#if it was in conversation with other people

[shuttershocky]

Tango were so confident in Hi-Fi Rush that they released it on the same day they announced it; hotdropped it out of nowhere with nothing but a single trailer saying "THIS IS OUR COOL NEW RHYTHM-ACTION GAME IT'S OUT NOW!" and it actually worked. People loved it, it was popular, it wasn't an AAA game but it looked gorgeous and was a complete and polished experience, just an all-around triumph for the devs at Tango Gameworks.

I cannot overemphasize how crazy that is. If you're an indie game launching on Steam (meaning you're operating on a lower budget than most games) one of your first goals is to hit 20,000 wishlists before you launch, since that's the magic number that makes the Steam algo start showing your game to people who don't know you exist. You need months of hard work and good luck to make it, and even then you're still praying that the 20k wishlists actually convert to sales (I've worked on projects that hit 20k wishlists, but with a really low conversion rate so the games still 'failed')

An AA game with a hefty budget would need way more than that to make back its money spent. They would have to compete with AAA games hogging all the attention (and the audience's budget), while not having that scrappy indie culture behind them. If they don't sell enough to make their money back + enough for a new game, that studio is toast.

Hi-Fi Rush's team really went for a hotdrop stunt that would instantly kill 90% of other studios outright, somehow pulled it off spectacularly with a completely new IP that couldn't even fall back on brand recognition, and Microsoft STILL closed them down. They had a miracle team and just fired them all.

There's really nothing you can do to survive in this industry anymore

[sayruq]

Dear Mark Zuckerberg and Leadership, This letter is a follow-up to the letter that was circulated internally on Dec 19, 2023 and deleted and dismissed due to our Community Engagement Expectations (CEE) on what can be discussed internally. Hence, we are sharing our concerns externally. We, Meta employees, wish to express our disappointment and astonishment at the lack of acknowledgement and care the leaders of this company have shown toward the Palestinian community and its allies. In private conversations, we hear from our Palestinian colleagues about family members they have lost in Gaza and family they are working tirelessly to find safety for. However, any open support for our Palestinian colleagues or the millions facing a humanitarian crisis in Palestine is met with internal censorship of employee concerns, biased leadership statements showing one-sided support, and external censorship that is raising public alarm and distrust of our platforms. Internally, we have called out the months of silencing within our workplace forums. While we loudly display “Your voice is valued”, CEE is used as a guise to delete dissenting opinions and silence employees that may simply be seeking solace from their coworkers or raising awareness about building safer products. While in other companies, employees within Employee Resource Groups (ERG) are allowed to connect and speak freely with each other, ERG’s such as Muslims@ and Palestinians@ have faced so much censorship that an employee proposed just deleting the ERG altogether instead of giving the illusion that we can freely build community at Meta. CEE claims to reduce disruptions in our workplace, yet censorship from CEE has caused many of us at Meta to feel disrupted, unheard, and unsafe to the point that several of our Metamates have decided to resign. In the words of our former colleague, any mention of Palestine is taken down - Even when the post was from a colleague expressing their grief. Even when the post was to celebrate the UN International day of support to the Palestinian people. Even when the post is a link to a fundraiser to help the Gazans. Even when asking questions about product bugs that affect Palestinian voices.

One of the original core values of Facebook was to “Be Open” and our current values claim that “We create a culture where we are straightforward and willing to have hard conversations with each other.” Employees have always been first responders to surface issues raised externally to those internally with the power and knowledge to fix them. However when over 450 colleagues came together to sign a letter similar to this one in December, CEE was used to delete the letter and restrict one of the writers from their work devices for over two months while the workplace, product, and policy concerns brought forth were completely ignored. Employees have attempted to raise product concerns related to the conflict only to have their posts and comments censored or dismissed throughout internal channels. Most recently, questions about investigative reports indicating the possibility of governments, ISPs, and coordinated bad actors using Whatsapp data for military targeting have been met with dismissive and insufficient responses or outright deleted throughout internal forums. Meta leaders have posted numerous strong statements of support for our Israeli colleagues along with condemnation of the attack on Israel on October 7th that took the lives of ~1,200 civilians, both on internal and external platforms. Mark stated on his public Facebook - “The terrorist attacks by Hamas are pure evil. There is never any justification for carrying out acts of terrorism against innocent people. The widespread suffering that has resulted is devastating. My focus remains on the safety of our employees and their families in Israel and the region.”

However, bias and inequity is painfully apparent when those same leaders do not similarly share support for our Palestinian colleagues and allies nor condemnation of the attacks on Palestine, which have now taken ~35,000 civilian lives and created a humanitarian crisis of displacement and starvation for ~2 million Palestinians. This has created a hostile and unsafe work environment for hundreds of our Palestinian, Arab, Muslim, anti-Zionist Jew, and anti-genocide colleagues at the company, who have felt consistently alienated and uncomfortable at work. Many have tried to articulate this through posts on Workplace only to be censored, rebuffed, and/or penalized. Feedback shared directly with leadership on Workplace Chat has been met with dismissiveness. Bias and inequity for the human rights and humanitarian crisis in Gaza is also apparent when compared to the Russian invasion of Ukraine, after which there was an outpouring of leadership support on all fronts, including additional resourcing and investment through various social impact initiatives. The lights in the Dublin office were even painted with the colors of the Ukraine flag. Leadership must do better to achieve true equity and inclusion. Externally, when it comes to Palestine, the dismissive tone and lack of investment by Meta is not new and the company has consistently failed to thoroughly take action on years of evidence of suppression of Palestinian voices on our platforms worldwide. In 2024 the company is still slowly addressing the findings of an independent audit influenced by Human Rights Watch’s (HRW) 2021 letter to Meta on the Palestinian conflict 3 years ago. In the wake of October 7th, Meta has ignored reasonable requests for transparency on our content policies from Senator Elizabeth Warren and other lawmakers around the globe. Numerous civil rights organizations, some of whom are Meta partners, have been met with dismissal on the censorship concerns brought forth - leading to external petitions such as one against Meta’s proposed policy of treating “Zionist” as a proxy for "Jewish”, which collected over 52,000 signatures. While Meta denies any Palestinian censorship or bias to the public, internally groups of employee volunteers have found numerous product and policy issues with disparate impacts to Palestinian, Muslim, and Arab communities since October 7th. The few improvements that have been made were achieved only by appealing to isolated product teams, with minimal senior leadership support or resources. Furthermore, in the wake of global criticism of censorship and moderation, leading into the biggest year for democracy in history, Meta has updated its policy to no longer recommend ‘political content’ by default across Instagram and Threads without clear guidelines of how this would impact content originating from global conflict zones. Meta has continued to fail the Palestinian community through its policies and lack of investment.

“Meta.Metamate.Me.” We believe we are all Meta and are committed to respectfully working together to address the issues internally and externally, while holding firmly to the demands we have been echoing for months: We demand an end to censorship - stop deleting employee’s words internally in order to foster an inclusive environment where all communities feel seen, heard, and safe We demand acknowledgment - share internal acknowledgments of support for Palestinian colleagues and acknowledge the lives lost in the ongoing humanitarian crisis in Gaza to recognize our shared humanity We demand transparency and accountability - allocate dedicated resources to investigate issues of censorship and biases on our platforms and openly disclose findings to build trust among employees and the public We implore you to end the silence - issue a public statement urging for an immediate, permanent ceasefire in Gaza As tech workers, we have a tremendous privilege to work on products that serve the world, and with that comes tremendous responsibility. We have been proud to work at Meta – and want to continue believing in its mission to give people the power to build community and bring the world closer together.

If you're a current or former Meta worker please sign the letter here

[imreallyonthishellsite]

People with siblings or know a pair of siblings I've got a question for you

the other day I had a conversation with a guy who said sibling friendships don't really count bc that's family and I'm just like, ??? yeah that's my family but I can also like my sister as a person and have a friendship with her. So I'm just curious to see what the general vibe here is.

btw the "it's complicated" option is for ppl who are either estranged siblings, parenting their siblings, or some other issue they've got going on not any weird freak shit(ifkyk)

Anyways choose your option and if want you can explain in the tags

[dante-mightdie]

need BC!Price where he can be highkey neglectful and mean to you infront of his mates (whether he realises it or not) and they all think ‘what the fuck???’

