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#but also he’s come so far im so proud of him
dwaekkicidal · 2 days
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Hii sian!! Im new to your page and i love your writing! I don't know if requests are open rn tho. So feel free to ignore this! I was thinking if you could write something like dom!hyunjin x fem!reader and like hyunjin punishing reader for flirting with some other guys. feel free to ignore it and if you do want to write it i will be more then happy to read it! Also it can involve anything:3
hi nonnie❤! thank you :') I'm glad you've enjoyed everything so far! requests are open :3 if you're ever not sure just check my pinned post!
hope you enjoy hehe <3
Much Needed Reminder
˚ʚDom!Hyunjin x Model!Readerɞ˚
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: ~2.3k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, rough sex, meaner Hyunjin (my staple at this point sry not sry), dirty talk, ‘slut’ name calling, some spanking, overstim, mentions of edging
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: fun fact: the name Choi (최) is actually pronounced "Chwe/Chwi" :)
MDNI!! smut below the cut
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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You’re currently in some random studio in Seoul, modeling for an upcoming collaboration you were having with Beauty of Joseon, a skincare company. Your boyfriend happily tagged along for once, since he finally had some free time outside of his schedule. He sat in the sidelines and watched you do your thing, giving you a huge smile anytime your eyes met his. It led to some of the team’s favorite shots of you: your genuine smile shining from the attention of your lover.
All was going well until a few hours in, you noticed the lingering eyes of the producer staring at your cleavage any chance he could. It made you feel grossed out, but when your eyes landed on your boyfriend’s murderous gaze, you couldn't stop your legs from pushing together. ‘It’s been a while since we’ve had sex anyways… why not make a little game out of it.’
So, a game you started. It started with fake bashful glances at the producer, making sure both mens eyes were on you when doing so. Then, it quickly moved on to overly dramatic whines and puppy dog eyes whenever the producer would come up to you in order to describe a new pose. You could tell by the pink cheeks of the producer and the narrowed eyes of your boyfriend that the game was already going in your favor.
The final straw was when everybody was wrapping up, putting away the products and their cameras. You all but skipped over to the producer, placing your soft hands on his bare arms and squeezing. “Thank you so much, Producer Choi! I had soooo much fun today.” You made sure to say it loud enough so that the outraged boy watching your every move could hear your tone clearly. If Hyunjin wasn’t so blind by anger, he would’ve seen right through your fake act.
However, he is NOT God’s strongest soldier, and the sight of your hands on another man had him rising to his feet. He turned his back to the scene and walked towards the snack tables to grab a bottle of water. You watched him from your peripheral and the nonexistent victory screen was already in your line of sight.
Feeling quite proud of yourself, you suddenly tell the producer that you couldnt wait to ‘have him as a friend’ and quickly moved your hands away from him. You ignored the way his eyes widened and his smile faltered, and you offered him a sweet smile as you swiftly made your way to the double doors labeled “EXIT.”
As you’re walking down the long hallway, you hear long steps following you. You smirk to yourself and make a show to sway your hips with each step you take. There’s a faint groan and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. As you step in front of the door with your name on it, you’re suddenly pushed against it. You let out a sigh as the ‘unknown’ man behind you pushes you into the door, rubbing his bulge between your ass cheeks. He sighs out a low “Jagiya..” and your mouth moves before your brain can stop you from digging yourself into a deeper hole.
“Oh~.. Is that you, Producer Choi?”
The man behind you tenses before essentially growling into your hair. He swings the door open and shoves you in, slamming the door behind him before stalking towards you. You’re quickly turned and pushed up against your vanity, meeting the angry and narrowed eyes of your boyfriend. His eyes dip down to your smirk and he rolls his eyes before grabbing you by the chin.
“You are such a pain in my ass.” He mumbles out, pulling you into a wet kiss and pinning between his body and the table. His hands fiddle with the bottom of your dress, pulling it up and above your head as he pulls away from your lips. You go to complain and ask what he thinks he’s doing all of the sudden but his hand moves to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and making it hard for you to speak clearly.
“If you wanted to be fucked so bad you could have just asked me, honey. No need to go rub your pretty hands all over some filthy freak who you don’t even know. You’re mine.”
You giggle against his hold and when his hands move down to cup your waist, you finally speak out, “Yeah but where’s the fun in that?”
“You think you’re just sooo cute, don’t you baby…” He whispers into your ear, his hands teasingly trailing down your sides to rest against your hips. When you nod with a big grin on your face he can’t stop himself from laughing. “Yeah, you really are. But I think you need a reminder of who you belong to. That cuteness won’t stop me from fucking you stupid all over this room.” He spins you around and roughly pushes you into the laminated table top by the back of your head.
You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him unbuckling his belt and pulling his lower clothes down in one go. He lands a loud smack to your right ass cheek, pulling your hips against his own when you squeak and run from the contact. His hands grip onto your waist and pull you back into him, also pushing you into the table to angle you downwards.
