed in the puddles as you waited for the signal for you to get in your car. The smile on your face should have been enough to damper his bad feelings. 

But it was raining. And it was Suzuka. 

He felt heavy as he got ready earlier that morning. The sad smile on Charles’s face hadn’t helped either. They both felt it when their feet touched the asphalt. They felt it as they held onto each other for a little longer than usual before Charles got dressed. 

He tried to take deep breaths before the cameras turned on as he was supposed to help Jensen and Nico with the interviews today. Both ex-drivers seemed to understand the weight that this track had on the younger Monegasque, so they covered the heavier questions. 

Arthur could only be glad that he was technically supporting you today. The navy polo felt itchy on his skin. Sure, he missed the red polo with the yellow symbol, but navy was your color. It helped him feel closer to you, when you were kilometers away in your car. 

He could tell people wanted to ask. He knew they were itching to just say, “How does it feel to be back on the circuit that killed your godfather.” But, they’d never ask, they would just send sad smiles that didn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes. 

Even you, his smiley best friend, could tell something was off. 

Arthur’s hands itched more than the skin under the polo. He would never be able to explain the sensation, but they itched. Maybe he should hold a cold can of Red Bull to cool the burn, but that wouldn’t help. 

His eyes were strained as he watched the data computer in front of him. He checked and checked again. 

Your tires would be fine. There’d be no stray cranes or tractors. The car was safe. 

Well, that’s what everyone told him and Charles 9 years ago.  

You scared him when you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Jumpy today?” you questioned. You were already in your thick race suit, a helmet was in your hands. It wasn’t anything special, just your plain navy and gold one. You had already showed him your special one for Miami. 

He shrugged, not knowing how to answer. “A bit.” 

A sad smile formed on your face. Right now, he didn’t need words. He just needed you and Charles to be safe, and not be in the car this weekend. 

He finally sighed and turned to face you as he took your helmet in your hands. For a moment, he thought about smashing the damn thing, since he knew you didn’t have a backup. But what would be the point. 

He placed the lid on your head, keeping it above your forehead. “Starting pole today?” 

Now your smile was genuine. “Yep! Thur, I have a chance to win this!” 

He tried to mirror the smile, but again, it didn’t reach his eyes. Normally, he’d wait to kiss the “forehead” of you helmet, but today he needed a little something extra. 

Your eyes closed as he leaned in and placed a kiss on your head, almost between your eyes. You placed your hands on top of his, where they were still holding your helmet as a mushroom hat. 

You whispered, “Are you ok?” 

Arthur backed up just a bit. “Like you said, a bit jumpy.” 

Looking back, you knew you should have listened to the warning bells that were going off in your head. Arthur was rarely jumpy. 

And he loved the rain. 

You stepped closer and gave him a hug. Tears might have pooled at his lash line, but he’d never admit to it. He squeezed just a bit tighter before letting you go, so you could get into your car. 

Another hand was placed on his shoulder. His eyes met the figure of Kelly, who was holding P. Her eyes, he thinks, were trying to tell him that you’d be alright. That Charles would be alright. And that nothing would go wrong. 

How wrong she was.

Starting Grid: 

Y/n L/n 

Max Verstappen 

Charles Leclerc 

Fernando Alonso 

Carlos Sainz 

Lewis Hamilton 

Lando Norris 

Lance Stroll 

Oscar Piastri 

George Russell 

Alex Albon 

Pierre Gasly 

Logan Sargeant 

Esteban Ocon 

Yuki Tsunoda

Daniel Ricciardo 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the Japanese Grand Prix. Y/n L/n gets a good start down the first straight with her teammate Max Verstappen right behind her. Charles Leclerc goes wide, trying to gain the position around Verstappen, as the Dutchman is still trying to get the jump ahead on his rookie teammate and does he have it on the first turn? 

“No he does not! Y/n L/n leads the Japanese Grand Prix!” 

Was it normal if his heart was racing just as fast as these cars were? Well, for some fans it would be due to excitement. And, deep down, Arthur was very excited. You were doing everything that you ever dreamed of doing. 

You’d make 5-year-old Y/n proud. 

“Looks like the rain is drying up a bit. We’ll see who gets called into the pits first, and it looks like our race leader has been called in to switch. Now, she started on the intermediates and looks like she’ll be going to the hards. Weird call, but so far this season she has been on the bad end of tyre degradation. So we’ll see if she’ll be able to keep her lead with the hards. 

“Seems as though she has started a train of pit stops and still comes out in P1.” 

Your car was cruising. Yes, your heart was racing, maybe going as fast as your RB20. And it was due to excitement. You were leading, with a comfortable gap. Right now, you couldn’t see anything in your mirrors. 

You pressed your radio. 

“Mitch, what is the gap? And will I be able to take a win or do I need to let Max by?” you questioned. You were hoping that it’d be the first instance. Your maiden race win on your fourth Formula 1 race. What a start that would be. 

Mitch finally answered. “Just talked to Christian. If Max is able to catch you, then you’d need to let him by. But, right now your pace is the same if not faster than his. So, kid, I’d suggest you keep making qualifying laps and you might be a race winner today.” 

“Copy.” 

Your car jerked around a corner as you continued to press. 

You were hungry, starving even, for that win. You’d show everyone who doubted you that you were capable of winning. 

Yet, around the spoon corner of turn 13 and 14, the RB20 slid a bit more than you intended to. 

Your finger flew to the radio button. “Uh, Mitch what was that?” 

Her response was immediate. “Your breaks are a bit hot. I know I told you to push, but please slow down on the turns.” 

“Got it. And who is the car in front of me? Did someone get around or?” 

“That’s Ocon. He dropped down after he pitted and will be a lapped car in about a lap or so.” 

Arthur listened from the pits as Mitch gave you some advice. The first time he saw your car jerk a bit too much, he swore he died right there. He was thankfully given a pair of headphones so that he could listen in on whatever you said. They were uncomfortable, but he’d do anything right now to be closer to you. 

He watched as you got closer and closer to the Alpine. If you got around it, you’d be home free with almost 10 laps to go. 

Your first win. He could almost taste it for you, and he wasn’t even hungry for a victory. And maybe after your win, it’d be a good time for a confession. 

But he had hope that things wouldn’t end like that. 

You’d get a win and he’d get the one thing he’s wanted ever since you scared him at the first meeting. 

“Mitch, he’s braking hard on the turns. Can you please let the stewards know? He’s going to be a lapped car but is defending like he’s in first place.” 

One of the Red Bull engineers immediately got on it. 

“Mitch?” 

Was Arthur hearing things, or did you sound panicked? 

“Yeah Kid? We’re on it about the breaking.” 

“He’s not letting me by! And my breaks are acting weird again.” 

You sounded panicked. Mitch pressed a couple of buttons as Arthur started to nibble on his fingers. 

“Mitch! My breaks.” 

“Kid, they’re overheating. You need to slow down.” 

“Mitch I need to get around him. Seven more laps left.” 

“Kid, I know that, but we don’t need you spinning out.” 

Arthur’s hands began to burn as the itch got worse. 

“He’s going deep. I can go around.” 

“Kid, it’s too risky. Just wait until he’s given a penalty.” 

“I can do it! I’ll be a race winner!” 

“Kid, hold on!” 

“I got it!” 

Arthur’s heart stopped racing. 

“Kid!” 

“L/n tries to go around the outside of Ocon and…” 

Oh.

The sound was silent and deafening at the same time. 

A ringing sound echoed in his ears as he watched your car flip and flip and flip. 

Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Asphalt. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Grass. Sky. Barrier. 

Black. 

The garage was in chaos, but somehow everything was going in slow motion? Arthur just stood still as everyone raced around.  

“That is the Red Bull of Y/n L/n that has gone into the barriers. It seems to be wedged upside down and stuck. Do we have any answer from inside the car?” 

Mitch frantically held down the radio button. 

“Kid answer me? Kid? Come on. This isn’t funny.” 

Arthur just stood still. 

Next to Mitch, GP was on the radio with Max. 

The Dutchman passed the accident site first. 

“Ah, was that Ocon? Serves him right for last week. Gap to Y/n please?” 

“Uh. That is a red flag Max,” GP sighed, “please come back to the pits.” 

“Fine. Tell the kid that we can drink a juice box or something.” 

“Just come in.” 

The rest of the drivers got similar radio messages. 

“Be careful. Red flag, there’s a Red Bull in the barriers Charles.” 

Charles’s heart dropped but he covered it with a chuckle, blissfully unaware. “Max finally made a mistake?” 

There was no answer from Xavi. 

“Red flag, return to the pits Lando.” 

“To the pits please Lewis, there’s a red flag.” 

“George, come in. Red flag is out and you need to get to the pits.” 

“Ah, Daniel, red flag. Back to the pits please.” 

“Oscar, please come to the pits. There’s been an accident and it’s a red flag.” 

“Logan? Pits please, the red flag is out.”

“Arthur!” 

The yell of his name brought him out of his stupor. His eyes met Mitch’s brown ones, where she was beckoning him over. He took the itchy headphones off and all but sprinted over to the pit wall. Immediately, Mitch put her own headphones on his head. 

“Talk to her. Get her talking.” 

It was a command that Arthur would take to heart. 

“Y/n?” Damn it, voice crack. “Y/n, please let me know you’re ok?” 

“It seems as though Arthur Leclerc is trying to get L/n to respond. Is there still nothing? The marshals are over there, and are trying, but she’s not out of the car yet?” 

Max looked around for your matching Red Bull. Two juice boxes were in his hands as he looked for your helmet. Had you gone for another lap on accident? He turned to the red-clad Monegasque who was weirdly frozen next to him. 

