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superblysubpar · 3 months

Text

Sincerely, Yours:

bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu

the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music

6.6k words

warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)

A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛

He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels.

“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished.

In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words.

“Want me to pause it?”

“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”

“I’d love one, thanks!”

Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all. He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.

Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too.

Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel.

He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again.

Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time.

Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together.

His best friend was really fucking pretty.

He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours.

Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.

“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.

Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb.

He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth.

“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”

They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing.

Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned.

“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”

He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.

You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.

Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”

He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing.

“No.”

Did you just say that out loud?!

Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward.

Looks like you did.

“Ste-”

“What? What do you mean no?”

Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees.

As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”

Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.

“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”

Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”

Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin.

A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”

The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.

“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”

It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him.

“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”

Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway.

“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”

He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head.

“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”

“No, please, I didn’t mean-”

His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour.

Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.

“Can you please-”

“I’ll grab my keys.”

He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger.

The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him.

You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him.

The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore.

When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned.

He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless.

Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands.

Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be.

Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”

“Just take me home, please?”

The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone.

So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?

He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment.

It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”

His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you.

“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started.

“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink.

“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”

The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence.

Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”

Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”

Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.

“And fries. Definitely.”

“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”

“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”

Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better.

“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”

He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue.

You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”

He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”

“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it.

Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”

“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it.

But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-

“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.”

He definitely said it out loud that time.

You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.

“Ste-”

“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”

“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier.

“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…”

Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked.

“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry.

“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”

“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”

You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”

Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-

“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”

He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had.

“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”

Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”

“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”

He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else.

But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead.

“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him.

And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.

“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”

To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more.

The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew.

Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips.

But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open.

“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”

Tried being the definitive word.

“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”

You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”

It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”

The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours.

It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch.

His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”

Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”

Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”

He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”

A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to.

Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing.

All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked.

Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt.

If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either.

And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.

In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.

You didn’t mind.

Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach.

He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”

“No,” you lied.

He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”

You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking.

“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”

Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…

You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington.

Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again.

“Honey, what are you doing?”

“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body.

Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”

“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?”

And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?

Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat.

His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”

“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused.

He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”

And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on.

His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick.

When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”

“Brian,” said without hesitation.

Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”

You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”

Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.

“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him.

“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”

It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his.

“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.

“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”

This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?

But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.

He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.

You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him.

Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.

The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more.

His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”

“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”

“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”

You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot.

“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence.

Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer.

Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of.

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath.

You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words.

“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later.

Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you.

Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork.

You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”

He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him.

He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager.

And that was before you whimpered, before you said:

“Steve, please.”

“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”

His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours.

Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it.

He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”

You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s.

Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”

There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further.

Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced. “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”

You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling.

He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.”

And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away.

#superbly subpars writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic

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lycankeyy · 2 years

Text

Istg it took me like 5 rereads to retain any knowledge about pokespe and it has been my special interest for well over half of my life

#💛#i also still regularly forget about entire rounds in RGB and Y despite rereading those at least one a year LMFAO

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landososcar · 17 days

Text

espresso ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x fem driver!reader

summary ; in which yn says fuck it and drops a song while soft launching her (possibly problematic) relationship

warnings ; flufffffff & like one mention of christian horner (🤮)

note ; i apologise for the one post in here where i basically just fan girl over ria but who wouldn’t. +this is pretty long and i got lazy towards the end and couldn’t be bothered making team announcement posts lol

twitter !

instagram !

liked by estebanocon, lewishamilton, and others

youruser my give a fucks are on vacation 😝 espresso is YOURS!!! tonight after i demolish these old men 🫶

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user1 oh she is HER

lilymhe WIFFEEEEE

youruser AHHHHH IMMA MARRY YOU

alexalbon …i’m right here??

lilymhe IRRELEVANT

user2 I NEED IT NOW

bestfriend MY GIRLLLL‼️‼️💓💓💓💓

youruser I LOVEEE YOUUUUU

user3 i say we wave the chequered flag early so we get espresso now

landonorris ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

bestfriend lmfao

youruser 🧡

user4 EXVHSE ME?????????