His free hand traces his tip along your folds to gather your wetness before pushing in rather impatiently. Off the bat he set a brutal pace, pummeling into you with each thrust as his hands roamed all over your body. He possessively squeezed at your hips and your shoulders anytime he passed them, hoping if he did it enough it would mark his name into your skin forever.
“F-Fuck! Hyunjin, wait! The d-door is unlocked.”
“Good. Maybe I’ll even fuck you up against it and let the staff hear your slutty moans so they know who you belong to.”
You whine at the thought, letting your eyes flutter closed. Your cheeks constantly rubbed against the table as your hands dug into the edge of it. Your hands shakily move near your chest in an attempt to push yourself up. But before you know it, one of his hands trails into your hair and grabs a fistful from your scalp. He angles your head back and uses his grip as leverage to hold you in place against the vanity as he fucked your brains out.
You cry out when your eyes land on the mirror above you. You were met with the sight of your boyfriend’s thick lips caught between his teeth, his eyes narrowed and focused on where his hips smacked against yours. His arm muscles flexed with the sheer strength he used to hold you down, and the sight had your legs shaking.
“Jinnieee.. Fffuck. I’m so close, pleaaase.” Your pleas sounded so desperate, but you couldn’t find it in you to care when one of his long fingers reached under you to rub messy shapes onto your clit. With the added stimulation, it took you no time to gush around him. Your legs shook beneath you as your orgasm ran through your body. It passed fast and once you were finished, Hyunjin quickly pulled out. You didn’t feel him cum and you looked back at him confused.
“I’m not even close yet, so we’re not done. You wanna act like a slut, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He growled out, pulling you away from the vanity and towards the loveseat in the room. He took a seat, spreading his legs widely before pulling you onto his lap. As your hips went to rest on him, he positioned himself so that you sat on his dick. You both let out low moans at the feeling, but his hands quickly moved away from you in favor of resting behind his head. When you made another confused face at him, he just smirked and leaned back against the couch. “C’mon baby. Work for it. I won’t do any of the work this round.”
You whine loudly and frown down at him, getting ready to complain that your legs were too weak but he thrusts his hips upwards roughly after your whine. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Now hurry up before I leave you high and dry for the rest of the day.” You both knew he would never actually do it, he was way too obsessed with you and your body to even think about doing such a thing. But the way he casually lounged had you believing it and you clenched tightly onto him, pulling a cocky smirk from him.
Your bottom lip quivered but you dragged your hips against his, grinding against him slowly for a few minutes. You barely processed one of his hands moving as you ground yourself harder against him, whimpering at the way his shirt rubbed against your puffy clit. There was a harsh sting and a loud slap to your ass that sent you jumping forward. You expected to land against his broad chest, but instead you landed in a grasp that was his long fingers wrapped against your throat. Your gaze moved to lock with his but your eyes quickly shut feeling another slap hit your ass cheek.
“F-Fuck!” you cried out, tightening even more as you felt his fingers tighten around your neck. 
“Do it the right way, baby.” He commanded, moving his hand from your ass to rest on your thigh. You finally lifted yourself and bounced on his dick, letting out desperate moans as you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You rode him like this for some time, only slowing down to admire his features.
He was leaned as far back as the chair allowed, face dripping with sweat as his lips held the biggest shit-eating grin ever known to mankind. From your movements, the hand on your thigh had fallen to your knee and his other hand continued to rest like a puzzle piece against your throat. Your hips stuttered as your orgasm suddenly snuck up on you. Creaming from just looking at your boyfriend must have been a new record.
Your movements almost completely stopped as your thighs shook uncontrollably, but Hyunjin wasn’t having any of that. His hands moved from their spots to grab your wrists, pinning them to your back in an X formation as he pulled you to lean on him. You were too distracted to notice the way your head fell to his shoulder, but you nestled into his neck when you felt his hips begin to slam into you.
You silently screamed from the overstimulation, quickly biting into his neck and crying out against his skin as he gave you no chance to recover. With the way his hands held yours, you had no choice but to take what was given. You felt saliva pooling in your mouth and you tried desperately to swallow it but one deep into your cervix thrust had you seeing stars. It finally dripped down your chin as he spoke up for the first time in what felt like forever. 
“Nice and d-deep, right baby? Just how my little slut likes it?” He stuttered through the teasing statement at the feeling of his balls tensing up, and you could feel his thrusts getting sloppier. You nodded into his neck as your third orgasm built up fast, causing your nails to dig into your palms.
“You’re MY girl. This pretty pussy and this?” He pauses to land a slap on your ass, “This nice ass? Is MINE. Nobody can fuck you or love you like I do.” This sends you over the edge and you let out an porn-star like moan as you cum, your tightness finally being too much for him to handle and he finishes next.
The room is filled with nothing but your combined breaths as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. Your legs shake almost nonstop for a while after you calm down, and you find yourself whimpering at the feeling of Hyunjin pulling out. His dick slaps against his stomach and he coos soothingly against your ear.