“Hey Charles, where’s Y/n…” 

The juice boxes fell to the ground as Max’s attention was now on the big screen that was broadcasting the wreck site. 

Next to him, Charles’s eyes were welling up with tears. His head swerved as he tried to find his brother. Curse him for wearing the dark polo. 

“Hey, Charlie?” 

A voice called for him through the fog, but his brain was hyper-active. Two hands were placed on his shoulders and blue eyes blocked the big screen. 

“She has a halo. Right now, they’re trying to get her out, ok?” Max tried to comfort the Ferrari driver, but was having some issues not crying as well.  

Charles mindlessly nodded. Pierre had come by a few moments later and brought him into a hug. It was then he let the tears fall along with his knees as he dropped to the asphalt. 

Max whispered as tears began to fall. “Come on kid. Just answer please.” His hands were tucked under his face, almost as if he were in prayer. 

Lando and Oscar held on to each other, trying to offer some comfort. Daniel stood behind them, hands at his sides. 

In his mind, he only thought, “Was he going to lose another friend to this track?” 

Charles was still on the ground, being comforted by Pierre as he rocked back and forth. “No, no, no. This cannot be happening again. Pas encore, pas elle. J’ai perdu Jules, je ne peux pas la perdre, Arthur ne peut pas la perdre. S’il te plait, s’il te plait, s’il te plait.” (Not again, no her. I’ve lost Jules, I can’t lose her, Arthur can’t lose her. Please, please, please.”)  

Logan sat numbly on the ground a little ways away. He had gone to get his headphones first thing to block everything out. He would laugh if he could at the next song that played through the speakers, but didn’t. Life is a Highway wouldn’t have the same meaning after today. 

Alex was on the phone with Lily, trying to update his girlfriend. You weren’t close with Alex yet, but he saw how well you treated his teammate. 

Lewis and George were couped up in the Mercedes garage. Lewis had refused to turn around and look at the big screen. Ten years hadn’t even passed since it last took a life and Lewis wasn’t about to see them drag your body from under the wreckage. George was trying to cope. Sunglasses were on to hide his tears and red eyes. 

At this moment, they were all prepared for what was to come: your body draped with a white blanket. 

Arthur was still trying. In this moment, it was just you and him. You were alive, you had to be. 

“Y/n? Please answer me? I-I can’t lose you. Ok? Can’t lose you like Jules. S’il te plait, tu dois aller bien. Nous avons encore tellement de choses a faire. Tu as besoin d’une victoire, et je te dire ce je ressens. Chéri…” (Please, you have to be ok. We still have so much to do. You need a race win, and I need to tell you how I feel.”)

A crackling noise came over the radio, right as he was about to give up. His breath hitched. 

“Y/n?” 

“Heeyyyyy,” you voice sounded. A sob escaped from Arthur’s lips. 

His hands didn’t itch anymore. 

“You are an idiot.” 

A groan left your mouth. “I know. Shit, I’m stuck.” 

Mitch, who now had another headphone set on her head, started to talk. “Ok kid. The RB20 was designed for this. You just have to keep kicking the side.” 

You sighed. “Ok.” 

You managed to scrunch yourself in the cockpit and began to kick. That was the moment that Arthur ran back to the garage. 

“She’s awake and answering!” 

Cheers filled the air while Christian crouched down. 

“Thank God,” he whispered, before standing back up and walking out to the pit lane. 

Kelly was the one to grab Arthur’s shoulder. “Come, I can drive you to the hospital. She’ll need us.” 

With a nod of his head, Arthur grabbed your bag and off he, P, and Kelly went. Vito quickly followed after them, hands full of your documentations and everything you'd need.

On the pit lane, Max watched as the wall of your RB20 suddenly flew away from the car. 

“Charles,” he barely whispered, but the Monegasque heard him somehow and stood up swiftly. A hand grasped his shoulder, and he whipped around to find Christian. 

“She’s ok.”

By now, everyone’s eyes were trained on the car. Marshals swarmed around it, ready for anything. What they didn’t expect though, was for one leg to swing out and then another. By the time they got over their shock, you were already halfway out. They quickly kneeled to help you further. 

“She is out of the car and looks completely fine! She will have to be taken to the hospital. Our calculations are showing that when she stopped, she experienced 54 g-forces. We don’t know if the race will be continued for the remaining 7 laps, but we will keep you updated.” 

Your feet squished the grass as you limped toward the on-site ambulance. You looked around and saw multiple cameras, watching your every move. You were thankful for some of the marshals who tried to push them away. But, in the back of your mind, you knew you needed to let everyone know you were fine. 

So, with a probably sprained ankle, you started to lightly bounce and raise your hands and wave. A few laughs were let out by the people around you. You pressed a finger toward you heart and then lifted it to the sky. 

Charles knew exactly what you were doing. He finally lifted himself off the ground, with Pierre’s help, and did the same motion. 

Thank you Jules. 

Max was back in the garage, now getting ready for the last few laps. He was angry. Honestly, they should just let everyone go, but a race is a race and it’s not completed. 

Mitch and GP came over. 

“Kelly went with Arthur and P to the hospital. She says that she’ll keep us updated,” GP told him. 

Mitch sucked in a breath. “We’ll let you know how she is after the race. And Max?” 

He turned to your engineer. 

“Win for her. Ok?” Tears lined her eyes. 

Max nodded, wanting to win for you. 

He put his helmet on and stalked toward his car. 

“And Max?” This time it was Christian, who had jogged up next to him. Max turned his head, full attention on his team principal. 

“Give Ocon hell for us.” 

Max turned back toward his car, eyes quickly darting to the alpine vehicle. 

Oh, he would. 

Race Results: 

Max Verstappen +25

Charles Leclerc +18 

Lando Norris +15 

Oscar Piastri +12

Carlos Sainz +11

Lewis Hamilton +8

George Russell +6 

Daniel Ricciardo +4 

Alex Albon +2 

Fernando Alonso +1

Logan Sargeant +0 

Yuki Tsunoda +0

Pierre Gasly +0 

Valtteri Bottas +0

Lance Stroll +0 

Kevin Magnussen +0

Nico Hulkenberg +0 

Zhou Guanyu +0 

Esteban Ocon +0 

Y/n L/n – DNF 

Standings after Suzuka 

Max Verstappen – 100 points 

Charles Leclerc – 66 points 

Lando Norris – 42 points 

Y/n L/n – 41 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 32 points 

Oscar Piastri – 31 points 

Carlos Sainz – 28 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points 

George Russell – 20 points 

Alex Albon – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 0 points

Lance Stroll – 0 points

Pierre Gasly – 0 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 0 points

Zhou Guanyu – 0 points

Kevin Magnussen – 0 points

Nico Hulkenberg – 0 points

Valtteri Bottas – 0 points

Esteban Ocon - 0 points

Constructors Standings after Suzuka 

Red Bull – 214 points 

Ferrari – 139 points 

McLaren – 105 points 

Mercedes – 87 points 

Racing Bulls – 36 points 

Aston Martin – 26 points 

Williams – 4 points

Alpha Romeo – 0 points

Haas – 0 points

Alpine – 0 points 

f1 has posted *pretend there are no cars in the back of the second photo*

f1 Y/n L/n is out of the Japanese Grand Prix following a nasty impact! Mechanics who looked at her car found a faulty brake pad that caused an intense lock up on turn 15. The Red Bull rookie would have experienced around 54 G's when her car finally stopped at the barrier. L/n was escorted to the local hospital and was later released today.

liked by y/n_nation, maxiel_lover, iamred_iamyellow, and 94,873 others

y/n_updates I am so thankful that she's ok now, my heart stopped for a few minutes until she got out

y/nxarthur Arthur's and Charles's faces as they were waiting for her to get out, I was sobbing

leclerc4ever well, considering they lost their godfather at this exact circuit almost ten years ago, I felt their pain through the screen thur_thur exactly, Arthur's cries over the radio will haunt me for the rest of my life

box_box_express does anyone know who went with her? obviously the drivers had to finish the race

y/n_nation some sources say that Arthur and Kelly went with her as well as her manager Vito box_box_official thank you!

rb_rookie Red Bull finally released a statement that they will be looking into the faulty part, because apparently Max was also having the same issue

y/n_lover glad our girl is ok, but did anyone see how mad Max was? she locked up because she was breaking too hard behind Ocon. He needs to be stopped because this is Y/n's second impact and its all because of him

f1_fanatic ikr, and he was about to be a lapped car too!

b0x_b0x_nightmare she flipped almost 10 times, she could have died - Jules was definitely keeping her safe (thank you halo)

y/n_marry_me AND THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HER FIRST WIN TOO GRRRRRRRR

f1_gossip has posted

f1_gossip looks like Mad Max is BACK. The dutch driver was seen yelling at Alpine driver Esteban Ocon after the race. Some sources say he was needed to be held back and Ocon had to be escorted back to his own garage. Max also barely responded to any of the post-race media interviews and immediately left after he was done.

tagged: maxverstappen1

liked by max_max_super, f1_fanatic, y/n_on_TOP, and 24,028 others

f1-fan BAHAHAHA I was laughing my ass off when Max was yelling at Ocon because he deserved it

max_max the return of Mad Max (although I wish it was under different circumstances, I feel so bad for Y/n)

lestappenlove I also saw Charles join in on the yelling as well

max&kid well deserved for Ocon. Seriously though, he needs to have like a penalty or something

y/n_fanclub is it bad that I wished Max would have punched him?

max_is_da_best nope, because I think we all wanted that to happen

leclercxverstappen I know for sure that if Arthur was there, he would have gone off too, you don't mess with Y/n and expect to walk away unhurt

max33 he was FUMING

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 everything hurts but pookie made it better with Macas, Cars 2, and the Porsche 911 Lego set - I'll be back, that top step is MINE

tagged: arthur_leclerc

liked by ollibearman, lewishamilton, danielricciardo, y/n_updates and 73,911 others

y/n_nation so happy for the update! we're all so glad that you're ok!