user5 i love how she just disses half the grid and then just calls it a day

maxfewtrell helllll yeah

user6 maybe she’s never on the podium because she focuses more or singing than racing

user7 or because she’s in a fucking ALPINE

user8 y’all were SILENT when lh44 released music but suddenly it’s a problem when y/n does it

maxverstappen im not that old

youruser yeah okay grandpa

imessages !

twitter !

instagram !

liked by landonorris, f1, and others

youruser i kissed @bestfriend in the club bathroom

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user1 IS THAT A MANNNN

youruser i sincerely apologise 😔

user2 guys do we think that’s mr espresso

bestfriend KISS ME AGAIN, FUCK *****

youruser omg don’t expose him😭

youruser but hell yeah come here gf😻😻😘

estebanocon my f1 teammate or my fav singer ?

youruser me when i’m both

user3 THE INITIAL NECKLACE ????? L?????

user4 omg y/n’s boyfie driving a mercedes ??? Y/N TO MERCEDES 2024‼️‼️‼️‼️

maxverstappen1 stream espresso

bestfriend yasss grandpa !!!

maxverstappen1 omg i try to do one thing nice and suddenly i’m catching strays

user5 IM WORKING LATTEEEEE CAUSE IM A SINGGERRRRR OH HE LOOKS SO CUTEEEEEE WRAPPED ROUND MY FINGEERRRRR

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landonorris can’t sleep

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user1 “SAY YOU CANT SLEEP BABY I KNOW THATS THAT ME ESPRESSO” LANDO NORRIS WHAT ARE YOU SAYING

user2 THE SOFT LAUNCH IN THE SECOND PIC TOO OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user3 oh hes definitely always streaming espresso

maxverstappen1 what kind of thirst trap post is this mate

landonorris for her eyes only😁

bestfriend but you posted on the main ?

youruser UHM

youruser 💓💓💓💕🧡💘🖤💖🩷💞💙💗🖤💗🩷💝🩷❤️💕💚🤎🩷💕💜💖🖤❣️🩷💕❤️💜🤍💚🩷🧡🩵💛🤍🧡❤️💕💛💚💕💘🩷💞❤️💜💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

landonorris what happened to the soft launch baby

youruser you’re too hot i need people to know your MINE😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😘😘😘💓💓

youruser do you think about me every night😁😁😝

user4 oh she’s gone insane

user5 THE EMOJIS IM PISSING MYSELF SOMEONE SEDATE HER

bestfriend girl get UP

bestfriend what have you done to my gf

landonorris MYYYYY girlfriend🥰🥰🥰🥰

bestfriend bite me bitch

bereal !

caption: my two fav f1 drivers (excluding estie ofc🫶)

instagram !

liked by landonorris, estebanocon, and others

youruser unfortunately, i was too hot for the car this week, we’ll get those old men next week 🫶

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user1 SHES FUCKING HILARIOUS

user2 maybe if she stopped making music and focused more on racing she wouldn’t have dnfed

landonorris the car had a issue with its breaks ? how was she gonna fix that. explain quick pls coz you’re an expert

user3 LANDO DEFENDING HER IMMA SOB

bestfriend babe you need a car that can handle hot sexy you are 😫😫 i don’t wake up at 3am on a monday morning to watch you nearly die 😝

youruser my sincerest apologies ma’am 🫡

bestfriend i love you tho🫶🫶

youruser if you really loved me you’d come to the race next week ??

youruser WAS I JUST AIRED

lilymhe we’ll ignore this week !! podium coming next week for my girl i can feel it

youruser 💓💓

user4 i can’t believe her and lando are dating, so unprofessional

landonorris GAHHHH I LOVE YOUUUUU

youruser STOP IT ILL CRY 💞💞💞 MY LOVE🥰

user5 surely her dating an opponent is bad for business

imessages !

twitter !

instagram !