I know people are gonna hate this but I don’t care I love it

c/w: john is a prick, mean!john, angst

it always happens when he’s around the lads. it’s like you’re watching him switch on you the second he sees them at the pub. at home, he’s your lovely husband. yeah, he can be a bit of an asshole to you but never this mean

it was supposed to be a quiet drink, just the two of you. no kids to stress you out. but then that lads from the site come in and now you’re sat alone at your shared table, waiting for your husband to come back from getting your drink

you check your phone and realise he’s been gone for 20 minutes so you decide to hunt him down. you find him outside, cigarette in one hand and a pint in the other. he’s laughing with the boys and doesn’t even notice you come up beside him

“john?” you call out to him, breaking him from the conversation he was clearly enjoying. “did you get my drink?”

he responds with a ‘hm?’ but quickly follows up with an answer to show he did actually hear you, he was just stalling to come up with an excuse, “forgot, love. take my card and go get yourself one.”

you frown when he just shoves his card into your hands before turning back to carry on his conversation, one of the lads giving you a sympathetic smile. you twist your head to look at the bar and cringe when you see how crowded it is

“john? can you come with-?” you ask, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention but he snaps his head to you, raising a finger up to his lips

“shush, love. I’m talking.” he says with a mildly agitated voice. he turns to carry on speaking but gives his attention to you one last time, “get me a pint whilst you’re up there.”

[dunmeshistash]

Something I really appreciate in Dungeon Meshi is how much "restraint" Ryoko Kui shows when telling this story. It's so clearly crafted to be the best story it can be.

By that I mean how she had SO MUCH world building for this story but still kept it as contained as it needed to be, it's a story about a few characters inside one dungeon, even if the world is expansive the story isn't. And even with the amount of characters she clearly loves so much she never got side tracked as I see so many other mangas get. The world is alive, other people exist fully with their own lives, but it stays true to the story that's being told in this universe.

I think it really shines through with how the world building relevant to the story is slowly shown to us in a non expository way, that's also something I see a lot, especially in movies, just stopping everything on it's tracks so they can info dump about the world to you, but in dungeon meshi its all so organic... magic is explained because some characters are ignorant, cultural differences are shown through cultural clashes, world history is implied through relevant conversation (monster facts are info-dumped to us but even that is in character) it's all really good and I don't think I could have gotten this into it if everything was just laid out in front of me right away.

This is all to say I'm glad we have the adventurer's bible and all this extra content that didn't fit into the story but I'm glad they weren't forced into it in detriment to the storytelling.

[ktgoodmorning]

Superstar

Alexia Putellas x reader

Inspired by the song superstar by MARINA. Alexia misses you after a rough away game when you aren't there to comfort her.

Masterlist

Before I met you, I pushed them all away Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay What I like about you is you know who you are What you like about me is I know what I'm not

You had never really cared much about dating before. It’s not that you were opposed to having a partner that you could share your life with, it just always seemed like more of an inconvenience for you. The idea of someone trying to constantly tag along with you and share everything made you cringe, causing you to never intentionally pursue a romantic relationship. 

Those that knew you liked to say it was because you had been raised “fiercely independent”, while your closest friends liked to say you were just scared and avoiding being hurt. In reality, it was likely a combination of both, and no matter what the reason was, you didn't really care. At times when someone came along, you would push them away before it could get too serious, usually after becoming annoyed with some minute little habit they had. So you never really imagined getting into a serious relationship before. 

Not before Alexia. 

Alexia changed everything for you. The way that she didn’t try to cling onto you so hard is exactly what drew you together. Both of you had similar feelings when it came to dating and it worked perfectly. You gave each other the space you needed while still fitting your lives together in the ways you wanted to. 

When you first started seeing each other, your friends had given you a lecture that you shouldn’t push her away, unknowing it was something that Alexia had been told by her own friends as well. The moment you shared your first kiss, you both knew that this relationship was something you’d be willing to fight for. As much as it scared you to commit to another person, it was even scarier to imagine a life without her.

.

It was after your second date that you received a text from her, shortly after dropping you off at home: “I should have kissed you.” It made you smile knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were. You both wanted it and yet you both chickened out, something that was extremely rare for either of you. 

She was all you could think about until your next date which came only a few days later, moving quicker than you were normally willing to. You had gotten lunch together before going on a walk along the beach, eventually sitting next to each other in the sand to look out at the ocean and get to know each other further. Alexia was known to be quieter around people she didn’t know well, especially when they weren’t footballers. In a way, she was so consumed with the sport that she felt like she didn't know how to talk to people who didn’t feel the same, but here she was, opening up to you more than ever before. Something about your conversation made it feel so easy and effortless in a way neither of you were used to. 

You sat talking for hours, migrating closer together as you did so. Eventually you leaned into her slightly, still too scared to make eye contact, just giggling and talking while you watched the waves crash against the shore. Some of your conversation was more serious, talking about your upbringings, but just as easily, the two of you would turn to quickly joking around and poking fun at each other. It was the perfect mix of deeper conversations while still having fun. 

 When the conversation came to a lul, you could feel her eyes on you, making you turn to finally meet them. Nerves were radiating from her, almost making you feel them yourself. She was terrified of messing it up with you and you were equally as terrified, both sharing glances down at each other’s lips but too scared to actually move any further. 

“Can I kiss you?” she breathed out, hardly audible, her eyes glued to your lips. 

“Please.” That was all she needed to hear, immediately using one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into her.

The kiss was perfect, somehow much better than any you’d had before, even though you knew it was just because of the girl in front of you and the way she had you feeling better than you ever had. It was the perfect mix of gentle yet still confident, moving slowly and with purpose against you. Alexia’s nerves seemingly disappeared the second that she finally made the move. 

And that was the moment both of you felt something change. Something about what you had together was different, the idea of pushing her away, unfathomable. Suddenly, you could understand all the people that got clingy with their significant other. The idea of sharing your life didn’t feel so bad, as long as it was with Alexia.

And I, I know that you never sleep Oh, so impossible to dream When you're far away from me Oh, I, I'm all you could ever need Oh, so impossible to breathe

From that moment on, your lives had quickly become intertwined, still independent in yourselves but able to let your guard down when you came home to her. It was a constant that brought both of you great comfort, knowing you’d always have the other to love and back you up no matter what. 

It was exactly this that Alexia came to rely on. Anytime she had a bad game, all she needed was to come home to you and settle into your arms. She rarely slept after games in general and that wasn’t something that changed easily, but at the very least, you were able to help her relax and get some much-needed rest.

 She was grateful that you never lectured her about her lack of sleep or somewhat insane mindset when it came to football. Most people in her life were quick to scold her about working herself too hard but you were just there to open your arms as soon as she realized she needed it. It’s not that you liked it, you knew it wasn’t good for her, but you understood it. You were often considered a workaholic yourself, something that made the two of you work well together. So when she was finally willing to admit she needed a break, you would always be there to take one with her.

Neither of you realized how much you’d come to rely on each other until you were forced to be apart. You both liked to pretend that you were okay on your own if you needed to be, but when times got tough, it became much more difficult. 

It was after an away game, one that you weren’t able to attend due to your job. The game hadn’t gone well, especially by your girlfriend’s standards. It had resulted in a draw for Barcelona that Alexia placed entirely on her shoulders. She had missed more shots than she should have, made too many mistakes, and should have been able to pull out the win. Of course nobody else had thought any of those things, but Alexia fully believed it. 

She was lucky enough to have gotten a single room, a perk of being captain she supposed, which was good considering how restless she was following the game. The more she tossed and turned, the more frustrated she got. It was normal for her to be worked up after a game so it shouldn't have been surprising that that was the case now, especially after such a rough game. 

All Alexia could think about was you and being in your arms, at home and safe, smelling your mix of perfume and body wash radiating off of you. It had only been a few days since she had seen you but the thought was all-consuming. She wanted nothing more than to lay with you, listening to you ramble quietly as you fell asleep, hardly making sense. 