oscarpiastri mad that he got a picture and not me, I was literally also there

logansargeant and I brought your blanket?? y/n.89 but did you bring me macas, my favorite movie, AND legos?

olliebearman that's it mom - I'm coming to visit before you actually die

y/n.89 SON! olliebearman MOM! arthur_leclerc son? olliebearman DAD? maxverstappen1 son?! charles_leclerc dad?! olliebearman grandfathers? landonorris hold-up

y/n_updates POOKIE?? HELLO?

y/nxarthur me rn, having the urge to say something about the word "pookie": STAY IN THE BOX, NO! STAY IN THE BOX, NO!

that_1_y/n_fan I wonder what the doctor said

y/n.89 basically I have bruises in the shape of my seatbelt and a sprained ankle from kicking the side of the RB20 to get out. just some r&r needed before Shanghai! y/n.fan703 oh my gosh feel better!

danielricciardo hope you feel better darl! Heidi and I will be over with some actual food

lewishamilton Roscoe says that you need some snuggles, we'll come over when you tell us to francisca.gomez coming over with pear and some other get better goodies :D y/n.89 I love you all!

maxverstappen1 was the Lego set really necessary?

arthur_leclerc YES y/n.89 YES landonorris YES oscarpiastri YES logansargeant YES maxverstappen1 ok sheesh, sorry

y/n-y/n-fan is no one going to address the middle picture??

author shhhhhhhh (its for the plot)

f1_fanatic Ocon better watch out cause it's on SIGHT

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#arthur leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #platonic grid x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #alex albon x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x driver!reader #formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

oh love, i'm terrified

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is terrifying'

rated t | 1,585 words | cw: negative self views | tags: falling in love, getting together, love confessions, sappy and fluffy

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

He thought he was being obvious.

He doesn't do this stuff for everyone else. He doesn't show up after work to hang out for no reason other than just wanting to be around the other person. He doesn't talk on the phone for three hours in the middle of the night to comfort the other person after nightmares. He doesn't fucking stargaze with anyone.

But with Eddie he does. Steve always goes out of his way for Eddie.

He knows why, and he feels like everyone can see it too: he loves him.

But somehow, Eddie doesn't see it, or chooses not to.

Even Dustin, oblivious to human emotion as anyone else Steve's ever met, pulled him aside after Hellfire one night --yes, he even attends Hellfire now-- to ask if he knew he was flirting with Eddie so much.

Robin and Nancy had called him out on two different occasions for touching him too much in public, but he hadn't even realized his hand had gone to his waist!

And Eddie still seemed clueless.

Or at least, most of the time he seemed clueless.

Sometimes, though, Steve could swear he looked at him in a specific way, a way that Steve would think is understanding and maybe even returned feelings. But he never said anything, never did anything out of the ordinary for Eddie.

Months of wondering what the hell he could do differently, months of being less and less subtle every day, months of showing how much he loved him without actually saying it.

All for Eddie to still be oblivious.

But not tonight,

Tonight, he was going to Eddie's to have dinner and watch a movie. Wayne was on a fishing trip with his buddies from work, and all the kids were at the same summer camp, probably torturing underpaid teenage counselors.

No interruptions were possible.

He could bring out all his moves, and if Eddie still didn't get it by the end of the night, maybe he could even use his words.

"Dinner's almost ready!" Eddie yelled from the kitchen as Steve let himself in. "I didn't burn anything!"

Steve rolled his eyes fondly. "Sounds like something someone who burnt dinner would say."

"I didn't! I mean one edge is a little crispy on the lasagna, but I think that's because our oven is older than Wayne. You think the government could've given us a better oven for my troubles, but apparently not," Eddie turned to Steve standing in the doorway. "You look...nice."

Steve always liked to look nice, but he'd decided to dress up a little bit tonight, try to make his intentions clear right from the start. His hair was done as usual, but he was wearing his khaki slacks instead of jeans and his nicest navy polo instead of the t-shirts he'd mostly been wearing outside of work. He even sprung for his watch that his dad gave him as a graduation gift. He hated to know how much money was wasted on it, but it did look nice.

"Thanks. You do too," Steve replied.

Eddie looked down at his own clothes and back up at Steve. "Dude, I'm wearing sweats and a t-shirt that has more holes than cloth. You don't have to lie."

"I'm not lying. You always look best when you're comfy," Steve shrugged. "Need help with anything?"

Eddie shook his head. "Not unless you wanna grab beers from the fridge. I forgot to get some this afternoon so they're just Wayne's PBRs, but a cold beer's a good beer, right?"

"Right," Steve agreed, walking to the fridge to grab the beers.

Dinner went as dinner usually does, except they actually sat at the table this time instead of the couch. Eddie seemed surprised when Steve set his things down in front of the chair he only sat in to keep Eddie company while he planned for campaigns, but just silently joined him.

They talked and joked, they made themselves laugh so hard beer almost came out of Eddie's nose. It was perfect.

After, Steve started working on the dishes, Eddie standing by the counter watching.

He was quiet, which was unusual, especially when no one else was around to fill the silence.

"Everything okay, Eds?" Steve asked as he scrubbed a particularly difficult area on a fork.

"What? Oh. Yeah."

Steve turned to look at him, suddenly worried when he saw Eddie's face turned down to the floor. This wasn't them. They'd just had a nice dinner, and now Eddie was being...shy?

Now was his chance. He could say it. Robin would be proud of him for finally just doing it.

Hell, he'd be proud of himself for doing it.

But something seemed wrong, and the last thing Steve wanted was to turn a good night bad because he couldn't reign in his feelings for a bit.

He wiped his hands on the towel by the sink and turned fully towards Eddie.

"What's wrong?"

Eddie shook his head once, then sighed. "I kind of feel like I've been wined and dined tonight. And that's ridiculous because you're just one of my best friends, and you're straight, and it's all been in my head for months, but-"

"Woah. Wait." Steve interrupted. "You've been noticing that for months? And you didn't say anything?"

"Well, no. I didn't wanna ruin our friendship because I can't handle my own hopes getting up." Eddie leaned away from Steve further. "I know you don't mean it that way. I don't want you to change anything."

"Eds-"

"And if you do want to, that's fine! Whatever would make you comfortable. I just have to say it's feeling very 'I have romantic feelings' for you territory and I know you don't so."

"Eddie."

"I'm also not good at that though. No one's ever shown interest in me other than one girl in high school who ended up moving away a week later so I didn't even have to break her heart."

Steve crashed his lips to Eddie's, half hoping it would shut him up, and half hoping he would somehow keep rambling. He kind of loved watching him ramble.

It did shut him up. Even when Steve pulled away, Eddie's silence was deafening.

"Sorry. I should've asked if I could first, but I don't think you would have even heard me. Was that okay?" Steve asked.

"Why did you do that?" Eddie sounded heartbroken.

That's not what Steve wanted at all.

"I wanted to. I have wanted to."

"No you don't."

This was not going the way Steve had hoped for. "How would you know I don't?"

"Because I'm me! I'm just the dude who gets the good weed, and says funny shit, and cooks dinner sometimes. I'm not a girl Steve Harrington falls in love with, or even takes on a date. I'm not the type you build a relationship and future with. I'm just the guy who gets to watch everyone else do that. I'm not good for that."

"What the hell do you mean?" Steve was angry now. Who had convinced Eddie he couldn't have good things, couldn't be loved or love someone, couldn't be important? "You're Eddie Munson. You saved us all from an evil wizard dude and nearly died doing it. You're the guy who makes me a sandwich when I come over for Hellfire even though there's strict no eating during the campaign rules because you know I've been working all day and need to eat. You turn all my bad days good, and make my life better just because you're you."

"Steve-"

"My turn." Steve crowded him against the counter, hands cupping his cheeks and eyes boring into Eddie's. "I need you to understand something. I've been trying to show how much I care about you, how much I love you, for months, and I've been thinking I've just been terrible at it. I thought I truly did lose all my charm. I've been pulling all my moves out for you. I was starting to think maybe you just were trying to ignore it all to let me down easy, but it isn't that. It's because you don't see how fucking amazing you are, isn't it?"

Eddie's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Because you are. You're incredible. Maybe the best person I've ever known other than Robin. I find excuses to be near you. I find reasons to talk to you. I didn't even have a nightmare the other night, I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm in love with you. Like, the real stupid, do anything for you even if it hurts me kind. And if you don't feel anything for me besides friendship, I'll leave right now and I'll do my best to get over it so we can be friends."

"And if I do?"

"If you do love me, then you should kiss me."

"I've never kissed anyone."

"That's not true. We kissed two minutes ago," Steve smirked, his heart racing in his chest.

"I'm scared," Eddie's whispered admittance nearly broke Steve's heart.

"Oh love, I'm terrified. Love is like that. But we've faced scarier things, haven't we?"

Eddie's soft lips against his own was the only answer he needed.

Love was terrifying, even for Steve, maybe especially for Steve, who was used to giving a lot more love than he received back. But as they kissed in Eddie's kitchen for seconds that turned to minutes, minutes that turned to hours, they got just a bit less scared.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is terrifying #falling in love #getting together #love confessions #idiots in love

[joshlmbrt]

hi angel, im so excited to read your stories :)

would love to make an angsty Steve x reader request. im forever such a Steve Harrington girl 🥹

an angsty enemies (more like rivals) to lovers. they get roped into the upside down things together, and their mutual love for the kids really brings them together. over the seasons they get closer and closer, silently falling in love. then towards the end, something happens and they all get separated.. and they all think she’s dead? until they’re somehow reunited and realize she’s okay? and Steve’s just a wreck, completely inconsolable thinking that she’s gone. and even more of a mess when he finds out she’s alive?