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landonorris apparently is bad for business? sorry y/n/n’s pr team ig 🙏🤷‍♂️ but stream my girl’s new song‼️‼️

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youruser RIAAAAAAAA

user1 two tit pics in a row omg !?

youruser BABY IVE MISSED YOU COME SEE ME

landonorris 💓💓

youruser GIRL NO I WAS TALKING TO RIA SKRJSKJDJFKS

riabish STOP I LOVE YOU

landonorris wtf😭😭😭

user2 if ria has 0 fans, y/n is dead

youruser RIA PLS COME TO THE NEXT RACE I AM BEGGINGGGGGGGG

youruser make up some sort of reason and pretend quadrant need to come but then i’ll send you (and only you😉) an alpine pass 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

riabish my boss hasn’t planned a quadrant race visit for a couple more races babe😔

youruser JUST SENT YOU FLIGHT DETAILS ILL PICK YOU UP FROM THE AIRPORT WITH YOUR PADDOCK PASS

riabish MARRY ME

youruser FUCK YES AJDKSJAHHAHAH

landonorris guys i think i just lost my gf on a post i made dedicated to her

youruser yeah but you posted a pic of ria, so who was i actually paying attention to ??

youruser i love you so so sooooo much (im actually talking to you this time)

landonorris luv u 2 i guess

youruser nah wtf boutta unrelease this song

user3 what did we just witness

estebanocon you guys are insane

user4 omg bad for business is another banger

user5 when y/n can’t choose between f1 and singing so she just fucking EATS both

maxfewtrell when you ask y/n about her fav quadrant member and you expect her to say lando but you’re stupid and it’s ria without second thought

youruser you’re a close second place max🫶

landonorris wtf am i?? chopped liver?????

instagram stories !

landonorris & youruser added to their story

instagram !

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youruser alpine ❤️ all 4 years that i’ve spent in formula 1 have been spent at this team and i now call everyone at the headquarters, garages, and races, family. thank you to everyone who’s made an impact to my life in any kind of way no matter how big or small, i appreciate it more than you will ever know. @estebanocon, thank you for being the best teammate i could ever ever everrrr ask for, you have grown with me and taught me so so many things. we’ve shared more laughs than probably any other teammates and moving to different teams will definitely not stop that.

there’s still the rest of the year until the end of this era and i know we’ll make the most of it. i’ll always remember alpine as the team that brought me in and made me the woman that i am today. the end of this season will definitely be tough but if it wasn’t sad then it would mean there was nothing to miss.

let’s have an amazing rest of the year, i love alpine and will never forget the time ive spent here 💙🩷💙🩷

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user1 IM SOBBING

user2 omg she loves alpine so much this is devastating why would they not re-sign her😭😭😭😭😭

user3 they couldn’t afford to re-sign both her AND esteban, mercedes offered her A LOT more money

landonorris so so so proud of you my love 💓💓

youruser 🫶🧡🧡

f1 never forget the first alpine driver line up after renault… keep pushing y/n!!

user4 ohhh she’s gonna EAATTT at mercedes

estebanocon going to send a mor private text to you now but thank you for everything y/n/n 🩷💙 (you’re also my favourite f1 driver)

lewishamilton ❤️❤️

lilymhe 💓

user5 omg the y/n to merc rumours were true

user6 it’s not even been confirmed yet lmfao for all we know she could’ve just got sacked by alpine and no one wants to pick her up

bestfriend soooo proud of you my girl 💞💞💞💞

riabish prouder than words can explain 🫶

twitter !

instagram !

liked by landonorris, bestfriend, and others

youruser HE FUCKING DID IT !!:!;&/&”!/!;”929/ MY BOYFRIEND IS A RACE WINNER AND IM SOBBING OMG I LOVE HIM SO MUCH LOOK HOW HAPPY😁

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user1 GIRL F1 AND MERCEDES JUST ANNOUNCED YOUR MOVE AND YOURE POSTING THIS LMFAOOO

landonorris WE DID IT BABY AHHHSHDHHAKA

youruser YOU DID IT MY LOVEEDJJRKEKR💓💓💓🧡💓🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🥰🥰😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰😻😻😻😻😻

user2 she’s so funny for just ignoring her merc move announcement 😭😭 she dgaf

user3 boyfie WON she doesn’t give a shit about mercedes rn, give her like 24 hours

bestfriend does this mean i can’t call him no wins anymore

riabish right!?? like, the one gp we go to and he has to go and steal our focus from our girl coz we gotta care about him at least a little bit

bestfriend exactly.. he’s so selfish like wtf

landonorris im so very very sorry

user4 FINALLYYYYYY

maxfewtrell 🧡🧡

youruser guys yes i know they announced my mercedes move! why are y’all acting like you didn’t know about it last week tho😭 i saw the tweets

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annoyingblondebracket · 6 months

Text

Round 1 | Poll 14

~ Note: This poll is being done out of a genuine love and affection for these types of characters! Please keep that in mind when adding commentary.