The more she thought about it, the more she missed you. The frustration had grown to a level that almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off the blankets, flipped her pillow, and tossed around, unable to find any resolution. After trying all her usual things to help rid her of her post-game adrenaline, she knew exactly what she needed to do, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Before either of you would be gone, you would always say, “call me if you need anything, or even if you don’t!” It always made Alexia roll her eyes, never actually doing it unless just out of boredom

Nothing terrified either of you more than the idea of “needing anything.” Your girlfriend wasn’t one to rely on someone else and the thought of it made her heart race. What if her call woke you up? Your sleep schedule was messed up enough she knew you’d likely be awake but she wasn’t sure she should risk it. She didn’t want to bother you. What if her neediness scared you away? 

At this point, her internal conflict and massive frustration had tears running down her face, something that only freaked her out further. Alexia rarely cried and yet here she was, alone in her hotel room, sobbing like a baby while she stared at your contact page pulled up on her phone. She spent a while with her thumb hovering over the call button before finally giving in and pressing it, filled with embarrassment over needing your comfort. 

I love the way we worked so hard Yeah, we've come so far Baby, look at me, you're my superstar When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark Come and save my day, you're my superstar

The second you picked up and she heard your voice, she immediately relaxed.

“Ale? Are you okay?” Your voice was somewhat rough; she hadn’t woken you up although you hadn’t been far from sleep when your phone lit up with her face.

“Sí, estoy bien, sólo te extrañé.” you could hear the exhaustion in her voice and knew she was lying just because of the time she was calling you. If you really wanted to see how she was doing, you’d need to see her face as it was usually easy for you to read, especially when you knew she wouldn’t be willing to admit whatever was wrong.

“Why don’t you FaceTime me? I want to see you.” you pressed the button before she had time to object. Even though it was dark, you could tell she was struggling just from the blank look on her face. “Ale, what’s wrong?”

Your girlfriend went silent, refusing to make eye contact. 

“Talk to me, amor. You can tell me anything, remember? I won’t judge you, I just want to help you.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t mean to wake you up, it’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t say that. You didn’t even wake me up, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on with you.” When you were met with more silence, you took it upon yourself to try to fill in the gaps, knowing that if you were wrong about something she’d jump in to correct you.

 “Are you beating yourself up over the draw tonight?” Her lack of response gave you all the information you needed to know you were right, letting out a sigh over how critical she was of herself. 

“Ale, do you realize how good you are? You are so talented, more than anyone I know, but even you can’t expect to single-handedly win a game. Nobody was playing their best today, and you know that. If you had won, you would never say that you were the sole reason you won. So you can’t say you’re the sole reason you lost.” 

She gave you a small shrug, “I don’t know. I just feel like I could’ve done better.”

“Alexia Putellas, look at me. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you realize that you’re a good football player?”

You were met with more silence, her eyes darting away from yours once again.

“Alexia, you’re the same person who won all those awards. Just because it was before your ACL doesn’t mean it wasn't you. You’re still that same person, that same amazing, incredible, record-breaking footballer. And besides that, every one of your teammates looks up to you. I look up to you.” This got her attention. As soon as you said it, her eyes met yours. 

“Why would you look up to me, amor? You work so hard and are accomplishing so much and-.”

“Ale, do you hear yourself? That’s literally what you’re doing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way everyone does, really.” Her eyebrows were scrunched together, almost confused by your words, forcing you to continue. “Like I said, you’re so insanely talented, Alexia. But that’s not even the reason everyone loves you, at least not the reason I do. I love the way you dedicate yourself to the things you love, the people you love. If you missed every shot you ever took, I’d still love you just as much, so would your family, so would everyone. It’s about so much more than just how you play. It’s about how you cheer me up when I’m pissed off about work stuff and the way you are constantly making me feel better about myself than I ever could on my own. You are a superstar in every way, and only a tiny part of that has anything to do with how you play.”

You never judge me for any of my fears Never turn your back, always keep my body near All of the days that we spend apart My love is a planet revolving your heart

When you looked up from your speech, you could see tear tracks running down her cheeks, trying her best to hold it together. “Ale, amor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” she shook her head quickly, wiping her tears away. “I’m not upset, I promise. I don’t know what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest, but I’m not upset.” 

“See if you can tell me about it, even if it doesn’t all make sense, that’s okay. Just try.” 

You watched her take a deep breath in hopes of getting her thoughts together before speaking again. “I’m so tired. I know that. And I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to think about right now. But these are happy tears I think. I just can’t believe how good you are to me and how lucky I am. All the things you said to me, just made me so grateful for you. And I normally don’t talk about stuff like this, you know that. But the way you always know what to say and don’t make me feel crazy. I just- I don’t even know. I think what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for sticking with me, even when I’m losing it.”

We'll stick together Make it through the storm You and I Whoever said we couldn't have it all?

Alexia finally gave you a soft smile as she caught her breath, much calmer now that she had gotten all her thoughts off her chest. 

“You don’t have to thank me, Ale, and you’re not losing it. I’ve missed you too and as much as that’s weird for us, I think that’s how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work.” you both chuckled lightly, knowing how new you both were to the feelings you shared. “But everything I said is true, I really mean it.”

“I appreciate it, amor. There’s no one else I’d rather navigate this stuff with. I feel like when I talk to you, you make it all make sense. Like we can figure out anything.”

“Well I don’t know about anything, but we can sure try. Although I think you sound like you’re falling asleep so maybe we’ll save the figuring out everything for tomorrow, okay?” 

Alexia gave you a nod while doing her best to conceal a yawn, much more tired than she realized now that she had calmed down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight mi amor. I love you.”

“I love you, Alexia. Call me if you need anything else, or even if you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at the sentiment, just as she always did, but smiled at herself as she hung up, grateful that she had called, whether she was willing to admit she needed something or not.

Masterlist

[chestharrington]

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him. 

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it. 

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about. 

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch. 

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it. 

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing. 

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing. 

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse. 

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him. 

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line. 

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat. 

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach. 

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him. 

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot. 

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth. 

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more. 

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing. 

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer. 

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire. 

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that. 

So he thought about something else. 

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world. 

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds? 

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer. 

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper. 

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve?  Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again,  and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller. 

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice. 

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers. 

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least. 

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week. 

  He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently. 

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?” 

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave. 

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own. 

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air. 

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure. 

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead. 

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy. 

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground. 

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs. 

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway. 

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch. 

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper. 

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight. 

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line. 

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming. 

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing. 

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer. 

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased. 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.” 

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were. 

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work. 

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school. 

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job. 

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy. 

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone. 

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks. 

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile. 

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked. 

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud. 

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him. 

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless. 

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed. 

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.” 

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it. 

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift. 

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call. 

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him. 

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit. 

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers. 

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy. 

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react. 

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them. 

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned. 

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay. 

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register. 

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really. 

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him. 

God, you were going to make him pay for that later. 

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper. 

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited. 

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry. 

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank. 

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N. 

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person. 

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him. 

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention. 

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples. 

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. 

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly. 

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy. 

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable. 

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court. 

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy. 

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile. 

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment,  but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice. 

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice. 

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable. 

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break. 

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows. 

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself. 

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line. 

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more. 

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning. 

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it. 

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already. 

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of. 

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion. 

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need. 

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh. 

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel. 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat. 

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically. 

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him. 

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down. 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily. 

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him. 

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo. 

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified. 

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually. 

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his. 

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his. 

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop. 

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way. 

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh. 

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.” 

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. 

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages. 

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot. 

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop. 

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside. 

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls. 

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him. 

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra. 

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right. 

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

 He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction. 

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched. 

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you. 

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you. 

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough. 

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance. 

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl. 

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release. 

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling. 

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. 

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand. 

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?” 

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling. 

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch. 

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt. 

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy. 

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock. 

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself. 