…or is that stupid… 🥲🥲

Angsty Teens. ( s. harrington x reader )

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; enemies to lovers!!!!, canon compliant, r is dustin’s sibling, r makes a joke about a father leaving during the middle of the night, dustin & erica gets TIRED ( robin enjoys the banter ), they think r is dead, blood, long over-due kissy kiss, sort of changed it a bit - i hope that’s okay! NO ONE DIES! i don’t think there is any use of pronouns, but if there is, let me know!

【𝜗𝜚 an; oh, oh, this is NOT stupid AT ALL!!!! ( no request is ever stupid! ) i was just gonna do 1-3 but then …. i rethought and decided to do all four. i hope you enjoy and this is what you had in mind!!

1983

There’s something about Steve Harrington - Steve ‘King’ Harrington as many people loved to call him - that you hated.

You weren’t for sure what caused this deep hatred. Maybe it was the many girls who he kept wrapped around his finger and he just messed with them, loved to parade it around.

‘Look at me! I have someone, and you don’t!’

Or maybe it was the fact that he used to be your friend and completely ditched you for Thomas Hagan and Carol Michaels.

“Your face is going to get stuck like that.” Eddie notes out loud, a small smirk on his face as he watches your face scrunch up in disgusted as the boy walks past with his goons and the girl of the month.

Nancy Wheeler.

Pretty. Pristine. Good grades. Never in trouble.

Her poor friend Barbra Holland - also known as Barb - was following behind quietly, books tucked close to her chest.

“Shut up,” You grumble to Eddie, slamming the locker door shut. “Hey, Barb!” You wave, giving her a kind smile.

Her head towards yours, waving with a small smile. She continues to follow behind Nancy.

You sigh. “I don’t get why he goes from girl to girl.”

“Well, he seems pretty serious about her.” Eddie shrugs, walking out with you.

“He seemed serious with Vanessa, Tiffany, Erica, Monica, and-”

Eddie clasps a hand over your mouth. You stare at him with wide eyes. “Okay. Okay,” He breathes, removing his hand. “I think I know why you feel this way.”

“What way?” You open the passenger door to Eddie’s van and slips in. He shuts the door for you, jogging to the other side.

He opens the door. “Jealous.”

You sputter on words. “What?! Me? Jealous? You cannot be serious!”

He slips into the car, shutting his door. “You had a small crush on Stevie boy and then - boom - he suddenly gets popular overnight with his big hair and nice polos.”

“Okay, first,” You hold up an index finger. “Gag me with a spoon. Secondly, I am not jealous. I could care less who Steve Harrington dates. He’s just. . . a boy.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I just hate that he leads everyone one, making them think he cares for them, then - bam - he’s gone like a father who leaves in the middle of the night.”

He purses his lips and squints his eyes at you. “I feel like you just related Steve to your father.”

“I did.”

He hums, nodding and turning in his seat. “Alrighty, then.”

ও

NOVEMBER 24TH 1983

There’s a knocking on the door that causes you to flinch and Nancy turn quickly, high on alert.

You’d never guess you’d be fighting faceless monsters with your brother and his small friends, plus Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers.

“You don’t think they knock, do you?” You breathe out, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple.

“Jonathan! It’s me, Steve! I just- I’m not looking to cause any trouble, I just wanted-” Nancy is marching towards the door, opening it only a crack. His bruised face is confused when he sees the girl. “Nance? What-what are you doing here?”

“You need to leave.” Is all she says.

His eyes dart over her face, shaking his head. “What are you doing here? What happened to your hand?” His eyes peek over her head and you gulp once they land on your face. “What’s she doing here? What’s going on?”

He pushes his way in, stumbling a bit. He stands straighter, eyes moving over all the lights in the home.

“What is all this? What’s-”

“Steve,” Nancy says, catching his attention. He looks over at her, holding his hands up quickly.

You quickly step in front of Steve without thinking. “Nancy, what are you-” She cuts you off.

“You need to leave. And now.”

“Nancy.”

“I don’t understand what is going on! You all are acting craz-"

“Nancy!” Jonathan finally catches the attention of you all, he places his finger on his lips. “Listen.” He whispers.

Everyone goes silent, eyes lifting towards the roof.

“This is crazy. . .” Steve whispers to himself. “This is crazy! This is crazy!”

He rushes towards phone, picking it up. Nancy yanks it from his hold, slamming it back down. “Leave. Now. While you have the chance.”

And of course, Steve leaves, the door slamming behind him.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

The lights cut off, before flickering. You freeze, eyes darting around.

“Nancy!” You call out. “I can’t see anything! What’s-” A scream leaves your lips, your legs getting lifting from the ground, the blood flowing down to your head quickly.

“Oh, my god! Oh, no! Please! I don’t want to die!” You didn’t feel like you were going to die, but. . . with these things? You never know.

Your dropped onto your back, your breath being knocked from your lungs. A hand grips your shoulder pulling you up.

“Come on!” A voice eerily similar to Steve yells out. You check over your shoulder, before heat suddenly licks up your body.

You flinch back from the fire, staring down at the flames.

“Do you think it’s dead?” Nancy whispers. Jonathan steps forward, her hand shooting out quickly to grab at his arm.

“I’m just checking.” He says. She nods hesitantly, dropping her hand. He kneels down in front of the trap, watching it bubble.

“I think it’s dead.”

ও

Dustin’s head was laid over on left your shoulder, Lucas’ head occupied your right shoulder. Your arms were fuzzy but you weren’t going to complain.

Happy Will was alright and all the kids were fine. . . besides the poor girl who had grown on you.

Jonathan steps into the room, a small smile on his face. “Guys,” Mike was the only one away, slapping at Dustin’s arm. “Will’s awake.”

Mike stands from the seat, slapping both their shoulders now. You laugh softly, shaking your head as both of them startle awake.

“Come on! Will’s awake!” Mike cheers. Dustin grins, shooting up from his seat, Lucas following behind him down the hall to his room.

You’d go visit him later, allowing the boys to have their own time.

You stand from the seat, yawning as you walk towards the water machine, grabbing a small paper cup and filling it.

“Uh,” There’s a throat clearing behind you and you turn around. Steve Harrington. “Thanks for. . . not letting Nancy shoot me.”

“That’s only because I want to,” You shrug. “Not to help you.”

Lies. It’s still in your nature to care for your old friends and it’s tiring. Especially when they wouldn’t do the same for you.

Except, Steve had taken care of you. Made sure you weren’t eaten.

His lip quirks at the corner and he nods. “Right.”

You nod, lifting the cup to your lips, chugging it all. He nods a bit again, turning and making his way towards the door.

“Uh,” You wipe the corner of your lip off. You watch as he stops and turns towards you. “Thanks, too. I guess. For, uh, saving me?”

He nods and smiles a bit. “Anytime.”

ও

1984

You curse yourself for feeling bad for Steve as he watches Nancy stand next to Jonathan, her hand placed on his head.

He steps towards the back door, sitting down on the small step. You sigh a bit, looking out the window above the sink.

“Go talk to him,” There’s a nudge at your side. You turn and look at Dustin. “You know you want too.” He grins.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t want too,” You grumble, turning away and resting your back on the counter. “Why did you even get Steve in the first place?”

He squints his eyes at you. “You were on a date.”

“So? Couldn’t you have called someone else?”

“He was just there,” He says. “Literally.”

You let out a sigh, looking at your chipped polish. “I come home to you and Steve chopping up cubes of steak. It was weird.”

He rolls his eyes. “Go. He’s. . . he needs a friend.”

“You both are friends now,” You lift a brow at him. “Why can’t you go talk to him?”

“Because you know him better than me,” He shrugs. “Than anyone really. Weren’t you both best friends?”

“Key word: were. We aren’t anymore.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you know him better than anyone.”

You frown - because Dustin is right. The little brother who you had taught to be nice to everyone, kill them wiyh kindness even, was giving you the same talk you’d give to him if it was between him and one of his friends.

You sigh and push yourself off the counter. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to listen to you all the time just because I do this one time.”

He grins cheekily at you, despite all that has happened tonight, and makes his way towards the table and sits down.

You inhale deeply before exhaling, stepping outside now. You shut the door, stepping next to Steve and placing yourself next to him.

You stay quiet, eyes staring at the small building in the back.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know?”

Your head reels back at the bite in his tone, a frown on your face as you turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You rub your lips together, wanting to keep everything in.

“Just because your girlfriend doesn’t care about you anymore, doesn’t mean you can just snap at other people. It’s not an excuse,” You snap back. It was a low blow, really. Especially after learning what actually happened at the Halloween party. You stand from your seat.

“You are not going to speak to me that way. I won’t allow it. I came out here to see if you were okay, but. . . I can see that was clearly a mistake. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Your cheeks are flushed red with anger and you walk past him, your dress hitting your thighs as you make your way towards the back door. He calls out your name, but you don’t stop and listen to him.

You shut the door.

ও

1985

Your head slams into the metal wall, a groan leaving your lips. “Booby trap.” You whisper to yourself.

“What?” Dustin murmured.

You stand slowly from the floor. Dustin stands next to you. “The canisters that Steve pulled out was a booby trap,” You narrow your eyes on him. “Why would you do that?!” You throw your arms up.

“Do you think I meant for us to get stuck down here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Because you never think!”

“Like I wanted to get stuck on an elevator with you!”

“Oh yeah?” Your brows furrow. “I had a date after this and now I won’t be able to go! Because of you pulling out that stupid canister! I mean, really?! Who pulls something out of a box that comes from Russians?!”