Your forehead was still shoved against his shoulder when your eyes finally noticed your drool connecting your lips to his jacket. You shakily pulled away and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
You sat on his thighs, feeling his cum drip out of you and onto the floor as his pretty hands massaged circles into your hips and his pretty lips whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Ranging from “You did so good for me, honey. Took me so well.” to “You’re so pretty, my little masterpiece. I got you, I got you. Don’t worry.”
By the time you both return to normal, you’ve been changed into new clothes and Hyunjin has become distracted and newly obsessed with the drool stain on his jacket. He could feel himself getting hard again while staring at it, but forced himself to tear his eyes away once it was time to leave. He grabbed your combined belongings and had you hold onto his arm as he led you to the taxi he had called on the ride down the elevator.
Everything was back to normal and extra sweet as he opened the door for you to sit first, then shoved your things into the truck before taking his own seat. You smiled up at him with those pretty eyes and whispered into his ear, “That was so much fun, Jinnie.. Sorry I flirted with the producer, but you see what my vision was.”
He laughed and pulled you into a soft kiss before leaning into your ear to whisper, “Oh, don’t worry baby, your punishment has barely even started. Once we’re home I’m edging you all night.”
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whollyjoly · 26 days
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you know i dreamed about you / for twenty-nine years before i saw you - slow show. the national
4x05 Buck Begins II 7x05 You Don't Know Me
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just-null-cult · 5 months
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Dear the Noritoshi Cult Leader,
May I have Noritoshi in butler outfit with bunny tail and ears? I need it to bless my gloomy day. I really appreciate it you took on my request. Thank you
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Lucky for you, cult member, i love butlers. A lot.
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luck-of-the-drawings · 7 months
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WWWOOOPS FORGOT I MADE THIS. drew this back at around when the hyperbolic time chamber training arc was just starting. remember that? huh? remember the hamspter??? ohhhhhhhh youll remember the haspter!!!! oh my god yknow what else i remember. williams overwhelming love for christmas. oh my god. spooky zombie boy loves the christmas.. literally the best possible thing for him...
#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi pd spoilers#VYNCENT SSOOOOOLLLL I STILL DONT KNOW HOW TO DRAW YOUUUUU AND YKNIOW WHY?? YKNOW WHYYY???? BC WHEN I FIRST DREW EVERYONE:#I DIDNT LOOK AT ANY REFS. DREW EM STRAIGHT FROM OFF THE TOP O MY HEAD. AND WELL. IN MY HEAD SOMETIMES#I PICTURE THE CHARACTERS LOOKING SIMILAR TO THE PLAYERS IN SOME WAY. NOT THE BEST THING TO DO REALLY. BUT YOU SEE.#VYNCENT CAME OFF AS A VERY SOFT AND SWEET CHARACTER. BUT SEEMED TO CARRY ALOT OF STRENGTH. HES LIKE A BEAUTIFUL AND POWERFUL BULL TO ME.#SO I DRAW THE GUY REAL DENSE! BUT THEN YAKNOOOWW THE OFFICIAL ART CROSSES MY EYES N IM LIKE FFFYUUUUUCKKK HE DOESNT LOOK LIKE THAT!!!!!!#IM LIKE AAUGUHGH IM DRAWIN HIM WRONG!!! BUT THEN IM ALSO CRAAAZY STUBBORN N I AAALREADY ESTABLISHED THIS DESIGN FOR HIM AND I DONT WANNT#I DONT WANNA GO N JUS CHANGE IT AAAALL UP NOW!!CMAHHHNNN BUT I STILL GOTTA DO SOOOMETHIN!!#LEST HE BECOMES SO FAR REMOVED FROM THE SOURCE MATERIAL HE FAILS TO BE RECOGNIZED!! ANYONE ELSE GO THRU THIS? GIMME UR TIPS#anyway AHH THE DEMON THAT DESPISES ART FROM MONTHS AGO!! just means im improving so so fastly and cool-like. tbh im so proud o my recents#bUT HEY THOUGH I FIGURED OUT THE QUEUEUE THING AHAHAH NOW I CAN GET ALL MY THOUGHTS N DRAWINS OUT IN A DAAAYYYY#CONSISTENT POSTING FOR A MONTH HERE I COME. DAILY UPLOADS FOR A WEEK. YEAAHH BABY!!! PREPARE FOR SHOTGGUN BLASDT!!!!!!#ALRIGHT ALright one more thing before i go im. SO IN LOVE WITH MY SHAPES HONESLY... they are not just one shape but so so many put together#fucked up innit??? im seeing soo many problems in this piece though but i rest easy knowing i captured my feelings in the moment.