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase. 

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan. 

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin. 

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

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Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

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2 months before

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May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

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June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Hi, guys. This part of the Baby Fever Angst series, which will include smaus for other drivers. Daniel’s part has already been posted.

I have part 2 planned if people want it but also happy to leave it like this if people don't want them to have redemption haha

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

[ellecdc]

okay but….

what about an angsty/fluffy fic for poly!maruaders + lily x reader. like the reader gets overwhelmed to she leaves when their hanging out or something and the marauders + lily get terrified that they did something wrong 😔 but they comfort her and make sure shes okay! 🫶🏻

aawwwweeeeee

marauders + lily x fem!reader when things become too much for her

CW: brief panic/panic attack, healthy coping skills though, hurt with comfort, also run on sentences used as a tool to portray panic - the gif I made uses artwork by @/upthehillart

You had to admit that the combined bravery of four Gryffindors could, at times, be contagious. 

One example of having contracted momentary bouts of boldness was when Remus, Lily, James, and Sirius convinced you that Marlene’s birthday party was going to be ‘a lot of fun’. 

And between James’ excitement, Sirius’ cocky confident smirk, Lily’s hopeful smile, and Remus’ reassuring eyes, you believed them.

And it had been fun; at least getting ready with Lily in the boys dorm room as they all wolf whistled and showered you with compliments every time you pulled a brush through your hair or tried on a new top.

It had even been fun when you got downstairs and watched James, Sirius, and Lily dance their hearts out from your place curled up on Remus’ lap.

But then….

But then there were far more dancers on the floor. And then James came over, begging you and Remus to join them on the floor to which you staunchly refused but insisted Remus didn’t need to sit here on your behalf. And then everyone came back to the sofas but so did Marlene and Mary and Dorcas and Peter and Benjy and Gideon and Fabian and Emmeline and Amelia and Frank and Alice. And then they started a game of Truth or Dare during which they mercifully allowed you to fade into the background, but then you quickly became horribly embarrassed that they were handling you with kid gloves. And then you became embarrassed that you had to be handled with kid gloves. And then a conversation started about the hottest people at Hogwarts and Sirius began bragging that he was dating most of them, shooting you a salacious wink as he pulled Lily tight into his side. And then James joined in to say the group of you were five tens which basically made you 500’s and then Peter had to tell James that he wasn’t doing the maths properly and then you felt like the noise of everyone’s voices talking over each other was a physical presence in the room that was slowly closing in around you and you could feel everyone looking at you and those who weren’t looking at you were definitely thinking about you and it was too much, too much, too much.

So, as James had Peter in a headlock and Lily was on Remus’ lap and Sirius was standing behind the chair that Remus and Lily were currently occupying, leaning forward on his elbows as he cheered James on, you snuck through the portrait hole and rushed down the halls of the ancient castle to look for a hiding spot to completely break down. 

Sirius felt his blood run cold when he looked up only to see you missing from your seat.

Damn it. He knew; he knew he should have been sitting with you.

Remus had told him and James to keep an eye on you, which was Remus-talk for “don’t overwhelm her, you sods”, so he refrained. 

But now you were gone and it was probably his fault.

He quickly tapped Remus’ shoulder as he moved to haul James off of Peter (who never even thanked Sirius for his service, mind you) and made for the portrait hole.

“What the hells, Pads!?” James pouted petulantly. “I was winning!” 

“I don’t know where our girl went.” He stated, ignoring James’ protest as he looked up and down the hall outside of the Gryffindor common room.

“Well here’s one.” James offered as Lily stepped through the portrait hole, quickly followed by Remus.

“What’s going on?” Lily asked.

“Where’s dovey?” Remus added severely, moving down the hall as if following her trail. 

“I don’t know.” Sirius admitted; his voice falling far more vulnerable than his usual boastful and arrogant affectation. 

James quickly moved over and pulled Sirius into his side. “I think it was my fault.” He whispered miserably.

“No Pads.” James reassured. “I was being too much.”

“I shouldn’t have made her feel pressured to come.” Remus said with a sigh. 

“We shouldn’t have drawn attention to her.” Lily mused as she chewed on her cuticles. “Oh god, what if this was too much? What if we’re too much? What if this is what makes her decide she can’t handle us?” 

“Whoa, whoa.” James interjected, pulling Lily’s hand away from her mouth. “How about we start with finding her, yeah?”

Lily and the boys were in agreement as they began their search of the castle. 

You felt ridiculously childish sitting on the cold stone floor hugging your knees to your chest as tears fell silently in some random alcove on the fourth floor of Gryffindor tower.

What were they thinking, being with someone as pathetic as you? This would do it, certainly; this is what would make them realise you weren’t worth their time. You couldn’t even sit through one sodding party for their sakes. 

You were such a fraud, agreeing to participate in a relationship you had no business in; silly, foolish, selfish.

They were all going to know it.

You were spiralling, that much was clear. You knew you tended to get like this when things became too much.

“Don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater, Y/N.” You sighed to yourself, closing your eyes as you tried to take some steadying breaths.

Your breathing exercises were interrupted when you heard hurried footsteps making their way towards you. 

“Y/N?” Sirius called out quietly; though he may as well have screamed at you with the way your heart sped up and your breathing became erratic, eliciting a fresh stream of tears to start cascading down your face. 

“Hey, hey babydoll.” He cooed at you as he knelt beside you; the others appearing behind him with matching looks of concern. “You’re alright baby, you’re okay. Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

You let out a choked sob and shook your head quickly, causing Sirius to turn behind him in search of help. 

“Here, angel.” James said, taking Sirius’ spot and pulling you into his lap before wrapping his strong arms around you and squeezing. “But you have to take some big breaths for me, okay? Can we do them together?”

You worked hard to try to emulate the dramatic breaths James was taking for your benefit; and though yours were far shallower and much more shaky, he showered you with praises at every exhale. 

“What happened, darling?” Lily asked cautiously as she knelt in front of you and James, taking a moment to push some of your hair away from your face. 

“Too much.” You admitted through a hiccup, keeping your answer short lest your breathing become erratic again.

“Were we too much?” Sirius asked, his voice timid and his face vulnerable; you hated it.

You hated it even more knowing that you were the one to put it there.

“I’m not good enough.” You blurted; voice uncharacteristically high as you spoke through an ever present lump in your throat. “I can’t be-be brave like you, I…I can’t. I tried but I- I can’t. And I’m not good enough; I’m no good for you.” 

“Well that’s enough of that.” Remus decided; words strict but tone soft. “I like to think I’m able to decide what’s ‘good enough’ for me, and I’ve decided that’s you.”

“Yeah, and Moony’s the smartest out of all of us, so I trust his judgement.” James teased gently, wiggling his arms around you in an attempt to get you to smile.

“Well I take offence to that.” Lily responded as she looked at James wryly. 

“Second smartest.” Remus corrected; nudging Lily with his foot.

“Now that may not say much about them, though.” Sirius continued, his voice taking on the tone alerting you to his particular brand of teasing. “I mean, they do willingly put up with me and Prongs.”

James scoffed in faux offence as Lily and Remus chuckled. 

“If we can put up with these two,” Lily said as she dramatically motioned towards her two boyfriends with her head. “Then you’re a breeze, my love.”

You let out a sigh and burrowed your face into James’ neck who was all too happy to snuggle you closer.

“What upset you, dolly?” Sirius asked gently.

“It was just…”

“A lot?” Remus offered, causing you to nod.

“Anything we could have done to make it less…much?” Sirius offered again.

You left your sanctuary in James’ neck to look up at the long-haired boy before offering him your hand.

As if he’d only been waiting for the offer, he quickly fell to his knees beside you and pulled your hand into his chest with both of his. 

“I don’t want any of you to be less.” You whispered.

James let out an awe as he snuggled you closer and Sirius pressed a small kiss to your knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you all leave your friend’s party.” You admitted shamefully. “I’m sorry; you don’t have to stay here with me; I can just go to bed.”

James made a protesting sound as Sirius scoffed and Remus shook his head with a fond smile.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we are exactly where we want to be, darling.” Lily offered with a wink. 