Propaganda under the cut!

Reigen:

~ Surprisingly, Reigen doesn't have any propaganda i feel I can fit here 😭

Roald:

~ The main character used to be friends with him, but they fought before university and since they returned Roald has been "like silver-plated tin when you wished for, expected, *needed* silver", wandering around flirting with dairymaids "almost as big and blond as he was", stealing the main character's pen, and just generally making a nuisance of himself in every way that occurs to him

~ Roald is, in the narration of the main character Jemis, described as dark blond of hair (along with choice adjectives like strong, broad, and muscular), he is loud and friendly (very rude, Jemis is busy thinking everyone hates him), he flirts with the milkmaids and dresses in outrageously loud old-fashioned style (neither of which makes Jemis jealous nor envious, obviously), he catches Jemis falling off a ladder and then blows right through his careful attempts at distance by calling him by last name and ‘sir’, his thighs are SO muscular (Jemis will never achieve that kind of stature and it vexes him), Roald appears to not hold a grudge against Jemis for that big fight they had before parting ways for university, and now he goes about town drinking and gambling and all around pretending to be an air-head which Jemis KNOWS isn’t the case so WHAT GIVES, they’re childhood friends, why is he pretending to be both unintelligent and careless, and Roald CLEARLY has secrets but he won’t tell Jemis about them (so rude), instead he goes about not answering direct questions and making meandering conversation with Jemis in public (VEXING), pretending to be uninterested in the local mysteries despite always appearing front and centre, casually eating the eyes out of the mysterious fish pie Jemis found in the town square, STEALING his BEST PEN, getting inexplicably snappy when Jemis’ university roommate comes to visit, and going around calling Jemis a “good boy” out loud on several occasions. No one has ever suffered anyone’s company, as well as the inexplicably terrible lack of same person’s company, like Jemis has. Truly what is Roald making of his life. Not even referring to him by a silly nickname can calm Jemis’ annoyed (and nothing else) heart.

~ According to our EXTREMELY reliable narrator, Jemis Greenwing, Roald Ragnor is very simply the most annoying man in town. He’s a good-natured idiot jock, but he and Jemis used to be friends and Jemis knows he could be so much more than that if he just tried. Like, at all. But does he try? No. Instead, he spends all his time gambling (annoying) and drinking (annoying) and bothering Jemis Specifically (annoying) and bothering people who aren’t Jemis (annoying) and flirting with the local girls (annoying) and talking about hunting (annoying) and – well. You get the idea. He comes across as an airheaded twit of a noble, except for the part where he keeps showing up in places he isn’t supposed to be and being blatantly cagey about what he’s doing there. Both of these aspects are, independently, annoying. He’s also obnoxiously large and obnoxiously loud and obnoxiously blond and has obnoxiously muscular thighs. I swear to god I am not exaggerating this. Did I mention Jemis thinks he’s obnoxious?

#💛 | polls #💛 | round one #annoying blonde bracket #reigen arataka #mob psycho 100 #roald ragnor #greenwing and dart series

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tadpolesonalgae · 4 months

Text

They get turned on when you’re angry — headcanons

a/n: thank you 🩰 for this thought, and thank you anon for requesting it 🧡💛 (this is ever so slightly unserious, please accept my apologies)

warnings: starts out suggestive, derails into smut :)

Rhysand:

“You can’t keep insisting you’re the most handsome High Lord at the High Lord meetings, Rhys!”

You’ve got him sat on the edge of your bed as you scold him for his behaviour, Rhys waiting patiently as he watches you trying to ply the clips from your hair, your own patience wearing thin as frustration builds at their refusal to budge

“I mean really Rhys, I understand you’re no longer acting out a cruel persona, but a little tact, no? Just some discretion? Not cracking jokes left right and centre!”

You hiss as one of the clips snags on a strand of hair, cursing both him and the clip out under your breath

“Darling, will you please just allow me to—”

“Don’t you dare move, Rhysand.”