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vampkomori · 25 days
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aventurine has in fact personally blessed my pulls thank you
(the trick is to only have ratio in your team and go to the love hotel room)
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red1sart · 1 year
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MOBHEADS HOW WE FEELING
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it's almost midnight and I NEED to talk about lovejoy with someone please I WILL EXPLODE !!!!!!!!!! ramblings in tags ^_^
#theyve come so so far and i am so so very proud of them i am going to cryyyyyyyy#my boys my boys all of them are such creative pple and they deserve the world and then the universe !!!!!!!#lovejoy also have such a unique sound its like !!!!!!!!! the genre they play can get to be very similar with other music very quickly#but they just find a way to make it work !!!!!!!!! they have such a uniqueness that most musicians dont and its incredible how the universe#just made these four ppl meet at the best time for them to form a banger and be successful !!!!!!!!! like obv is there werent a pandemic#theyd still be equally as successful but i think maybe its be slower ? idk bc a lot of wilburs audience migrated to lvjy#and while im not saying wilburs fame made the band it definitely helped boost them soooo much !!!!!!!!!!!!!#theyd still grow big bc their music is good !!!!!!!!!! you dont get that with a lot of ccs turned musicians#its arrgrhhhhhhhgggg man i love lvjy#something about their music itches my brain and makes me incredibly incredibly happy all the time !!!!!!!!!#and i wanna talk about how all of them are so creative as well#i mean we see it obvious with ash and wilbur . ash with his vlogs and wilbur with his stories but joe and mark really are so talented too#mark with his phenomenal drumming skills . like !!!!!!!!!! hes insane on the drums !!!!!!!!! so so good theres no one else like him man#and joe !!!!!!!!! he helps with lyrics and really really good riffs and he doesnt get enough appreciation !!!!!!! honestly#okay okay i think im done now if anyone read all this way ty for listening ^_^ now go listen to lovejoy !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#and im still up to chat if anyone wants to :D
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thursdayg1rl · 2 years
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seeing my friend was really nice :)
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arthur-r · 2 years
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progress on my painting from a while ago
#it’s still just very base layers but i hadn’t got a chance to do anything to it since that first day#(i’m borrowing my older sisters canvasses and she’s the one who has all the paints too these days which used to be mine#so she’s keeping my work in progress canvas with all her painting stuff and it only comes out of the whole family is ready to paint#which mostly just means us kids but only happens if my littlest sister is interested and today she was)#anyway im very excited to have a painting to put up on my wall of a bear playing cello#the end pin is gonna be stuck out real long too look at how far it is to where his lower foot is at#cause usually you don’t play the cello when you’re standing and if you do you often have a strap or something similar#but i don’t use a strap (mainly because i only play sitting down but like. if i stood i would use the end pin)#and so neither does he. one real self insert of an imaginary cellist bear he must be#also one thing i’m gonna struggle with is differentiating the cello from the bear in color. like yeah they’re different shades of brown but#i only have so much different colors of paint to mix together#but yknow what. things happen and that’s all they ever do and if it doesn’t look good then i’ll figure something else out#maybe it’ll have to be an orange cello. these kinds of things are unpredictable shdhdf#anyway i hope you think of me like i think of this painting (as a grizzly bear playing a cello or as a thing you like and are proud of)#but yeah hi im at the house of some cats right now. feeding them and such. but there’s this other unafilliated cat who belongs to their#roommate josh. and his cat is named bear so you’d think we’d get along but he’s scratched me in six different spots today#he always wants to eat the other cats food so i have to pick him up and carry him to another room and that makes him very upset with me#anyway the cats take a long time to eat and i can’t leave until they’re done so that i can let out bear when he no longer poses a threat#which means im just kind of chilling in a friends empty house (josh is gone for the moment) with nothing much to do except wait#and i’m sure hoping to walk home before it’s pitch dark out but that would probably mean giving up and letting bear out to steal their food#so good luck to me on that front. anyway im rambling a little i was just trying to post this picture shdhdhdf#so. i hope to work on it again soon in not very long. and i just really like painting things with a paintbrush it makes me feel less bad#when i mess up in whatever ways. because everyone always complains about traditional art so it’s more universal. i like it better though too#anyway i’ll be here for the next while just hoping to head home before 9:30. let me know if you need anything though#me. my post. mine.#delete later
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xjordyleighx · 6 months
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I've seen season 2 of Loki now, and I can officially say:
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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stevie-petey · 29 days
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episode one: suzie, do you copy?
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”
Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3
Rating: general, swearing
Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 9.6k
Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !
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June 27th, 1985.
A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.
In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.
The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,
It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.
There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.
Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.
As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”
You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”
“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.
“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”
Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”
You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.
“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.
Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”
“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”
“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”
His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”
“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”
You gasp. “You’re lying!”
“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”
“What about Mike and El?”
“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”
Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”
Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”
“Please? I could be poor soon!”
“No, it’s not going to happen–”
“But–”
A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.
It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.
Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”
She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”
“Hello to you too, Henderson.”
You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”
“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.
Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”
Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”
You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.
“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.
“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”
Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”
Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”
“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”
“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”
Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”
You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”
Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”
Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”
“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.