You had to admit that you were, too.

[harunayuuka2060]

Random student: There's a rumor going around that Jade has feelings for you.

Random student: What are you gonna do?

Chubby MC: What do you mean?

Random student: I mean, someone likes you. Aren't you happy about that?

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: You want me to act foolishly and get my hopes up?

Random student: N-No?

Chubby MC: *looking sternly at him*

Random student: ...

Chubby MC: Stop with that rumor and get a life.

Chubby MC: You're just bothering people.

Jade: *who was listening in their conversation*

Jade: Hello, MC.

Chubby MC: Oh, hi, Jade. What's up?

Jade: *smiles* You seem upset.

Chubby MC: *sigh* It's nothing.

Jade: This is about the rumors of me having feelings for you, isn't it?

Chubby MC: ...

Jade: Actually, I—

Chubby MC: *glares at him*

Jade: *his eyes widened*

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: I expected more from you, Jade. *walks away*

Jade: MC—

Azul: I can't blame them for thinking that way.

Jade: Why? Did something happen to them in the past?

Azul: ...

Azul: They believed a rumor and they happened to like the person.

Azul: It turned out that it was only to embarrass them and nothing more.

Jade: ...

Jade: MC, can we talk?

Chubby MC: No need. I understand that it was just a prank.

Jade: ...

Jade: I like you.

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: Who did you have a bet with?

Jade: Pardon?

Chubby MC: You're persistent in getting a reaction from me.

Jade: MC—

Chubby MC: It wouldn't be a problem to you if you just make up stories about it, right?

Chubby MC: Or you need a recorded reaction? Sorry. I'm not good at acting.

Jade: ...

Jade: *chuckles*

Chubby MC: ...

Jade: *smiles at them, amused*

Jade: I find it really charming when you don't allow others to take advantage of you.

Chubby MC: What?

Jade: *smiles even more*

Jade: Someday, I'll have the opportunity to prove just how sincere I am to you.

Chubby MC: ...

Chubby MC: That opportunity will never arrive.

Jade: *smirks* Try me.

[matchaverse]

cultural shock | MV1

pairing: max verstappen x sargeant!fem!reader

summary: after a few months of long distance dating with max, you finally head over to europe to spend time with him but you’re hit with a huge fashion cultural shock.

type: smau

face claim: pictures from pinterest

“what do you mean this isn’t decent enough to out shopping?” you ask ask you look down at your levi shorts, cropped blue tank top and high top converse.

“we’re literally just going shopping, plus it’s hot out max”

“yes babe, but over here in europe it’s expected for people to dress fashionably and chic.” max says as he fixes his dark blue polo shirt.

you stand there looking confused until you pull out your phone and google european casual fashion. 

[instagram] yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, and 738,738 others

tagged | @maxverstappen1

yourusername | so i didn’t know there was a dress code in europe 🫥

maxverstappen1: baby it’s much different over there than the states

yourusername: i hate it.

username: y/n getting hit with a cultural shock rn

username: yall expect the southern girl to know european fashion trends?

username: maybe she should do her research 🤷‍♀️

logansargeant: is this why you sent a picture of your cowboy boots and said “rip”?

yourusername: yes😭

maxverstappen1: DO NOT WEAR THE BOOTS

[instagram] maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, charlesleclerc, and 739,849 others

tagged | @yourusername

maxverstappen1 | i couldn’t stop her. 😒

yourusername: U S A. U S A!! 🦅🦅

charlesleclerc: PLEASE 😭😭 why is she like this

yourusername: CANT STOP THE SOUTHERN CHARM

username: oh that’s not…

username: no matter what she wears, y/n slays no matter what!!

username: she’s adorable, don’t make her change the way she dresses

username: 🚩🚩

username: for y/n and her boots? or max trying to dictate what she wears?

[instagram] yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, and 738,739 others

tagged | @maxverstappen1

yourusername | i can now fit both aesthetics 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen1: absolutely gorgeous in both continents

username: stawp she’s so cute!!!

username: max in a cowboy hat?!

maxverstappen1: yeehaw 🤠

logansargeant: 🦅🦅🦅

yourusername: BRINGING STATE FASHION TO EUROPE

[erwinsvow]

little sad bitchy!reader moment: her and rafe are at the country club with topper and kelce and some other friends of rafe and one of the guys starts saying how she would be a horrible wife and mother (bc of the way she is) and she honestly is so hurt by it and i think she would almost try to change the way she is around rafe a little just so he wouldn’t think that about her…

sobbing thinking about it and listening to this (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLX2Pdcv/)

hi my love this was so amazing and wonderful to write! im sorry its kinda long, hope you like it ♡

in all honestly, you stopped caring what people said about you a long time ago. you weren't the way you were because it was funny, or to get a reaction out of others. that was just the way you've always been, and there was nothing you hated more than letting people walk all over you and get away it.

that must be why the comebacks would fly out of your mouth before you could stop them, if you even wanted to stop them. why you never stopped to think twice about the people who didn't want to talk to you again or the boys who didn't want a second date.

you weren't easy to handle, not that you wanted to be, but you knew you weren't.

it seemed easy enough for rafe though.

he never seemed to wish that you'd bite your tongue or tell you to act differently, behave a certain way. no, he'd laugh and fire back something, or agree with you and say something you remember to add to your collection of insults.

rafe liked you as you were. that's why he fought so long and hard to get you, something that you didn't take lightly. you were committed, and the more days that went by, you found yourself softening up more and more with him.

rafe knew a side of you that a select few had ever seen, much less engaged with. you liked it this way, having a boyfriend you could be yourself around and be a little soft around.

until you overhear a boy at the club talking about you. in all your years of life, you've never let a boy make you feel upset, and you didn't want to start now. a comeback brews the second he mentions your name—of course it's the idiot one, the one whose parents pay for his grades and doesn't know anything besides losing at pong and scaring away girls—but it dies in your throat when you hear the words that follow.

"i mean i get it, she's hot, but i don't know how cameron puts up with her."

"what're you talking about? she's just like him," kelce says, and you feel briefly grateful for him.

"dude, she's a bitch. i've never heard one nice thing come out of her mouth. totally untamed. you can't bring a girl like that home to your folks, they'd hate her. especially his folks. and don't even mention long-term. imagine coming home after working all day and your girl is bitching at you? i mean, no offense but what kind of kids is she gonna raise?"

you hear laughter, and when your face feels wet, and you're confused for a moment. you look up at the ceiling, wondering if there's a leak, when your eyes flood again and more tears fall down.

crying, and that too over what one of rafe's friends said about you. this isn't like you. frankly, it's pathetic. those idiotic boys don't know the first thing about you or your relationship with rafe—they don't know the conversations you have and all the things you both agree on and the way he laughs when you fire back at him.

but somehow, feet leading you outside and to your car, fingers texting rafe some excuse for why you went home early, you end up letting it affect you.

rafe comes over the next morning—he texted you something but you didn't reply. worried for a moment about something you've never been concerned with before, you think a nicer girl would have texted him back right away, that you should have texted him back.

he doesn't knock, never does. your parents aren't home but he has your spare key, letting himself in and up to your room. he stops at the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"hey. what happened last night?" he asks it like he doesn't know what happened—which is good, you want it to stay that way. the thing you would have said yesterday bubbles up, coming to your lips. maybe if you'd gotten your head out of your ass, you'd see my text.

"wasn't feeling good. came home."

"you feelin' okay now?" he gets closer to you, and you look up at your boyfriend. i'd be fine but that asshole you already hate ruined my mood. will you run him over in your truck?

"better." you stop for a moment, you don't want him to think something's wrong. "how was your night?" he looks at you a little confused.

"it was fine. borin' without you. kelce asked where you went too."

"y'know i always liked kelce," you say, smiling again. you think you can get better at this.

rafe takes you out for lunch, and then you wanted to go shopping in the afternoon and get your nails done. it's a whole day, and you like spending it with him. you swallow down what your mind usually thinks and opt for being nice instead, polite questions and trepid commentary.

the waiter brings you the wrong drink—and though you're not so much of a bitch to hurl insults at teenager servers, you're normally annoyed enough to say something and get your correct drink. instead you sip it quietly, waiting for rafe to start the conversation. when you don't, he looks at you in that confused way again.