Colour warms the tan skin of his cheeks, eyes appreciatively running down the trail of your spine, heat gathering at the spankable curve of your hind. The tone you’d used…

“I know you think you’re charismatic and charming, but your arrogance is getting out of hand,” you continue, oblivious to the dark dip in his thoughts, “I suppose it’s inevitable when you have no one to keep you in check, but—”

“No one to keep me in check?”

You whirl on him, hair at last free and unbound, whipping over your shoulder as you turn to him

He’s undone the top most buttons of his shirt, leaned back on the bed, long legs parted—not at all ashamed of the reaction he’s having to the sharp, clipped tone you’d been using on him

“Rhysand!” You hiss, “I’m trying to…”

But he’s not hiding anything, arousal heating the glimmering bond that lies between you, skin tingling with awareness as warmth pools in your belly

“What was it you said again? That I have no one to keep me in check?” He muses, hand shifting over the muscle of his thigh to the obvious hardness between his legs. “No one to remind me of my place?”

“Rhysand,” you warn, “we have a dinner tonight, do not…” but you trail off when he palms himself through the fitted fabric of his trousers, a low groan coming from the back of his throat.

You pry your tongue from the roof of your mouth, delicately licking over dried lips, an action he marks eagerly. “I suppose you could serve being taught a lesson to two…”

Cassian:

“Cass, hurry up! We’re going to be late! Again!”

Really, you would have thought as a General he would have excellent time management skills and would never struggle with being late. And usually, that’s true. But something about going out to dinner to see his family just sends all of that training out the window

“Cassian?” You question, leaning over the banister to call up to your mate’s room. “Cassian, are you nearly ready?”

A series of knocks are landed to your front door, and you blanch, wondering if it’s another pair thinking of walking with you to the River House. But when you open it, you’re greeted with a proudly grinning Cassian, wings tucked in tight against the chill breeze

He must have flown out the window and round to the front again.

“Cassian!” You snap, “I was stressing! Why can’t you just please be on time and save me the anxiety?”

He opens his mouth, pride gleaming in his eyes at what he no doubt thinks is a clever trick, but the amusement has already seeped from your bones.

“For goodness sake,” you mutter, “you haven’t even—” You push up onto your tiptoes, leaning flush against him for support as you set straight a curled lock that was blown the wrong way, flopping to the wrong side of his head

You huff impatiently, settling back onto the flats of you feet, lightly smacking your hand over his chest as you reassess him. “Right. Good. Let’s go.”

“Sweetheart, don’t worry,” he tries, realising too late you’re genuinely bothered, agitation zinging down the bond. “They won’t even—”

“Cassian, I am not in the mood at the moment,” you snap sharply. “How many times have I told you. We need to be ready to leave half an hour before hand. You’re a General for crying out loud, put your knowledge to good use.”

You’ve never snapped like that before at him. He knows you get a little tightly wound when it comes to time management, but never anything like this. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten your gears turning like that. But your arms have crossed over your chest, drawing his attention to the dip in the neckline, a little further than usual. The strict set of your brows, and the disapproving cut of your mouth…

He zones back in when you click your fingers in his face, “are you even listening to me? For Mother’s sake Cassian, will you at least pay attention when I’m talking to you?”

“I’m paying attention,” he manages, caught off guard by the arousal that’s stirring in his stomach at the terseness of your question. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. Now hurry up and let’s—”

“Don’t cut me off like that,” he breathes lowly, pupils dilated as he stares down at you. The rise and fall of your chest as you glare impatiently…holding your ground…

“Cassian!” You inhale sharply as his large palm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his heat, nosing at your neckline, his scent wrapping around you, and— “Cassian…” you whisper, back curving with arousal

“Where’d that attitude go?” He asks breathlessly. “Bring it back for me. Won’t you do that, sweetheart?”

“Cass…we’re going to be late…” you manage to get out, knocked off your feet by the abrupt display of hunger

“We won’t,” he murmurs, pressing hot kisses to your throat as he works his way down. “Besides, what were those thirty minutes originally put in place for?”