“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.
Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.
He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”
Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”
You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.
Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”
You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”
Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.
When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.
The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”
But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.
In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.
A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.
The phone rings.
“Right on time, honey.”
“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.
Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.
Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.
“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.
Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”
“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.
“You two are the worst together.”
“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”
Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”
“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”
Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“And yet you stay.” You tease.
“And yet I stay.”
You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.
The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.
It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.
By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.
It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.
Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.
Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”
“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”
The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”
You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”
“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”
The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”
She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.
Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.
You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?
At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.
Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”
“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.
There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”
You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”
Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”
Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”
Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”
“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”
“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”
Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”
You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.
The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.
You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.
“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”
Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”
“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.
You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.
“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.
Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”
You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.
Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”
You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.
Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”
Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”
He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”
Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”
You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.
Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.
Seems it’s time for their movie.
You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”
“Ow, Y/N!”
“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”
Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”
“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”
Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”
Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”
“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.
You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”
“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.
However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”
You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”
Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.
Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”
Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.
Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.
“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.
“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?
You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”
Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.
Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”
You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.
However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.
When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.
She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.
Robin, however, clearly has other plans.
“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.
“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”
“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.
Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”
Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”
“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”
“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”
“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”
“Okay, so what?”
“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”
Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”
“Technically I dumped her–”
“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.
Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”
Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”
“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.
“Harrington!”
There it is.
“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”
Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don���t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”
Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”
Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.
You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.
After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”
Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.
It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.
It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.
Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”
Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.
Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”
“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.
“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”
“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.
Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”
Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.
You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”
Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”
The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.
Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.
“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.
“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.
Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”
“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.
Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”
The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”
“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.
Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”
You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”
Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.
Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.
“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.
You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”
“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.
“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.
A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”
Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”
“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.
“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”
You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”
Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”
“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”
You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.
As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”
Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”
“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.
“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.
You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”
“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”
“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”
You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”
From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.
Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”
“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.
“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”
The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”
“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”
The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”
“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.
The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”
“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.
“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.
“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”
Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”
“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.
“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”
“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”
“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.
“Since when?”
“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”
Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”
“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”
Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”
Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”
For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.
Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.
You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.
“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.
Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”
“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.
You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”
“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.
“You’re dating a Mormon?”
Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”
“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.
Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”
“Scary people–”
Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”
“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”
“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”
“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.
Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”
“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.
“But they were also star crossed lovers.”
“Who killed themselves.”
Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”
You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”
“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.
Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”
“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.
With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”
Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”
You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”
“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.
“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.
Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”
“It’s gross!” Will voices again.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”
“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”
You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”
Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”
Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.
You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.
“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.
“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.
“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.
At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”
“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.
You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”
“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.
Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.
Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.
“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.
“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”
No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.
Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”
More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.
You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.
“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”
“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.
“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.
Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.
Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”
“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”
“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.
Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”
“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.
Dustin gasps. “She exists!”
“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”
Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”
“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”
Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”
“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”
Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”
“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.
“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”
“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.
Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”
Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”
Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”
“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.
You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”
“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.
As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”
His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.
“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”
Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.
He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”
You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”
“Russian.” Dustin whispers.
Everything changes, then.
You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.
“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”
He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.
You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.
When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.
“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”
“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.
Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”
Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”
Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.
He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”
Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”
You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”
“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.
“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”
“Y/N, are you in danger–”
“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”
“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.
Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”
“Anytime, angel. You know that.”
And you do.
Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)
⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @​ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz
557 notes · View notes
norris55s · 7 months
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she devil - charles leclerc
(black cat) ferrari driver reader x (golden retriever) charles leclerc social media au
a/n: the concept is stone cold driver meets sunshine driver, is infected by the happiness, and is cool with it because she fell in love. face claim is bella hadid :) ❤️
requests are open!
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scuderiaferrari
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liked by 2,034,924
scuderiaferrari: We are extremely proud to announce our 2024 driver line up: Charles Leclerc, Il Predestinato, and Y/N L/N, La Diavolessa. We are certain this is a step closer to bring the championship back to Maranello, and to our Tifosi. ❤️
view all 5,724 comments
charles16s: why is she named La Diavolessa?
y/nsupremacy: she’s from Italy and the tifosi have loved her forever, so they nicknamed her She Devil because of how she drives
y/ncupid: i have been dreaming of this for YEARS
leclercfosi: i wonder how she’ll team up with charles, she has always been a handful lol
fallingfory/n: she is a great sportswoman. women don’t have to be complacent to be good people, fck outta here w/ that narrative
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y/nusername
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liked by 1,925,024
y/nusername: Ferrari 2024.
view all 2,034 comments
charles_leclerc: Give them hell. Welcome to the team! ❤️‍🔥
sebastianvettel: I’m sure you will bring glory back to Maranello ❤️
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y/nusername:
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liked by 1,234,245
y/nusername: New season, new cars. That was a great first race.
view all 2,395 comments
charles_leclerc: 👊❤️‍🔥
scuderiaferrari: We are so proud of you!