"you okay?"

"yeah. fine. you okay?"

if he thinks something's wrong, he doesn't say anything. at the mall, nothing looks how you want and even the things you like don't feel right. you'd let rafe buy you whatever you want, normally giving him a twirl in the dressing room and thanking him very sweetly.

"you want that dress?" rafe asks, his arm resting on a rack while you comb through mindlessly.

"no, it was too short."

"that's never been an issue before." ha-ha. pervert. looking up my skirt aren't you? knew you were desperately horny for me but this is down bad even for you.

"trying to dress better. and it'll be cold soon."

"hey, look at me." rafe uses his hands on your shoulders to turn you from the clothes, facing him. "you okay baby?"

fuck, you know you messed up. he only calls you that when he's being serious—the rest of the time it's princess, angel, sweetheart. all things that you are definitely not.

"i'm okay. i just don't want it. but thank you." you don't know it, but he thinks you're upset with him, spending the next hour in the nail salon racking his mind for the reason why.

your nails are fine, they look pretty enough. shorter than normal with a clean french manicure, you admire them from a distance. you suddenly feel like crying again, wondering why you didn't get the pink acrylics you like, rhinestones and bows and all the other things that were pretty to look at when you flipped people off.

in rafe's passenger seat after, you keep staring at your hands, feeling another tear slip down. rafe's not looking at you, he's looking ahead, still unsure what was going on.

"baby, if i did something you gotta tell me, i don't like seein' you like this-" when he turns his head to glance at you, you're looking back at him with your pouty face and wet cheeks—two things he's never seen before. "hey. what's wrong?"

you couldn't stop the downpour if you tried—tears falling quick and fast. you hate that anyone's seeing you like this, especially rafe.

rafe is nice to you, and you soften up around him. you didn't really realize that he softens up around you too. he wipes your tears away, keeps a hand on yours the whole time.

"can you talk to me? what's goin' on?"

"yesterday.. one of those guys said that i was a bitch-"

"which one? to your face? when? i'll fuckin' kill him-"

"no, he didn't know i was there. it's not that, i know i am. i don't care about that. he said that-" your voice cracks, something else you hate, that you don't want rafe hearing. "sorry. he said you couldn't bring me home. and that you would hate coming home to me-me being all mean. and that our kids would be mean too."

yes, you're mean. but rafe's mean too, and none of your friends have ever said anything like that about him. you like that he's mean, that he's like you—you think he's the closest thing to a soulmate you could ever find.

"don't fuckin' listen to any of them for a second, got it? they don't know anything."

"rafe, i-"

"no, seriously. they yap because i wasn't there to knock him out. and he says it when you're gone 'cause he knows you'd make him cry if you were there." you sniffle, though you already feel better.

"but i didn't. i started crying instead." you hate even thinking about it.

"s'okay, it happens. but don't believe a word of that shit. i wanna come home to you everyday. hear everything you say. i want all of it."

"really?" you ask him, wiping away your tears, appreciating the hand on your thigh and how sincerely he's looking at you. "i thought you'd be mean if i cried in front of you."

"it's hard enough to be mean to you."

"you're such a sap. should we go get ice cream and braid each others hair after this?" he laughs, and you laugh. "thanks rafey."

"no problem, kid."

"don't call me that." rafe groans, and you smile.

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

[lyssasdrafts]

unrequited love (part 2) — azriel x reader

description: (part 1) azriel realizes you’ve been avoiding him, he confronts you and the mating bond snaps between the both of you.

includes: angst with a happy ending, mating bond, emotional azriel

@cumuluscranium @anuttellaa @cupidojenphrodite @saltedcoffeescotch @tele86 asked to be tagged for pt2 !!

azriel didn’t deserve a mate.

he never once bothered to consider himself as someone who could be loved. he wasn’t beautiful or charismatic like rhysand, he wasn’t strong or resilient like cassian. azriel was the boy who had grown up in isolation. the boy who never once saw the light outside his window. the boy who was left alone in that cold cellar for so many years, who had the scars to show for it. who could ever love someone with a past like that?

azriel knew he wasn’t easy to be around. he saw the way that you shivered when you first met him, the way your gaze always drifted whenever it met his eyes. was he really that intimidating? azriel saw the way you hesitated around him, how nervous you were when he spoke. he felt the way you stared at him whenever you thought he wasn’t watching. for whatever reason, it made his heart beat faster whenever you did that.

you were just one of the many people he’s probably scared. azriel knew he could be quite uninviting towards the people around him . even when he tried to start any conversations, the way the words became dry on his lips and his voice left his throat felt discouraging.

his friends always laughed and talked around him while he reluctantly nodded along and gave small smiles. his family, his friends. azriel sometimes wondered why they stayed with him for long, the centuries they spent as a court blurring together and they still never urged him. they never overstepped his boundaries, perhaps because they didn’t care enough, or perhaps they knew he wouldn’t talk about it. but perhaps that was a good thing. nobody questioned the dark look in his eyes whenever he came back from his missions, rhysand just nodded and told him that he did a good job, moving on to his other high lord responsibilities.

azriel watched as rhysand taught his son how to fly, the way his friend grinned proudly whenever nyx stretched out his tiny wings. he found it within himself to smile at the sight of them too, despite the feeling that something heavy weighed in his heart, something that weighed his every movement.

azriel took a glance at the childhood that he never had, the one that he never will have, he corrected. azriel would never forget the days he’d spent alone, trapped in that dark cellar. he wondered if the light within his eyes that slowly dimmed each moment that passed would ever return. perhaps it was unfair for azriel to wish for someone to make it come back. it was unfair for him to ever wish himself upon anyone.

he was reminded of all this again when cassian had asked you about having a mate, to which you softly answered “no.” at least that made the both of you.

“what about you, azriel?” you asked him. the glint in your eyes, your pretty smile, it took everything within himself to say no to you. he stared at you for a moment before giving his response, as sharply as possible.

“i don’t have a mate,” azriel said coldly. “and i don’t want one.”

you nodded politely in response, the smile suddenly fading from your lips. you glanced at cassian, seeming uneasy. he watched as cassian walked you home, feeling a pang of envy in his chest that you hadn’t trusted him instead. azriel shook off the feeling, perhaps there had just been something wrong with him that day.

and since then, azriel began noticing your quiet absences from his life. he heard the wind carry away your laughter from afar, he witnessed the way you joked and smiled as usual at training. whenever he came around though, it would be dead silent. azriel once met your gaze everyday at training, only for you to start looking at the ground now when speaking to him.

he didn’t know he started envisioning you whenever he closed his eyes, how your words echoed through his mind when he was supposed to be asleep. he didn’t realize how attached he was to your presence, how much he longed for you.

azriel had always known longing. azriel longed to feel comforted, to feel loved. to be touched and held with the intimacy that he only watched his brothers feel with their own mates. but somehow, he only wanted it to be you. it was strange, the way his feelings gravitated towards you.

he needed to confront this, he needed to confront his own attraction towards you and why you had ignored him.

he tried seeking you out after practice, but instead you kept walking away, turning away at the sight of him only for him to find you again in another room alone. azriel leaned against the door frame, blocking your exit so that he could speak with you.

“you’re avoiding me,” azriel said.

your eyes widened in shock at first, you hadn’t realized he would even notice you. your face twists, “i haven’t been. you just don’t seem interested-”

“did i do something wrong?” his voice shifted, his tone softened. azriel looked down on you with his hazel eyes, pleading for something, anything. you gave him a glare before muttering a quick, “no,” and walking towards the door.

he grabbed your wrist, a chill went down his spine. the moment stopped for both of you, simply staring at each other in silence. the realization flashed before him as he looked into your eyes, how they stared up at him in anticipation.

azriel suddenly felt that tug on his heart, the same one that connected him to you. that explained the attraction, the longing, the desire that he felt for you. you were the other half to his broken, fractured heart. the tears stinging in his eyes clouded his vision but he still moved his hand to wipe your own tears off your face.