You flush at the reminder—at how frequently things like this would happen so you would both agree to prepare in advance in the case of certain appetites arising

“Though if you want to keep using that tone on me…” his hips roll against yours, pressing the hard outline of his cock into your tummy, groaning at how it feels. “I don’t think I’d mind…”

Azriel:

“Azriel.” You hiss, gripping his hand by the wrist, tight. “Don’t even think about it.”

The shadows scuttle away from beneath your skirts, while the others peer up at the painting Helion’s currently showing off.

“You can’t just put your hands on me whenever you feel mildly compromised,” you whisper sharply, hoping the others won’t notice how you’re lagging behind.

“He just invited you to his bed,” Azriel growls lowly, pupils contracted as he stares razors into the High Lord of Day’s turned back. “And you hardly mustered up a refusal.”

“I was being polite. And of course the offer wasn’t serious,” you hiss back. “Besides, he’s invited you to bed plenty of times, and you never see me getting all territorial about it.”

“I wish you would,” he breathes, voice roughening as he flicks his wrist out of your grasp in favour of gripping your hip lightly, pulling you a little closer. “At least then he’d get the idea.”

“He’s doing this because you’re making it so apparent we’re recently mated,” you snap, “obviously he’s going to enjoy at last being able to get a rise out of you.”

“I need him to know that you’re mine.”

Heat flutters between your legs, suddenly feeling breathless. Your tongue flicks out over dry lips, and that familiar warmth zips down the bond, still so new and sensitive to every change, keyed to one another.

“You keep that sort of nonsense in the bedroom, Azriel,” you manage to hiss to him. “I do not belong to you. I am your mate.”

You can feel even on your side how overpowering, how dominating those instincts are, made worse by the unwelcome and incessant advances from another male. Can feel how he’s straining under the urge to claim you in a very obvious way.

“You belong to me, as I belong to you,” he growls lowly, darkness thickening at his back as those great wings flare menacingly.

“If you belong to me then I command you to be quiet and behave,” you hiss, the crackling tension between you having you snap, frustration simmering beneath your skin as you’re forced to keep your hands off each other until this bothersome tour comes to an end.

It seems to be the last straw for Azriel, however.

He releases a snarl that sounds mixed with a groan, starving lust barreling down the bond as he’s no longer able to keep his side entirely concealed, large palm shackling your wrist as he drags you away from the others, too hungry to wait

The command had been his breaking point, arousal burning through his blood at the sharpness you’d used

He hopes you’ll use it on him again, even once the initial frenzy has at last faded…

Eris:

“Either make me cum, or I’ll find someone else who will,” you hiss, nails scraping over his scalp, gripping the silky locks in your fist

“I wouldn’t recommend that, fawn,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing his body tight to yours, so you’re trapped between him and the wall as his thigh is pushed flush with your heat. “Besides, you’re already dripping all over me. You think you’ll be able to find anyone else who’ll give you the intensity of one I can?”

“I don’t care at this point,” you counter. “Either give it to me or I’ll have to use something else.”

The impatience catches him off guard. You’re usually so sweet and docile—he wonders where the spark has come from. It seems rather fun to tamper with

“Like your fingers? Your pillow?” He asks, voice deepening as he presses his hips to yours, grinding into the softness of your tummy as you try to rub over his thigh, to get some kind of pleasure. “I’d love to see you try,” he whispers breathlessly

“Fuck you,” you hiss, heat fluttering between your legs, mind turning dizzy with hunger as your arms wrap tight over his broad shoulders, leg weaving round his to try and get him closer—

“Quit it,” you snap, flame blazing in your eyes as your lip curls when he pulls his thigh back, leaving you without stimulation. “You’re being a fucking pain,” you hiss, tugging on his hair

His eyes flutter, hips bucking against you with hunger as he dips down, attacking your neck with kisses and nips, arousal having him firmly within its grasp at that demand

You moan at the sensations, back arching up into him as you feel the pronounced outline of him against you, twitching as he grinds against you

“Fuck, Eris…” you pant, so near the verge of pleasure.

“Get on the bed,” you whisper, hands shakily pushing him away, so he’s stood to his full height, looming over you

When he doesn’t move, you snarl, too impatient to wait for his games. “I said get on the bed.”