Erica leans towards Dustin. “Oh, they hate each other.” She whispers.

Dustin shakes his head, Robin does as well. “No, they don’t.”

“It’s the angsty teen, enemies to lovers plot.” Robin whispers, fingers giddily fiddling together. Erica furrows her brows. Robin cuts her eyes over to the confused girl. She then quickly looks back. “You’ll understand when you read Pride and Prejudice.”

“Pride and what?”

“Prejudice. It’s a-" Robin looks at Erica who has a brow lifted. She stops, lips rubbing together. “I don’t have time to describe it.”

Erica hums, turning towards you and Steve once again. “You know what,” You grumble. “I’m through with arguing with you! You never change!” You throw your arms up, stepping towards the center of the room.

“Dustin,” You say his name. He’s standing next to you in an instant. “Help me up there. I’m going to see if we can climb our way out of this. . . this literal hell. Especially if it has him in it.” He nods and pulls a chair over. You step on top of it, reaching up and pushing the tile up and over. You grip the sides, grunting as you pull yourself up.

You slide back before standing up, pushing your hair back as you stare up, hands on your hips.

You sigh and close your eyes.

You’re all stuck there.

ও

Your forehead is resting on your knees, eyes closed as you rest on top of the elevator.

It had been quiet the whole time, Dustin trying to get ahold of anyone. But of course, no one was answering.

You almost cry at the feeling of being stuck.

You feel someone’s knee bump into yours, and you know who it is before they even speak.

“Are you, uh, okay?”

You huff out a small laugh. “Oh, yeah,” You nod, lifting up your head. “Perfect. I love being stuck in an elevator with no way out.”

He looks down, fingers intertwining together. “It is my fault. I’m sorry.”

You sigh a bit, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault,” It pains you to say it, but it’s right. It’s not his fault that he pulled out a canister filled with mystery green goop. “We just know now that Russians can’t build elevators now.”

He snorts. “That’s exactly what I said.” You smile a bit.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean what I said,” You let out a sigh. “I was just. . . angry.”

He nods a bit. “I understand,” He pushes a hand through his hair. “I promise to listen to you next time.”

You lift a brow. “Oh, that’s going to be so hard for you, Harrington.”

He nods and scoffs. “Definitely.” You give him a small smile.

Your heart feels a bit warm at the interaction.

ও

1986.

“Steve!” Dustin cries out, his knees digging into the unnatural ground. “She’s. . . She’s not waking up!”

Steve drops the bags, Nancy almost stumbling over the thing before coming to a stop. He jogs over, dropping to his knees.

The color had drained slightly causing Steve to worry. “Okay, move.” He pushes at Dustin’s hands. Dustin looks up at him with a worried express, tears falling down his cheeks and onto your shirt.

“What are you going to do?”

“CPR.” He nods, his hands moving onto your chest.

“You-you know how to do CPR?” Dustin’s voice wavers. Steve nods, huffing as he mutters numbers. He leans down over your mouth.

He lifts back up, pumping once again. After four times, tilts your head back, unhinging your jaw more. His lips press to yours, blowing into your mouth.

Dustin’s eyes dart between you both, eyes wide with worry. Robin, Nancy, and Eddie stand behind him watching.

There’s a deep greedy inhale that has Steve pulling back, allowing you to breath in the air. He pulls you up, hand pushing back your hair.

“Hey, hey. . . God,” He mutters to himself. His hand trails down your back. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Dustin throws his arms around your neck. You wrap an arm around his side, patting his back. “Steve saved you.”

“What?” You pull back.

“I didn’t.” Steve quickly denies, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie shakes his head. “You absolutely did.”

“No, I-”

“Could everyone give Steve and I a minute please?”

Everyone’s eyes dart to you. “You’re not gonna kill him are you? We just literally survived this whole thing.” Eddie shakes his head.

“No, I’m not. Now please, give me a minute alone with Steve.” They nod, making their way towards the trailer.

“Look, I’m sorry about mouth to mouth. I had too, you were-"

“Steve,” You cut him off. “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“Why would I be mad about you saving me?”

“Because you. . . hate me?”

You let out a small sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?”

“I did,” You say. “But not anymore.”

He smiles a bit, pushing some of the strands of hair that had fallen back to your face. “I’m glad.”

You stare up at him quietly, moving to your knees in front of him. He gulps slightly.

You press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth, hands moving up to cup his face. “Thanks for saving me.”

His own hands press to yours on his cheeks. “Anytime.”

You grin and lean in again, pressing your lips fully to his this time. He gladly allows you.

Robin grins as she peeks through the window with Dustin.

She leans closer. “Told you.” She whispers.

Dustin makes a face and looks over at her. “Told me what?”

“Pride and Prejudice, my tiny friend.”

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, feedback, likes, & reblogs are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!ও

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #joe keery x reader

[mitsuyeaah]

STRAWBERRIES & CREAM

SANZU HARUCHIYO x f! reader

“if i’m dreaming don’t wake, don’t wake me up from you in that sundress, here in that sunset.”

cw: modern au, sundress season with sanzu, fluff, nsfw (mdni), smut, pwp, oral (f receiving), food play, unprotected sex, creampie, clit slapping (brief), multiple orgasms (f), pet names (baby), swearing, sanzu being down bad for reader for wearing a sundress.

word count: 5.9k

a/n: my entry for The #SummertimeMadnessCollab event by @saccharine-darlin !! thank you for this awesome event! happy happy birthday to my one and only, haru <3

The hot summer wind danced around your figure, the smooth fabric of your pink sundress flowing with the breeze. You were surrounded with hues of green and red, the blazing sun in all its glory amongst the vast azure sky—not a single spec of cloud in sight; the buzzing of insects and trees waving at one another filled your ears as you wandered down the never-ending strawberry fields. Rows and rows of green and red stretched across acres of land which brought joy to your heart, like a child discovering a sweet treat for the first time.

“Maybe I should’ve stayed at home.” Your boyfriend hissed, swiping a slender hand across his neck, attempting to wipe away the thin layer of sweat that has formed there. Rosy strands of his shoulder-length mullet uncomfortably stuck to the sides of his neck, his fringe slightly sticking together just above his aquamarine eyes and thick lashes, a slight scowl forming upon his pretty face. You whipped your head over to where he stood, turning your torso as you looked over your shoulder, “Oh, lighten up, would you?” You chuckled from underneath the brim of your straw hat.

Before Haruchiyo could say anything, another tropical breeze danced around the two of you, this time, lifting the hem of your dress a little too high for his liking. He leaned over and jutted an arm out, catching the fabric in his hand and smoothed it down your legs before any prying eyes could wander above your knees— parts of you that only he could see and touch.

You gave him a sheepish smile as you held the fabric against your thighs, he could only shake his head and give a small chuckle, turquoise eyes becoming a shade lighter underneath the sun as he looked up at you. His cheeks were almost the same colour as his hair, a droplet sweat rolling down the side of his face. Feeling sorry for your boyfriend, you grabbed the white strawberry-filled bucket that hung from his forearm and placed your straw hat on the crown of his head.

“We’ll fill this up a little more, then we can go.” You wiped the sweat that rolled down the side of his face with your thumb and ventured further down the field, following the narrow path underneath your shoes.

His heart skipped a beat at your little gesture, the familiar warmth spreading across his sweaty chest as he surveyed the back of your figure. God, you always managed to make him fluster at the smallest things, the two of you have been in a relationship for quite a while now and not once did you not make his heart flutter with something as innocent as that, not that he was complaining though.

You were cute.

He looked at the way your pink sundress swayed around your knees, the fabric peppered with little red strawberries to match today’s activity—strawberry picking. How did you manage to look so heavenly under this scorching heat? Meanwhile, Haruchiyo looked like he just ran a marathon from the way his white polo shirt clung to every part of his torso, pants becoming uncomfortably tight around his legs the more time he spent under the sun.

Haruchiyo hated sweating but for you, he’d endure it.

He knew how fond of strawberries you were and so was he but he’d rather be in the comfort of his own home, eating them without having to break a sweat and practically bathing under the tropical weather. Plus, he loved your strawberries and cream cheesecake—luckily enough, his birthday was tomorrow and you had suggested to bake his favourite cheesecake flavour. Although, he didn’t expect the part where the two of you had to pick fresh strawberries for his cake.

You opted for strawberry picking instead of store-bought ones since it brought joy to you; the feeling of wandering around the endless fields of green and the faint scent of strawberries filling your nose. Even though Haruchiyo urged you to just buy from the store, the experience was still different and plus, it was time to get some much needed vitamin D, per your words—to which he responded by saying you could get vitamin D from another source, earning a slight smack from you.

Nonetheless, it was perfect. The cold dessert was just what he needed after being out in this scorching heat. He couldn’t wait to dig into the sweet treat and feel the coolness of the cake against his tongue, the bursting flavours and strawberries and cream melting in his mouth.

Feeling much better, the two of you sat on a wooden bench under a parasol with the strawberry-filled bucket resting on the table. After picking strawberries, Haruchiyo suggested grabbing strawberry ice cream that the farm had; he’s a sucker for these since they used fresh strawberries from their farm.

You softly chuckled at the man sitting across you eagerly licking at the sweet treat, the slight scowl that he held underneath the blazing sun no longer evident on his face, instead it showed pure content. The breeze was also cooler under the shade, rosy strands no longer uncomfortably sticking to his neck and his shirt didn’t cling to every part of his torso anymore. You met his aquamarine gaze as he looked up at you from under the thick layers of lashes, “Why are you laughing?” Genuine confusion was now plastered on his face, brows knitting together underneath his blush-coloured bangs.