“you’re my mate,” he whispered to the world. but more importantly, to you.

it suddenly occurs to him that you knew. you knew he was your mate. you had sensed it before he could and tried to ask him. but instead of returning your feelings, azriel had shut you out. you can’t bring yourself to do anything other than repeat his name to yourself.

“azriel,” you say softly before you let yourself fall onto his chest. he wraps his arm around you, his newfound mate, the missing piece of him.

he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, his scared hands still trembling to touch you. it had been his touch that sparked the bond to snap for you. “i’m sorry,” azriel muttered. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

you shake your head at his words, letting him know he shouldn’t apologize for anything. you hug azriel back, breathing in the feeling of having your mate with you.

“you’re not…” he begins, “you’re not afraid of me?” the hesitancy in his voice, a vulnerability that he’s never shown before. azriel wondered about what you would think of him if you knew about his past, his story, the reasons behind the scars on his body and the memories he tried so desperately to forget.

had he really deserved your love? you were so bright and joyful, lighting up any room you walked into. azriel had believed that he would only dull your light, that he would hold you back. he had never intended to reject you, but he would still loathe himself for the time to come for doing so.

you cup his face with your hands before looking into his eyes, “you never scared me, azriel.”

[cripplerage]

I'd like to talk about this:

{Image ID: A cropped screenshot of an online form with a purple background. The question is "What is your gender identity (click all that apply)." The options are "Woman," "Man (disqualify)," "Feminine-Identifying," "Non-Binary," "Transgender," "Unsure," "Prefer not to say," and "Other." The other option has a text box, and they all have unchecked check boxes. End ID.}

This is an application form for an advisory/advocacy group for the intersectionality of woman/female experiences for disabled people. If you somehow figure out WHICH group this is, please do not contact them in any way. I would like to have the opportunity to calmly and politely give my feedback to them, and an accidental harassment campaign would not help. And of course, they're not really doing anything wrong, they're trying their best, etc. my intention with this screenshot is to use it as a learning example.

Here's the thing... They are clearly trying to be inclusive and acknowledging the gender spectrum, but they're acting as if it's a bar that they can just take one half and leave the other. But as a non-binary person who is also sort of a trans-man, who appears fully as a woman and is perceived as a woman by the general public and the healthcare system, this just doesn't seem to work.

For the form I only ticked non-binary, and I listed my pronouns as they/them, when I usually use he/they. And I don't think of this as lying because my gender is a bit fluid, but also I sort of think that it would be my right to lie in this situation because I deserve to participate in this discussion?

I think we as a society seem to forget that most trans men were raised as women, and do have women-aligning experiences. And most of us don't have male privilege, and the few that do have it immediately negated in situations like healthcare. Being transmasc never prevented me from experiencing ableism or medical mysoginy. And I don't know for certain but I imagine some intersex men, even if they're cis, deserve to be part of this conversation, too.

I think what I'm saying applies to more intersectionalities than just disability, but I don't think it's really my place to talk on that. And don't get me wrong, I do think that discussions about feminine intersectionality are important. Here's what it comes down to - I think we need to just let individuals decide for themselves if they are eligible for certain discussions. I don't know for certain what the best way to do this, but I suggest something like the following:

"This group is centred around the experience of intersectionality between femininity and disability. You may be eligible for this group if you are a cis woman, transgender, or intersex."

I'm open to suggestions or feedback on that.

Tl;dr: gender identity and gender experience are different. Someone's gender identity does not necessarily mean that they should be excluded from discussions regarding lived experience of another gender.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I saw you were taking requests so I decided to submit one!

Thinking of some Older!Eddie smut where him and the reader are neighbors in an apartment complex. The reader has a huge crush on Eddie but is too afraid to say anything. They have bumped into each other a couple times and have had a few casual conversations in the mailroom or at the park. He notices her trying to move furniture into her apartment on her own and offers to help. How can she ever repay him? 👀👀

This might be my favorite request yet!

Older!Eddie x fem!reader

cw: reader is 25 and Eddie is 40, MDNI 18+ smut, unprotected sex (please don’t do this)

You stood in the lobby of your building, staring down at the giant chair that had definitely seemed smaller online. You had ordered a something small to read in and what had been sent to you could easily sit two people instead of one. There was absolutely no way you were going to get it upstairs by yourself and also no way you were going to going to ask anyone for help. You just felt like you were a bother.

Knowing that you couldn’t leave it in the lobby, you took a deep breath and grabbed onto one of the arms and pulled it. Once it didn’t move, you pulled again and again until it started to slide. You were able to get it across the floor to the elevator, but it got caught on something, causing you to fall back just as the elevator door opened.

“God, are you okay?” A voice asked as whoever it belonged to rushed to your side.

“I’m fine, it’s just this stupid fucking-“ you cut yourself off as you realized that your neighbor that you had been crushing on had been right in front of you. His brown eyes bored into yours as he searched for any sign that you had been hurt.

Eddie offered you his hand and you took it, letting him help you to your feet. You quickly pulled your hand away and brushed yourself off, afraid to look him in the eye. He was just too pretty and off limits. He was fifteen years older than you and you were sure that he wasn’t interested in you in the slightest.

You both had said hello to each other in the mailroom and at the park where the two of you liked to take walks, but him greeting you with a few words didn’t necessarily mean that he liked you. He was just trying to be nice, you were sure of it.

“Is this yours?” He asked, pointing at the chair and you just sighed, collapsing into it, causing Eddie to laugh. You were suddenly embarrassed of the thing, very much wanting it out of your sight.

“Yes,” you let out another sigh. “But it’s very heavy, so I guess I’m just going to have to leave it here and get in trouble with the building.”

Eddie felt bad for you being in such a predicament, and despite his want to never get to know any of his neighbors, he felt the need to help you. He couldn’t let such a beautiful woman try to get a large couch up to her apartment by herself, could he?

If he was being honest, he always looked forward to seeing you whenever you had run into each other. You had always been sweet to him and it had been very obvious that you had a crush on him with the way that your cheeks blushed when he made eye contact and your open flirting. Eddie was no fool.

“I could help you get it upstairs if you want.” You sat up at his offer, vigorously shaking your head as you did so.

“Oh no,” you stood up from the chair. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You did want the help, but felt like he probably (definitely) had better things to do.

“You’re not asking.” He stepped towards you. “I’m offering.”

“It’s really heavy.” You showed him by trying and failing to lift the side of the chair, barely able to even lift it off the ground.

Eddie moved towards the chair and you moved out of the way as he picked it up in one swift motion. You headed for the elevator and pressed the button with the up arrow on it, waiting for it to open. The way he was standing gave you a perfect of his flexing bicep that you wanted to wrap tightly around you as he pressed a filthy kiss to your mouth.

You were embarrassed by how badly you wanted him, thinking about him at pretty much every waking moment. Some of your thoughts were innocent, like how he would definitely hold you in his arms as you both fell asleep. And some not so innocent, like the way you wanted him to fuck you so hard that you couldn’t walk afterwards.

You didn’t know why you were even thinking about him or why you were so attracted to him. But he was so hot with the way he always had his hair pulled up into a bun and the way he dressed with his muscle tanks and jeans that hugged his ass just right. You were so down bad that it was sad.

The elevator doors opened and Eddie stepped into it, holding the chair as if it was light as a feather. You got in after him and pressed the button that would take you to your floor and the doors closed.

“Are you sure it’s not heavy? I can help.” You reached for the chair but Eddie just backed away.

“Nope, you just stand there and look pretty, okay?” You turned away, feeling your cheeks burn at his compliment, not wanting him to see your face.

Before you knew it, the elevator doors opened on your floor and Eddie insisted that you go before him. You walked down the hall and he followed you, adjusting the chair in his arms so it was more comfortable. You got to your door and quickly unlocked it before moving aside, letting Eddie bring the chair in.

“Where do you want it?” He asked and you pointed to the corner by the window that led out to your fire escape.