The intensity of his arousal hits you then, practically knocking you clean off your feet, both of you seemingly taken aback at just how heavily affected he is

“You like this?” You breathe, pulse spiking as you peer up into his eyes, irises almost fully eclipsed by hunger

He doesn’t need to answer as your hand slips between the two of you, cupping him, feeling just how hard he is, how hungry he is… You curse lowly

“Oh you’re going to pay for every damn teasing thing you’ve ever done to me,” you whisper over his mouth, pushing for him to walk back until his legs come into contact with the bed

“And you’re going to pay tenfold.”

Lucien:

“I just don’t get it, Lu,” you sigh frustratedly, pacing back and forth as he watches you from the plush armchair. “I’ve tried so many different things, she just seems to have it out for me.”

“Are you sure you’re not overthinking this?” He suggests wryly. “We both know you have a habit of assuming the worst when it comes to how other people perceive you.”

“I’m not overthinking this one,” you snap. “She blatantly cut me off and turned her back on me during tea the other day. I don’t know what it is other than she just dislikes me.”

“And wouldn’t it simply be the end of the world if one female didn’t absolutely adore you,” he drawls, stretching out in his seat, long legs crossing at the ankle

“Don’t take that tone with me,” you say sharply, spinning around to face him, glaring

Lucien stiffens under the fire in your gaze, the anger simmering away as you stare him down, surprised by how hot his skin feels beneath that look

“I know for a fact I haven’t done anything wrong this time—and I’m certain of that,” you huff, beginning to pace back and forth, allowing him a moment to grapple with the reaction searing through his body

“Why is she trying to bring me down? I don’t understand it. I’ve never done anything, said anything that could harm her standing in some way, so why is she trying to bring me down?”

He listens to the harsh puff of breath, the sharp sighs coming from your lips, the clean cut of your steps as you spin at the end of a pace—pulse increasing as he slips a long finger beneath his collar

“We females are already at a disadvantage,” you go on, brow tightening now with anger, “can’t she understand that? We should stick together to help one another, not step on each other to further ourselves. It’s so backward! Why are you fighting against me when the problem is with the males in charge? Do you see what I mean? Lu? Lu—”

A hot flush warms your cheeks, thoughts instantly fading from your mind, replaced by the view before you

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, attempting to readjust the tightness of the already close-fitting riding trousers he wears. “Continue,” he manages thickly, “I’m listening.”

But you’re done with the conversation already. Done the second you looked at him, the outline of his arousal for you so clear and prominent

“I’m glad you are, but I’m certainly not,” you murmur, already walking over to him, putting yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you pull your skirts up, feeling that delicious press between your legs

“I think I’m in need of a distraction anyway.”

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

#rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #eris x reader #lucien x reader #acotar #drabble

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

hi, love! just wanna say first of all that i love your writing and your account. keep up the good work!

second of all, i was wondering if i could put in a sort of specific request? i'm currently on my period and the bloating is making me feel really bad about my body ☹️ so i was hoping maybe you could write a fic where Steve comforts Reader when she's going through something like that?

feel free to disregard this if it's too heavy of a topic, i know it can be triggering to talk about things like this for some people.

wishing you all the best! 🫶🏻

- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛

Thanks so much babe!

cw: period cramps, insecurities arounds stomach/bloating

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 861 words

You think your favorite place has to be lying between Steve’s legs, with one of his hands clasped in yours and the other on your boob. If you focus really hard, you can hear his heart beating underneath your ear. You’re watching some mindless sitcom, trying to distract yourself from this blessedly mild round of cramps and silently debating whether having chocolate ice cream is worth getting up and going to the store to get it. But if Steve keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand like this, you might melt right into the couch and then the decision would be made for you.

It happens so gradually you almost don’t even notice. Steve knows to be gentle with you when you’re sensitive like this, his hand massaging the fat of your boob kindly before grazing lower to rub at the skin just beneath it. Then it goes lower still, and you tense when he dips under the hem of your shirt and takes a handful of your stomach in his grasp.

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice that you’ve stopped breathing, kneading at the supple chub of your middle absentmindedly, but you lower your hand to his, bringing it back up into comfortable territory. Then he looks at you, a questioning glance out of the corner of his eye. You pretend not to see. His hand drifts slowly, tentatively, back towards your stomach.