“You’re cute.” Embarrassment filled his whole body, hands ever so slightly tightening around the waffle cone. Haruchiyo was never the one to know how to act when receiving compliments. Yes, he complimented you a lot, endless praises spilled from his lips very easily but when he’s on the receiving end, he doesn't know what to do. In your opinion, that’s what made you fall for him harder—the way his cheeks turn crimson red and his shy turquoise eyes avoid your gaze.

Before he could even process your compliment, you made a small noise out of surprise as you felt the melted pink liquid make contact with your index finger. Haruchiyo watched as you placed the ice cream on your other hand, lips encasing around the digit that was stained with the melted substance. His keen eyes followed the way your tongue darted out to lick a long stripe from the cone and up to the ice cream itself, following the trail of the melted ice cream.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his cerulean eyes following your tongue’s every movement. An action so innocent yet it flipped a switch inside him, rather quickly, even. Hell, who was he even lying to, he has been on edge ever since he saw you in that goddamned dress. The way the thin fabric effortlessly cascaded down to your knees, and the low neckline of it, deliciously exposing your collarbones. Haruchiyo wasn’t worried about other people looking at you because he knew you were his and he was yours. Goddamnit he was the only one hitting that, and no one else.

God, the way the dress hugged your body in all the right ways made him lose his mind. He has never wanted to rip the clothing off of you as quickly as you put it on but alas, you guys had plans for the day. In all honesty, he was ready to go home and take you right then and there, maybe even keep the dress on while he pounds into you; the neckline yanked down to expose your breasts. But, his deepest desire can wait. He’ll have to behave, for now.

“What’s on your mind, Haru?” His heart skipped a beat at the nickname; you always called him ‘Haru’ but his mind suddenly went elsewhere. How cute would you look as you call him by his nickname while his cock is sheathed inside you, and to top it off, your strawberry dress hiked above your hips as he gives it all to you. It may be his birthday today but you deserve all the pleasure he’s about to give you once the two of you get home.

Haruchiyo shook his head and mumbled a ‘nothing’; before he knew it, the two of you were back home, a bag of strawberries in hand. He gently placed the bag atop the kitchen island before pulling you in for a deep kiss. His lips tasted like strawberries, just like you expected. A hand cupped your cheek which allowed him to deepen the kiss, his lips were full of want as it  moved desperately against your own. Haruchiyo didn’t shy away from shoving his tongue past your lips as you parted them to let out a muffled whimper.

You stood there, trapped between his body and the kitchen island, and all you could do was grip the collar of his shirt. “Mhm.. Haru, I still have to make the cheesecake.” You let out a sigh of content as Haruchiyo moved from your lips, trailing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, and down the side of your neck. A light sheen of sweat coated your skin but he didn’t care, he could handle a little sweat. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, earning a small moan from you. “Baby, you can do that later.. I want you all to myself.” Haruchiyo furrowed his brows as you breathlessly laughed at his reply.

“It’ll be quick. Plus, what’s a birthday without a cake?” “Hmm, the cake I need is right here, though.” He wrapped his arms around you to grope at your ass, causing you to yelp. Your eyes widened, meeting his aquamarine ones which were full of mischief. “Haruchiyo.” You lifted a brow at him, the smugness in his face slowly disappearing before defeatedly raising both arms in the air and walking towards the living room.

“I love you!” You called out to him from the kitchen. “Whatever.” Haruchiyo playfully grumbled from the living room. You shook your head and chuckled but before you could do anything else, he piped up again. “I love you.” A smile crept up to your lips, unable to bite it back. He was adorable to say the least, and you couldn’t have asked for more when he gave you his heart.

Throughout the entire time you prepared the cheesecake, Haruchiyo stood by the island counter. Pools of aquamarine never leaving your figure as you paced back and forth around the space. You’ve made this dessert countless times for him but he never fails to watch every single time, and despite watching it all, he has never jotted down a single process in mind. If he was being honest, he was running impatient. His cock grew harder with every passing minute, straining his pants; Haruchiyo couldn’t help his mind wandering to various things he’d do to you once you were done.

It also didn’t help how you decided to keep that goddamned sundress on while making the cheesecake. You were teasing him. He knew how much that dress drove him crazy, how it made him absolutely lose his mind. Haruchiyo watched the way you wiped your finger on the side of the bowl to gather the cream you’ve made and bring it up to your lips, sucking on your index finger. Fuck, the way your lips moulded around your digit, and the way you let go of it with a ‘pop’ pushed him to the edge.

Haruchiyo pushed himself off the kitchen island to make his way to you. You were finishing the last few touches for the dessert, decorating the top with freshly cut strawberries just like how you and Haru liked. Almost dropping a strawberry at the presence behind you, you let out a small yelp as he caged you in between the counter and his body. Haruchiyo placed his hands on your hips, pulling them back a bit just enough for you to feel his clothed hard on.

“‘M getting impatient, baby. Can’t let the birthday boy wait for too long, right?” He dipped his head to kiss the junction of your neck, earning a small sigh from you. Resting your head against his shoulder, his lips wandered further as you gave him more access—leaving trails of maroon and dark purple. “W-wait, Haru. Let me just put this in the fridge–ah!” A yelp slipped past your lips as he ground his clothed cock harder against your ass.

Everything became a blur after the dessert was stowed away in the fridge. Haruchiyo had you bent at the hips, your torso against the kitchen counter as he hiked your sundress up to reveal your ass. “Hmm.. so perfect for me.” He gave it a little slap before massaging the spot, earning a moan from you before nudging your legs wide open. As he kneeled, he yanked your soaked panties down so that your wet cunt was in perfect view right in front of his face. 

A loud whine slipped past your lips as Haruchiyo sucked on your wet entrance—the sounds that came from him were rather lewd given as to how hard he was sucking. The loud erotic sounds bounced off the kitchen walls, and went straight to your ears; it wasn’t like it was your first time being eaten out by Haru, it was just that the sounds never failed to make you flustered, especially with the way he hummed against your cunt like it was the most satisfying meal he’d had all day.

“H-Haru! Aah, slow down!” Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter, legs threatening to give up as Haruchiyo pushed his face further between your legs. “How can I hold myself back when you taste this good, baby?” He mumbled into your bare skin before shoving his tongue past your folds, earning a loud whimper from you. Your cheeks warmed at the way Haruchiyo’s tongue felt inside you, and the way his lips sucked at your entrance—it hit all the right places within you, and you swore you could almost see stars. “Haru! Fuck..!” Your knees buckled at the never ending stimulation at the apex of your legs.

Despite being not much of a talker, Haruchiyo was definitely skilled with his tongue in other ways—ways that would bring tears of pleasure to your eyes without a doubt. Your forehead met the cool marble top of the counter as his fingers rubbed fast, tight circles at your clit; your mouth parted but no sound came out. You could feel your head spinning from the amount of bliss you felt at this very moment; oxytocin coursed throughout your body as Haruchiyo didn’t falter with his movements.

Knees buckling, he tightened his grip around your legs to keep your lower half from meeting the tiled floor. Your stomach tingled, all the way to the tips of your digits as your sweet release was right around the corner—soft pants turned into hard, high-pitched breathing mixed with attempts of crying out Haruchiyo’s name as you neared your orgasm. “Haruuuu~ F-fuck, I’m cumming–ngh! Aah!” Your nails painfully dug into the hard material of the countertop as your orgasm hit you hard; the intense pleasure shot up your spine as your whole body trembled, the blissful sensation engulfing you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you finally let go, cumming around his tongue as the building knot in your stomach snapped. Haruchiyo hummed against your pussy, sending more vibrations up your spine. He rode out your orgasm with his fingers still mercilessly stimulating your clit, and his free hand snaking around your front to play with your hardened bud, pulling a loud yelp from you. He sloppily licked up all your cum, hums of satisfaction leaving his lips as he cleaned you up. Your back arched at the feeling of the heightened pleasure, whining as Haruchiyo pushed you to overstimulation. Reaching a shaky hand behind you, you tugged at his rosy strands, trying to push him off your cunt before cumming around his tongue again.

Haruchiyo laughed at your cute attempts to get him off but he obliged but not before placing a chaste kiss on your throbbing entrance and standing up. He pulled your trembling torso against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down your waist before whispering close to your ear, “Hmm.. you know what’s making me act this way, huh?” Shivering at the way his breath fanned at your skin, you shook your head no. You didn’t trust your words at the moment since your mind was long gone and fogged with thick clouds of lust. Nothing else.

Your boyfriend let out a saccharine laugh, his hands snaking around you to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of the sundress. “This. Fucking. Dress.” Haruchiyo harshly yanked down the top part of your dress with every word that came out of his mouth to expose your torso. He pressed his nose against the side of your neck, inhaling you intoxicating sent, “Fuck. I have been losing my mind since this morning. Ever since I saw you in this goddamned dress, I just wanted to bury myself in you right away.. You’re such a tease, huh..?” Haruchiyo skillfully removed your bra and tossed it somewhere in the kitchen, making a soft thud as it hit the tiled floor.

He wasn’t lying. As innocent as you looked in that sundress, he couldn’t help but think of every nasty thought that came into mind—it wasn’t his fault that you looked absolutely stunning with that dress on. You knew Haruchiyo had a thing for clothes that matched his rosy strands, especially if it accentuated your body in all the right ways, bringing out the most beautiful parts of you—though, he thinks that every single part of you is beautiful. He has been trying to keep his cool for the entire time in the strawberry fields. It also didn’t help how the flimsy material of your dress danced around the wind, hiking up your legs to reveal your delicious thighs.