lewishamilton: Welcome, huge start 💪🏼
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y/nusername
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liked by 1,562,924
y/nusername: Amazing team results so far, let’s keep up the good work after the summer break.
leclercstarlight: miss girl doesn’t smile much does she
wildflowery/n: imagine being in 2024 and still being a “you should smile more” ass bitch, she’ll smile when she wants to
charles_leclerc: Amazing season 🏆❤️‍🔥
eurougeleclerc: he’s so whipped lol i’m calling it not
ferrarisduo: me when im delusional
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charles_leclerc
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liked by 1,134,385
charles_leclerc: We did everything to maximize our results today. Big congrats to y/nusername for her first win; so very happy for you! ❤️‍🔥 The pizza celebration was better than anything.
view all 2,875 comments
y/nusername: Thank you, Charles. You’ve been a great teammate.
alliny/n: what goes ON
shadowleclerc: she gives kimi and i love it
mastermindy/n: she’s like race win? cool
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y/nusername
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liked by 1,035,475
y/nusername: Things didn’t go to plan in my race, but I’m genuinely happy for charles_leclerc. We will be back stronger.
view all 2,078 comments
y/nsupremacy: y’all don’t get it she’s SMILING after a dnf because of A MAN
y/nhaven: she also literally defended for him. strategy had already fucked her up but the fact that she wasn’t coming for his throat… she must really like him lmao
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Y/N. Couldn’t have done with without you ❤️‍🔥
midnightcharles: he keeps using the heart fire emoji i can’t lmfao
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formulanews
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liked by 54,724
formulanews: Charles and Y/N have been interviewed together for GQ magazine, and they were asked about the nature of their relationship as teammates or friends. Charles said: “I think the world of her and I admire her mentality and race craft a lot. I also think she is a great friend to me and everyone around her, I don’t know why people think she isn’t. Y/N brings a lot of passion to the grid.” Meanwhile, Y/N told the publication: “Charles is a good guy, and a better driver. Being his teammate is fruitful; so is being his friend.”
view all 245 comments
starleclerc: y/n doesn’t speak much but when she does it’s meaningful
y/nheart: charles also spoke so highly of her like wow
leclercsplanet: honestly charles likes her a lot and y/n also seems comfortable with him which unusual
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f1waggossip
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liked by 104,483
f1waggossip: We are as shocked as anyone else but Charles and Y/N have been seen acting very cozy on a yacht in Monaco. New relationship just dropped, out of literal nowhere!
view all 1,035 comments
lovebirdleclerc: THERES NO MF WAY
eurougeleclerc: i was called delusional I CALL IT MANIFESTING
y/nhaven: what, and i can’t stress this enough, the fuck just happened
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y/nusername
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liked by 2,794,924
y/nusername: Love :)
view all 6,024 comments
charles_leclerc: my sweet girl ❤️‍🔥🤍
y/nhope: i am fainting rn like actually afraid for my life rn
dazzlingleclerc: pinch me fr
landonorris: she does smile everyone, i’ve seen it when they (disgustingly) kiss
danielricciardo: don’t be so jealous (it’s true, it’s disgustingly sweet)
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charles_leclerc
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liked by 2,034,835
charles_leclerc: She is actually an angel 🤍❤️‍🔥
view all 4,035 comments
y/nusername: Still she devil, just in love.
charles_leclerc: Give them hell forever.
carlossainz55: Can I just say you’re welcome for leaving Ferrari and letting Y/N join?
1K notes · View notes
81folklore · 18 days
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i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid
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parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi
summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling
type: social media au (smau)
notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!
notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!
masterlist
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march 2024
twitter
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charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp
i have been waiting for YEARS
max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.
lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???
alex be glad he doesnt use captials
oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him
max ???
lando anyway
yn mate you ok?
yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am
lando yeah but usually your not single
lewis oh no! you and jacob split?
yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore
charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣
yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising
fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!
yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost
fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!
yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?
lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???
yourname cheers ill get on now
george let us know if you need anything!
may 2024
yourusername
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liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others
p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!
thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️
view comments
mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*
landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate
yourusername same time next race?
user33 loved seeing you back on the podium
user2 absolutely smashing it this season
user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*
user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*
twitter
*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*
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august 2024
yourusername
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liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others
did some reading, painting and writing
baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️
view comments
user66 AHHHHHH
yourusername ahhhhhhh
user26 cats name plsplspls
yourusername norman🐱
lukehemmings nice music👍
yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!
mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium
yourusername always!!!!
user74 have you had funnnn??
yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋
twitter
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*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*
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october 2024
yourusername
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liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others
p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased
huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️
view comments
user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*
user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud
yourusername ⭐️⭐️
gracieabrams woop woop!!!!
yourusername 😝😝
user2 gracie??
user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕
user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!
yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot
user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)
yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)
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november 2024
yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others
tagged: taylorswift
i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album
im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before
i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life
send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)
comments have been limited
taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍
yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️
twitter
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yourusername added to their story
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seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others
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charles i feel completely betrayed yn
fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?
charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??
AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️
yourname sorry charles, surprise?!
charles ill forgive you because its a good song
yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!
yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️
yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!
lando I LOVE IT TOO
but seriously are you ok?!
yourname yeahhh im better now
was just a lot to navigate
lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us
yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do
alex yn was that twitter thread right?
yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate
alex user56tweetlink
yourname oh pretty much yeah
some things were changed with taylor but not much
fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!
yourname thank uu
max good song yn!
now
lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!
oscar max is kind of scary
max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!
695 notes · View notes
dark-and-kawaii · 5 months
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༺ 𝒯𝒾𝑒𝒻𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓎 𝒞𝑜𝒸𝓀𝓈 ༻
I can't stop thinking about the tieflings and their pretty fire pokers so here we are. Please enjoy xoxo
Zevlor - Dammon - Rolan - NSFW - Cock Talk
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Zevlor
His cock is by far the most fascinating.
Zevlor's cock is so pretty and girthy, definitely the biggest of the three. So if you have a size kink this is the route to take because you'll be amazed at the sheer size of it.
Don't worry though, he won't ever force it all in at once. Zevlor would never hurt you, EVER! He'll take his time with you, warming you up and slowly pushing himself into you until you're ready to take all of him.
I know you've seen his face, well im happy to tell you that his cock comes with ridges just like on his face. Oh gosh, and its so veiny. The texture of his cock is enough to make you have an orgasm, you'll be trembling under him as soon as it enters you.
Like you can also feel him in your guts and he's not even trying.
He's cut with a beautiful smooth mushroom head. It does take some getting used to when it enters you. But licking it is something you've become obsessed with because of how it feels in your mouth, so that helps lube him up before.
Fuck, this mans cock always makes you feel worshiped and adored.
Did i mention Zevlor's cock comes with a nice curve to it, yup, that's right. This gentleman was absolutely blessed by the cock gods and he'll be able to hit all your favorite spots. Please expect to cum multiple times while with this man.
Fear not, because while you're a panting mess with his cum dribbling out of you, Zevlor will go find something to clean you off with and even bring you a glass of something to drink. Bath? If he can, he'll provide you with one.
Dammon
Dammon, sweet sweet Dammon. This man has a very pretty cock, you're obsessed with it okay.
Dammon isn't as large as Zevlor but he still has a good length to him along with just the right amount of girth.
Just because he isn't the biggest doesn't mean he can't fill you, because believe me, he can.
Always oozing pre cum which gives his head a nice sheen to it. Oh god you love the way his precum makes his head glisten, you can't help but want to fall to your knees and lick it clean.
His cock is uncut, not too veiny but has a nice contrast from the head to the shaft for your pleasure.
When the two of you first experienced sex his cock was the right amount of sweet and painful.
Let's be honest this man knows how to use his cock okay.
The way Dammon works his cock into you makes you feel so loved and like you're the only one for him, but that's not always the case. Dammon has two moods when it comes to his cock, sweetest tiefling in the world, and also the meanest tiefling in the world.
He can work your body as if you were a goddess or he can use and abuse you as if you were some sort of sleeve made for his cock.
This is why he's perfect, because even after he's made you a mess and treated you like some fuck doll he's right there at your side kissing your forehead with his arms wrapped around you. He'll always have something ready to clean you up with and he's not the kind of guy to just up and leave after hot ass sex.
Rolan
Rooolan!! Our precious sassy Rolan. I love imagining his cock. Its so fun.
Its so pretty, like sooooo pretty and it hits all the right spots.
Rolan has a very sensitive cock as well, like all you have to do is touch it and his breath will catch in his throat.
Lick it/ Suck it and he becomes a squirming mess because he's so damn sensitive.
Teasing him is an absolute delight :D.
Not veiny at all but has a nice curve to it. Rolan also has more length than girth.
Be prepared because this mans cock will hit your cervix.
It might hurt at first which he has mixed feeling about. He hates that you wince in pain but at the same time hes so proud that he can do that to you.
Sometimes it might even bruise you so like i said, be prepared.
Eventually you'll warm up to it though and it'll become the best thing you've ever experienced.
Oh yeah, remember i said his dick is sensitve, well yeah in the start of your sexual relationship he doens't last long.
Like your walls clenching his cock has him a trembling mess and he's trying his best not to orgasm right then and there. He wants to last a long time for you but sometimes its just hard.
I feel like i need to add this but Rolan is 100% clean shaven. Like he hates hair down there on himself. He doesn't mind it if it grows out a little, but it makes him feel very unclean. He's a pretty tiefling and he wants to keep it that way.
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leclsrc · 1 year
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you know it ✴︎ cl16
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genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry
word count: 7k
Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah
title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy
Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach. 
Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.
He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.
Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.
“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.
“You are such an asshole.”
“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase. 
Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.
Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.
“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.