“Right there.” Eddie moved quickly and set the chair down exactly where you wanted it before collapsing into it with a sigh. He leaned back into it and rested his hand behind his head as he closed his eyes. You chewed your bottom lip as you imagined yourself straddling his waist as his hand rode up your skirt, gripping your thighs as you pressed your lips to his neck, eliciting the most beautiful moans from him.

“This is nice,” he sighed and you felt yourself getting wet at the sound. He then rose from the chair and stuffed his hands into his pockets as he headed towards you. “Was that all you needed?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for your generosity.” Little did you know that Eddie was having the exact same thoughts, wondering what it would be like to place his lips on yours. And that’s when he got the idea.

“How about a kiss?” Your eyes widened at that, but he quickly turned his face to the side pointing at his cheek.

“Oh, right,” you nodded. Of course that was all he wanted. How stupid of you to think he would have wanted a kiss on the lips.

You leaned forward and pressed a lingering peck to his cheek and he closed his eyes, loving the way your warm lips felt against his skin. You pulled back after a few seconds then stepped away, putting your hands behind your back so you wouldn’t be able to pull him in for a real kiss.

“Have a good night, y/n. And may I just say, you have excellent taste in chairs.” He gave you a small waved and you opened the door for him.

“Thank you.” You gulped, wanting him to stay. He couldn’t leave now. You had a feeling he would have if you had just asked, but you the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth.

“You’re very welcome,” he winked then headed out into the hall and you watched him walk the few steps it took to get to his own apartment that was next door. He stepped inside and gave you another wink before closing his door gently.

You slowly walked back to your own place and shut the door before leaning against it. The hottest man you had ever seen had just been in your apartment and you hadn’t taken the chance to jump his bones like you were sure anyone else in the building would have. You had heard the whispers when he entered the mail room, all of the moms giggling about how attractive he was. And you had seen people turn their heads when he passed them at the park. The was a fine piece of ass and you were kicking yourself because you hadn’t hit that. If you had just-

Your words were cut off by a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone so you were unsure of who it could’ve been. You slowly stood up and took a peek through the peephole only to see Eddie on the other side. With your curiosity getting the best of you, you opened the door putting on a bright smile.

“Forgetting something?” You asked and Eddie stepped closer to you.

“Well, I was wondering if I could change my payment?” Change his payment? What the fuck could he have possibly wanted?

“Well, that depends on what you’re wanting.” You stepped forward so that you were toe to toe.

“Well, I was wanting a real kiss, if that’s okay?” That was so okay. More than okay, in fact. It was perfect.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and pulled him inside as he pressed his lips to yours. His nose dug into your cheek because of the pressure but you hardly minded.

His hands grabbed onto your waist and pulled you to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. He stepped forwards and you mimicked him, the two of you moving further into your apartment as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip. You let him lick into your mouth as you back him up to the chair, breaking the kiss only to push him into it.

Eddie collapsed into the chair and you took no time to straddle his waist, his hand resting on your waist as yours moved to his hair.

“Go ahead,” he nodded and you removed the hair tie from it, putting it onto your wrist before fixing his hair and making it look nice. Why, you weren’t sure since you were just going to mess it up again.

“You looked so pretty with your hair down,” you told him. “Your curls are so pretty. You’re pretty.” Eddie blushed at that and if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it. He considered himself to be an attractive guy, but hearing you call him pretty made his confidence skyrocket.

“If anyone’s pretty here, it’s you, hon.” Now it was your turned to blush, but you resisted the urge to turn away.

“Really?” You just couldn’t believe it. Maybe he wasn’t just being nice to you.

“Oh yeah. You’re beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And gorgeous.” A kiss to your other cheek. “And not to mention fucking hot.” His lips captured yours in another messy kiss as his hand slid up your skirt, his hand resting on the spot right above your ass. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” you replied, slotting your lips between his as you wound your hands into his hair, loving how soft it felt between yours fingers. Eddie’s hands slowly slipped into your underwear, giving you enough time to deny him if you didn’t want him to continue. He slowly pulled them down and you pulled away, causing him to stop everything.

“You really want to?” You asked, biting down on your bottom lip. You could have sworn that you were dreaming.

“I want to so bad, sugar.” The words came out more like a whine and your underwear got even more damp with hearing it.

“I guess it’s what I owe you for bringing this all the way up here.” You batted your lashes and Eddie felt his dick hardening at the thought of fucking you right there.

“You don’t owe me anything. I want you to want this, not because you think I deserve it.”

“I want it.” Eddie patted around his pockets, clearly looking for something and his eyes widened once he realized he didn’t have whatever it was.

“Fuck,” Eddie swore and your eyes snapped back up to his eyes.

“What?”

“I don’t have a condom.” That definitely wasn’t great, but you could work around it.

“Shit, me neither. But I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Me too.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Eddie pulled your underwear down as much as he could before you stood up and removed them completely letting them fall to the floor into a pile. You then removed your skirt as slow as possible, looking Eddie in the eye as you did so. He watched you, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes filling with lust.

You let the skirt pool at your feet then kicked it aside before removing your top and your bra. You let the strap fall from your fingers and clatter to the floor and stood there while Eddie rushed to undress himself.

He removed his shirt then unbuttoned his pants then pulled off his boxers before tossing them aside as well. Your eyes immediately fell onto his dick and you could t help but stare at how massive it was. Of course he was huge.

You climbed back into the chair and slowly settled yourself onto Eddie’s dick, you both letting out moans as he entered you. You rode his cock slowly, trying to get used to the feeling of it being bare inside your cunt. Once you got onto a rhythm, you moved faster, wanting it harder.

“Oh,” Eddie let out a moan as his hips bucked against yours, trying to get as far inside you as he could. “So good, baby. Love the way you look riding me.”

His words only encouraged you to move faster, the two of you moaning in unison at the sensation.

“And you look so good under me. You feel so good, Eds.” Your words came out like a whimper and that only made Eddie harder.

Eddie threw his head back, his eyes shutting tight as his hands found your ass, digging his fingers into the skin and you let out a gasp at feeling, but you didn’t hate it. You continued to ride him the fastest you could and you both let out moan after moan, not wanting the pleasure to end.

“Taking me so well, baby,” Eddie told you as his fingers dug further into your skin and you kind of wanted it to bruise so you could look in the mirror and remember that night.

“Well, it helps that you feel so good.” You each gave one last push and you normally would have been concerned at how loud you were, but with Eddie, you didn’t care. You were just lucky to have the chance to be with him like that.

You got off of Eddie and held out a hand to him to help him up from the chair that you were definitely going to wash thoroughly. You led him to the bathroom where you cleaned each other up before putting your clothes back on.

You couldn’t believe that you had just slept with your crush. Everything that you had thought about before falling asleep had come true and had been just as amazing as you could have hoped. It had all been so perfect that you were convinced that you were going to wake up in your bed any second.

You took Eddie by the hand and led him to the door before opening it. The two of you lingered in the doorway, neither of you wanting to be the one to say goodbye. Eddie pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, promising that it would be the last one, but they just kept coming.

“It’s late,” you told him through giggles.

“Sorry, honey. S’not my fault your lips are so kissable.” He pulled you in for another one.

“I have to work in the morning.” You tried to push him away, but his grip on you only tightened.

“Promise me you won’t be a stranger?” As if you’d ever let that happen.

“I promise,” you nodded, but he didn’t seem satisfied with that.

“Go out with me.” His words sounded so desperate and you thought you would have been stupid to say no.

“I think that can be arranged.” He finally let go of you but only after stealing one more kiss.

“Tomorrow night at seven?”

“It’s a date. Goodnight Eddie.” He finally let go of you but only after stealing one more kiss.

“Goodnight, neighbor.” He gave you yet another wink then turned on his heel. Once he was inside, you went back to your own apartment and let out a squeal as you raced to your closet to look for an outfit to wear on your date. You were beginning to think you should have thanked the delivery guy for dropping the chair off in the lobby instead of inside your apartment. After all, without him, you wouldn’t have even been going on a date with your hot neighbor. Maybe you’d write a note to thank him.