Fuck, if Haruchiyo had the opportunity to take you right then and there back when the two of you were in the fields, he would have. He wouldn’t hesitate, not one bit. You were just so goddamned beautiful that he had to show you how much he loved every single bit of you. Breathtaking, to say the least. Sometimes he’d mentally curse himself for thinking of such lewd thoughts when you’re just standing there looking so innocent, so perfect but he knew you better than anyone. You loved to rile him up, and today was one of those days.

“Mhm—ah! R-really..? I knew you’d love it, Haru.” A smirk crept its way up to your lips, your voice shaky from your previous orgasm. Haruchiyo clicked his tongue, he wasn’t surprised that you specifically wore that dress to tease him. He absolutely loved it when you made efforts to rile him up, it was cute because he knew damn well it worked on him every single time. “Tsk. Wearing this just to tease me? How naughty, my baby.” You let out a moan as he massaged your breasts—Haruchiyo loved the way his large hands easily fit to cup at your mounds, like they were specifically made for your chest. 

Arching your back, you replied to him with a whimper, “Ngh! Well, I have to treat the birthday boy somehow, right—ah!” The chuckle that slipped past your lips abruptly turned into a full-blown moan as he pinched at your nipples, gently rolling them in between his digits, causing goosebumps to form under his lewd touches. “Always so good f’me my baby, aren’t you?” Haruchiyo trailed a hand up to your chin to angle your head towards him to kiss you. You moaned against his lips as he bucked his groin against you, rubbing it hard enough to feel the entirety of his length between the valley of your ass.

He chuckled at your attempts to form coherent sentences after pulling away from his lips, something along the lines of wanting his cock inside you. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth before letting it go to place a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth. Haruchiyo skilfully turned you around so that the two of you faced each other; his eyes wandered across your bare chest, mouth watering at the way your breasts spilled from the neckline of the dress that’s been messily pulled down.

Haruchiyo marvelled at the way they looked, so tender, and plump from how he had been massaging them earlier. Fuck, he’s always had a thing for your chest. You furrowed your brows as he reached for something behind you, the glass bowl loudly scraping against the marbled countertop as he brought it closer to the two of you. “Since you don’t need this anymore.. Let’s not have the leftovers go to waste, hm?”

You blinked up at his aquamarine gaze, so full of mischief and slyness as he held the large glass bowl in his hand and the silicone spatula on the other. You watched as he scraped the spatula around the bowl, getting every bit of the cream you made earlier for the cheesecake and dropping it directly on your bare chest. A gasp left your lips as you were met with the cold cream against your warm skin.

It was a new sensation indeed but not weird enough to have you recoil. As a matter of fact, you kind of liked it despite knowing how much of a sticky mess it’d leave you—not like you haven’t felt that before, though. You and Haruchiyo were new to this whole thing, bringing food into sex; you never really thought of it as food and intercourse doesn’t sound as pleasing as it seems but now that you were experiencing it first hand, you didn’t mind at all. As long as it stayed away from your cunt.

Haruchiyo’s eyes were practically gleaming as he finished layering your breasts with cream—he was like an artist admiring his greatest masterpiece. “You’re so beautiful..” He let out a dreamy sigh and gave your lips a small peck before eagerly dipping his head below your chin to lick the sweetness off your chest. Your palms dug into the edge of the countertop, gripping them for your dear life as Haruchiyo licked a long stripe between the valley of your breasts, the sweet substance gathering at the tip of his tongue, all while holding your gaze—aquamarine eyes fixated on yours, like it was made just to look into your eyes and nothing else.

You let out a shaky breath as he stood up right, immediately resting a hand on your nape to pull you into a slow, sensual kiss. You hummed in delight as Haruchiyo didn’t hesitate to shove his cream-coated tongue past your lips, the sweetness of it dancing on your tastebuds. The kiss was messy, the sweet substance coating his and your lips which left wet, sticky trails around your mouths. He groaned into your mouth before swiping his tongue at your bottom lip, and kissing the corner of your mouth to clean up the mess he has made.

At this point, your head was spinning. Fuck, you wanted him so bad. The way Haruchiyo took his time to appreciate every single part of you left you breathless—your chest heaved up and down as you stared into his eyes with desperation. He was always like this, worshipping your body to the point where it drove you absolutely crazy; it may seem filthy and lewd to others with how he worshipped you but you loved it. Oh, you loved it a lot. It made your heart sing for his name, and every cell in your body yearned for no one but your lover standing right in front of you.

He placed his hands on your waist—the sundress still clinging to the lower part of your torso as he dipped his head into your chest once again, this time going for a breast. Biting back a moan, you threw your head back at his wet tongue languidly circling your sensitive nipple, rounding your back at the overwhelming sensation of his mouth, torso ever so slightly jerking. You tugged at his rosy roots as Haruchiyo gently bit at the supple flesh of your breast, it didn’t hurt, it was just the right amount of pleasure to send your mind in a frenzy.

Haruchiyo eagerly lapped up every single cream-covered spot on your chest, earning him whines and whimpers from you as you tugged at the rosy tufts of hair. He had his gaze on you the entire time, admiring all your  reactions under his tongue that your body had to offer him. You were cute—the way you let out short, shallow pants as he keenly sucked on your sensitive skin, the way you bit your lip as he swiped his tongue under your breast, and the way you looked at him with such adoration and lust; your brows knitted together in pleasure, lips slightly parted to whisper his name like a prayer.

Your front was left in a sticky, wet mess from Haruchiyo’s tongue; it was so naughty but you loved every bit of it. The way his tongue left messy, wet trails all over your body had shivers running down your spine, and the way his lips circled against the supple skin of your chest to suck it dark red, and purple left you breathless. He kissed every love bite that peppered your front, one so gentle and chaste that earned sighs of contentment from you, a contrast to what he was previously doing before, which pulled shameless moans past your swollen lips.

He turned you around once again, hips pressing against the edge of the marbled counter as he left open-mouthed kisses down your bare back, goosebumps forming under each wet kiss. “Haah~ Haru..” Haruchiyo hiked the dress up to your lower back, exposing your bare ass; he gave it a slap before grabbing the back of your right knee to prop it atop the cool surface of the counter. You braced yourself against the countertop, palms planted on the cool surface and back pressed against his chest. The sound of his belt unbuckling could be heard, the loud clang of the metal part startling you a bit as it met the tiled floor.

Haruchiyo didn’t bother stepping out of his pants as it pooled around his feet, and hastily pulled his underwear down, sighing as his cock was finally freed from its suffocating confines. He hissed as he circled his hand around his throbbing cock, languidly stroking it and using the bead of pre cum from his pink tip to lubricate his cock—it sat heavy in his hand, the way it pulsed like it had a heartbeat of its own, so eager and so ready to be buried inside you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, running the blunt tip of his cock along your wet entrance, pulling a desperate moan from you.

A small chuckle left his lips. Haruchiyo figured he’d been teasing you enough, plus, he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. The both of you let out a moan in unison as he pushed his cock past your wet folds, his length easily slid inside you due to your previous orgasm—the sound was wet and lewd, the way it squelched as he pushed his hard cock into you, your cum from earlier running down the inside of your legs as Haruchiyo filled you up with his dick. Your hands–which were previously flat against the countertop–balled into fists, nails uncomfortably scraping the cool surface. With your leg propped on top of the counter, it drove his cock deeper inside you.

A string of profanities eagerly left his lips. He let out hard pants like he’s just run a marathon—his face right beside yours as his chin rested on your shoulder. “Mhm..! So perfect f’me.. All mine.” He stilled his hips as the entirety of his length was sheathed in you, Haruchiyo knew you didn’t need time to adjust to him, no—you took him like a fucking champ every single time but he was the one who needed time to adjust. The way your walls hugged him tightly made his head spin, it also didn’t help how you had a habit of clenching around him once he was fully inside you.

He gritted his teeth as your walls clamped down on him for a few seconds, eyes glued shut in pleasure. “F-fuuuck..! Baby—haah! I might just cum if you keep doing that—ngh!” The grip he had on your leg tightened as he let out another moan; Haruchiyo let out a breath he’d been holding as he felt you relax around him, whispering sweet praises against the side of your neck before finally moving his hips. His free hand supported his weight by gripping the edge of the counter, effectively trapping you in between.

The pace he had set was relentless and merciless—just how you liked it. Short, high pitched moans left your parted lips as you closed your eyes shut, focusing on the way the tip of his cock deliciously kissed your cervix again and again. Haruchiyo knew your body like the back of his hand, he knew the certain angle that would absolutely drive you crazy, he knew which buttons to press to help you reach your orgasm quicker.

The sound of skin slapping and squelching bounced around the walls of the kitchen as Haruchiyo’s hips made constant contact with your ass—he watched the way your ass moved with every hard thrust he gave you, jolting your body forward and placing a dull pressure on your hips. He could feel your cum from the orgasm earlier drip down to his heavy balls, making a complete mess as his skin slapped against your own.

Your whole body shook from the way he pounded into you, moan after moan leaving your lips after trying to form at least one coherent sentence. “Shit.. Look at that..!” Haruchiyo let out an erotic gasp as a white ring formed at the base of his cock from how wet you were, this riled him up even more; the hand that gripped the counter made its way to your front, and down to your clit to draw figures of eight with his ring finger. You moaned at the heightened pleasure, arms giving up on you and before you knew it, your front was met with the cool surface of the countertop.

Haruchiyo used your bent figure as leverage to drive his cock deeper into you, standing at the ball of his feet and angling his hips higher. You could feel the back of your eyes heat up as tears threatened to spill, “Ah! Ah! Ngh—aah! Haru..!” Your back arched, deliciously pressing against the counter as he slapped your clit. This caused your knee to buckle, your lower half to almost meet the floor if it wasn’t for your other leg on top of the counter, and Haruchiyo’s arm snaked around you.