“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”
“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.
“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”
“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”
“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”
Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.
But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.
Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.
He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.
“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.
Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.
They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.
“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting. 
“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”
Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk. 
“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”
The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.
A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.
Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”
“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.
A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.
“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.
You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.
To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.
Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”
Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”
You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.
Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)
You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.
“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”
“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly. 
“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”
Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”
“I mean, a bit!”
Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”
“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.
“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.
“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”
“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”
Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”
“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”
You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.
Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.
“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”
“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”
Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.
He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.
There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen. 
Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.
Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.
You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.
He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.
“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.
He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.” 
“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.
His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.
“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.
“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”
He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”
Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”
Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”
“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—
“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches. 
“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.
“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.
“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously. 
It’s time he get a little creative.
Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.
“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.
“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.
“Fixing my hair.” 
“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.
“Wh—I don’t—”
“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”
“It’s nobody,” he lies.
“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”
Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.
“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.
“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”
“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking.  “Lucky George, huh.”
The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”
Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.
“See anything nice on the paddock?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.
“Did you get a picture with Max?”
“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”
“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”
“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.
“Lewis.”
“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”
“Pierre.”
“Horribly French, but… smash.”
“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”
“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.
He smirks. “Are you?”
“I really am,” you hum.
“Are you staying long? All weekend?”
“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”
“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”
Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.
Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.
Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.
“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”
“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.
“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”
“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”
You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard. 
He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.
He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.
He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.
“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.
His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.
He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.
“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”
You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.
“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.
You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.
“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.
You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”
He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.
You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum. 
“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.
Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.
He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.
He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.
Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?
Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.
After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.
“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.
In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.
You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.
“Wine?”
“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”
“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”
“Pizza?”
“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.
The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.
He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly. 
You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.
And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.
When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.
The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”
You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting. 
He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”
“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.
Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.
Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.
“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.
He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.
Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.
He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.
“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.
“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.
“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.  
“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”
He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”
“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”
He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.
You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”
He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”
“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”
Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.
It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.
Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.
He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.
All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title. 
The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while. 
For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.
You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.
He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.
So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—
Absolute fucking chaos.
He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.
“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.
Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”
“Hey there, champ.”
You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.
Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”
“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.
“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”
“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”
“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there. 
In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.
“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”
“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”
“You take too long,” you groan.
“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.
You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.
It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot. 
He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”
“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.
“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.
“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”
He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure. 
You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”
You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.
“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”
“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?” 
“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”
He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.
“Good?”
You nod. So good, give me more.
You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”
Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.
You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.
“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.
“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.
“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”
“Aww,” you tease. 
“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”
You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.
“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”
“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You 
“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.
He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.
You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”
“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”
You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.
He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.
“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.
“Yeah?”
“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 month
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Idk if youre open for requests but ignore this if you are sweets!
James Vowles fic where his wife is a famous super model and its her first time on the paddock and everyone is like, youre married to him??? Im down bad im sorry😔
A/N: He's out of his timeout.....for the time being also reader is Adriana Lima type famous for models, also major girl crush on her, damn
"I'm sorry, you're who?" The guard gawks as you smile back, you were used to this but honestly a little irked he thought you were far to good for your husband.
"I'm Y/n Vowles, James Vowles wife." The guard makes a noise of disagreement and shakes his head. "Okay, um sure," He lets you through and you wave as you walk through the paddock. Stopping to let fans take pictures but some just stare in shock.
Of course you get stopped by reporters and answer there questions. "So, why are you here Y/n, we had no idea you're a fan of F1?" The reporter asks you just keep your smile on your face. "My husband James Vowles is the team principle for Williams." You smile, loving when you get to gush about him.
"Seriously?" The reporter quickly covers their mouth and tries to make up for what they said but you just give them a tight lip smile and tell them to enjoy the race and walk off. Williams comes into view and you get giddy as you've been busy in Paris for Paris Fashion Week and James with traveling the world.
Walking in, people obviously stare, but you ignore them and make your way to your husband's office smiling. "Knock knock, is there a Mr. James-" You get cut off as James moves quick and pulls you into a hug and closes the door. Giggling you hug him back and take a deep breath of his cologne and relax, feeling at home.
"Did you have trouble getting in?" He pulls back, kissing you gently and you shake your head yes. "I'm world famous, so of course I had trouble, but no one would believe me that I was married to you, kept saying you shot out of your league," You pout, having always hated when people said this.
Because too you, you're the one who traded up. You found this wonderful, smart, loving, man who loved spoiling you and didn't treat you differently because of your job. Some guys don't like it when you model different clothes, or had built your career off of wearing lingerie.
If anything James loved it, and not in a weird way, in way that made you proud and not self-conscious, he made you feel powerful and loved when he got to see you walk the runway, he's your biggest supporter.
"Well it's-" No it's not," You stop him, making James chuckle and nod his head pulling you back into a hug. "It's not true, if anything, I'm the one that traded up." You whisper, James smiles kissing your forehead.
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