He grunted right by your ear with every thrust of his hips, his body molded against yours, his own hips bent as he pressed his chest to your clothed back; he knew how much the sounds he made turned you on—the way his erotic sounds flew right to your cunt to make you even wetter. “A-aah! Shit..! That’s it baby—ngh!” He groaned as he felt you squeeze around him.

It was truly a sight to see. The way your sundress barely covered you; the neckline yanked below your breasts and the skirt of it hiked up to your lower back as Haruchiyo mercilessly dicked you down. It didn’t even serve as an article of clothing anymore, no; now, it just looked like a reminder of what caused your boyfriend to be this crazy about you. It was like some kind of medal that you wore as he fucked you senseless, a piece of fabric covering your middle while the rest left you fully exposed.

The contrast between the pink blush of the sundress, and the strawberries that peppered the fabric and the way Haruchiyo was pounding into you was almost laughable. A piece of clothing, so simple, so innocent yet driving him insane like this—as the saying goes, less is more. Your leg that was atop the counter started to become numb, your foot tingling, and thighs burning as it kept that position but you didn’t care. Not when he was fucking you this good.

“M—aah! C-cumming, Haru..! S-shit!” You moaned, your fingers painfully digging into your palm from the immense pleasure that was starting to course throughout your body. Your boyfriend buried his face in your hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo before letting out a heated gasp as you clenched around him. He gave your nape a few kisses here and there, whispering such dirty things against your sweaty skin to help you reach your orgasm. The way his balls messily slapped against your clit, and the way his cock bullied your insides was enough to get you over the edge.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you let out a shameless moan, face contorted in nothing but pure bliss. You trembled as your second orgasm rocked through your body; tears streaming down your heated cheeks, knuckles white from balling your fists, and back arched from the immense pleasure. Haruchiyo did his best to keep thrusting despite your walls tightening around him to the point where it was almost pushing him out. “Ngh—ah! T-that’s a good girl..!” He sucked at the skin on your upper back, helping you ride out your orgasm to the fullest.

High-pitched whimpers escaped you as he pounded away at your cunt, trying to chase his own sweet bliss. Haruchiyo let out one last grunt before stilling his hips and stuffing his cock deep inside you to blow his load. “Aaah~ Ye–eaah..! Fuckin’ take it all—haah!” You gasped as you felt his hot cum paint your insides white, stuffing you to the brim, some of it dripping out and down your left leg, as well as down his balls. Haruchiyo stayed like that for a while, trapping you between his body and the countertop as he came.

Before your body could relax against the marbled surface, your muscles tightened as your boyfriend started to fuck his cum deeper into you. Since the entirety of his length was already sheathed inside you, he gave you quick, shallow thrusts, allowing his cum to reach you deeper while some of it messily spilled out and dropped onto the tiled floor. “Aaah! Shit..” Your body jerked with oversensitivity as his hips didn’t once falter. “Mhm~ That’s r-right.. Take all of me and make sure it doesn’t spill out, huh?” He panted against your ear, kissing it before slowly pulling out of you, earning a whine from the both of you.

“Mmm. Maybe I should keep wearing sundresses like this..” You breathlessly chuckled, stumbling into his chest as you took your leg off the counter to face him. Haruchiyo wrapped his arms around you—his cheeks were tinted pink, hair stuck to his forehead and neck, and eyes blown with lust, god, he looked handsome while fucked out. “‘M not complaining, baby. It is my birthday after all.. Maybe another one tomorrow. I’ll have my dessert then we’ll eat the cheesecake that you made.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head, squeezing you in a tight hug.

It took you a while to process his sentence. His dessert, meaning you.

© mitsuyeaah

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[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby, incoming!

carlos sainz x fem!singer!reader

summary - you and carlos have been married for over a year now and you’ve gone MIA. what could be the reason? new music or a new beginning? maybe both?

fc - emrata

masterlist

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Liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, yourusername and 345,765 others

scuderiaferrari our boys are ready, tifosi! are you? #MexicoGP

username they are so attractive its crazy

username lets all pray ladies and gents that there will be a ferrari double podium

username now that is a reach but im right there with you

carlossainz55 ready as always!

username do we think yourusername will actually be there… she hasnt been to the last like 4 gp’s 

username idk but im hoping mothers absence is bc of a new album drop

username omggg pleaseee ive been needing her music

charles_leclerc <3

“and you’re sure you’ll be alright while i’m gone, mi amor?” carlos asks you for what feels like the hundredth time as he is packing up his suitcase. you sigh, walking out of your shared closet and placing another one of his clean ferrari polos into the suitcase and then heading to take a seat on the bed next to his luggage.

“quierdo, soy perfecto. i am pregnant, not dying. now please stop worrying about me while your parents as well as mine stay down the street. i am not alone, mi amor, and you are my first call if anything happens,” carlos listens carefully as he forgets about packing momentarily to come stand between your legs that were dangling off the bed, you reach out as he moves closer to hold both of his hands in yours in order for him to receive the message fully, “porfa, i will be fine just like i have been before,”

carlos gives a quick squeeze to your hands and a brief kiss on your forehead as he soaks in the words he was just told, “yo sé, cariño. i just hate missing everything and leaving you while you need me,” the guilty, solemn look on his face is enough for you to quickly stand, remove his hands from yours and wrap your arms tight around him.

he reciprocates the hug quickly with his hands finding your waist with a firm grip, “mi amor you've been there for me constantly and will be there for our baby once they come; besides me being stuck at home will finally give me an excuse to finish out my album so you have no reason to feel guilty,” you slowly loosen your grip in order to look into his warm, inviting eyes yet his hands never leave your waist.

he gives you a short kiss and then begins to speak up once more, “i just wish we could announce you’re pregnant already so that i could be with you, i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder,” he leans his forehead on yours as his hands disappear from your waist in order to lightly begin caressing your small yet prominent bump, “i know, my love, but my manager would kill me if she could not find a way to make one short announcement work in my albums favor, even if it means capitalizing on my baby,” you say with a short laugh.

carlos just smiles on with you by saying, “welcome to hollywood,” there is then a small kiss, a finished packing job, a sad goodbye and then a long plane ride for carlos as he arrives for the mexico grand prix. 

carlossainz_fanpage looks like carlos is riding solo again, now for the mexican gp … trouble in paradise? new music? baby bump? who knows but i miss our mother

username it looks like hes still wearing his ring in the pictures of him arriving and all the ones ive seen

username oh thank god bc i cannot handle being a child of divorce rn

username me neither i rlly hope its the complete opposite and us children are gaining a brother or sister

username omgggg i hope she is pregnant she’d just be the cutest

username pleaseeee i need an album from her its been like two years now i cant take it

username RIGHT?! she got married and abandoned us :/

you had already received a text from carlos telling you that he landed and was heading to his hotel and then the paddock and he would call you later.

something about his words earlier had been sticking with you all day in the back of your head, ‘i hate being apart already and this just makes it harder’.

you and carlos had known each other before the fame with your parents being friends and the both of you have dated throughout it. you rarely were apart as you would go to almost all his races and travel with him and in turn during his breaks you would tour and he would tag right along. it had always worked beautifully since the flexibility of your job allowed you to work from ultimately anywhere, therefore why not spend it following and being with the love of your life? the distance from carlos was difficult, not even remotely from distrust or anything negative, just the simplicity of missing out.

you made a fast but firm decision and began to pack a bag. you gave a quick call to your mother in law informing her of your plan and letting her know you’d be by soon to drop off the dogs and then she began to insist she even drive you to the airport.

she has always loved you like a daughter for as long as you and carlos have been together claiming ‘she is just so good for him, no sé’.

then there is a quick flight, a large hoodie thrown on, and a pregnant y/n waiting right outside carlos’ hotel door.

your hand is brought up and with a sharp knock you stand still simply waiting. carlos takes a minute to open the door and as he does his eyes immediately light up, “y/n!” he makes haste to pull you into his room and into his arms immediately, “qué haces aquí?”

“ay! you’re asking me what i’m doing here instead of a long i love you my beautiful wife thank you for coming,” you mock and joke as he continues to rock you back and forth in his hold.

“lo siento, amor, gracias para coming all this way,” he leans back to look into your eyes while one of his hands finds its way to your bump,

“i was just confused because everyone is going to see, no?” he continues. you nod and begin to laugh while saying, “to be completely honest, carlos, i dont give a fuck. my fans will either buy my album or won't, it doesn't depend on our child. and i for sure am not going to miss out on seeing you race or rob you from any papi/baby time just for a stupid album,” he listens to you speak while his eyes begin to glisten over with happiness, “y/n, i’m so happy porfa can we post now so that i can take you out to a nice dinner and we can actually be people again,” he finishes off his sentence with a laugh.

you just simply smile, nod and give him his answer in a long-awaited passionate kiss. “gracias dios,” he whispers against your lips with a small sigh as you just let out a giggle.

you were a bit nervous before but now after being with carlos and seeing his relief you know you made the right decision. 

yourusername and carlossainz55 baby sainz coming soon <3

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y/ncarlos_updates PREGGERS Y/N ARRIVING IN THE PADDOCK TODAY!

username holyyyyy shit she looks so good

username MOTHER IS AN ACTUAL MOTHER

username and our daddy is about to be an actual daddy!!

username they are going to be the most attractive parents ever

username stop im so happy for them this is so cute

username their entire childhood bff to lovers trope and now they’re having a baby like dream come true

username no fr its like watching them grow up before our eyes its so cute

username shes still got such good style even when pregnant i am green with envy rn

username that makes two of us

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username we all know that if it is a driver itll be landonorris

landonorris damn right

username WHAT THE FU-

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