“Don’t,” you say softly, taking it again before it can get there. It’s not a reprimand so much as a gentle request, but still, Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“What’s the deal?” he asks, echoing your mild tone. “I thought stomach rubs were supposed to help with cramps.”

You soften. “That’s really sweet of you,” you tell him, “but I’m okay. I just don’t love the idea of my stomach being, like, perceived right now.”

“Perceived?” Steve angles his head to see you better, hand resting on the flat of your chest. “Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“It’s just bloated.” You sink a bit further between his legs, avoiding his stare. “It’s like, remember that time I came over without telling you and you didn’t want me to see your hair first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah, you mean the time you told me to stop being a priss and get over it? That time?”

You chuckle. “Right, well, I guess it’s kind of like that.”

Steve hums, playing with your fingers distractedly. “Okay,” he says after a minute, “I just want to preface this by saying that I really like you, and I think you’re smart and cool. Okay?”

He leans over until he can see your face, and you nod warily.

“You’re being stupid.”

A laugh startles out of you, but Steve doesn't give you a chance for rebuttal.

“You’re hot, babe.” He says it deadpan, like it’s a fact he had to memorize in school. “Like, smoking hot. The idea that you would give a shit, much less think I would give a shit, about your stomach being bloated is insane. And you trying to keep me from touching it is, like, practically criminal. Aren’t your tits bloated too?”

“Um,” you hesitate, somehow more self-conscious than you had been when this began, “yeah?”

“Right,” he says proudly. “And not to be a creep, but I’ve kind of been enjoying the shit out of those for the past couple of hours.”

“Steve.” You laugh awkwardly, squirming underneath his gaze. “That’s different, and you know it.”

He shrugs, looking you plain in the face. “Not to me. Listen, babe,” he drops his voice into a more sincere register, “I like you—your stomach, your tits, all of it—all of the time. And I think it’d make you feel better if you let me rub your stomach for you right now, so just let me, and if I start to find you any less hot, I promise to let you know.” The implication in his tone is clear: like, when pigs fly.

You look at him for a while. Steve can surprise you with his stubbornness sometimes. His eyelashes don’t so much as flicker under your perusal.

“Okay,” you sigh, getting comfortable again in his lap. “Fine, have at it.”

“Yes,” he hisses, his hand going back down and taking in a greedy handful of your swollen belly. You start to tense, nerves making your head go staticky, but gradually you’re able to relax. Steve with his hands on you is no foreign thing. He starts to push down tentatively, asking you to coach him on where you need it the most until he’s gently massaging over the ache. You let your eyes slip closed. You honestly hadn’t expected it to bring quite so much relief.

“Did Robin put you up to this?” you ask quietly.

Steve’s soft chuckle confirms your theory. “You’ve got her to thank for the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, too.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you can hear him laugh again at how blissed-out you must look. “Remind me to give her a hug the next time I see her.”

“You could just give it to me instead," he says. "I’ll pass it along.”

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midnight-berri · 4 months

Text

Another round of Clankie!🩵💛

Thought I would draw them one more time before I hyper fixate on something else lmao

I’ll be focusing a lot more on commissions so check out my prices if you haven’t already!

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milla-frenchy · 2 months

Text

Neat

2k0 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3

Summary: Javi broke up with you, convinced that you were too different. He regrets it and comes to your apartment one night, drunk. You "take advantage" of him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon (somnophilia), oral (f/m), face riding, spitting, very light rimming/anal play, piv, creampie. Javi’s pov

No age specified

a/n: thank you @iamasaddie for your writing challenge 2.0 😍

Genre : pwp / Prompt: “I still hate you, by the way” I LOVED IT 💛

thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta reading 💕

Mood board by @aurorawritestoescape 💕💕💕💕🫶

Masterlist

****************

“I hate you Javi”, were the last words he heard from you, before you slammed the door of his apartment several months ago.

Before that day, you were “his sunshine”, as he used to say. He called you ‘bebita’ (baby girl), and he had never called anyone like that before. “You’re too sweet for me”, he kept repeating. You used to think it was cute, until you understood what he meant.

Javi was a night owl, and you were not. He liked to lose himself in alcohol and smoked way too much. He told you he was dark and would eventually extinguish your flame. That he would break your heart. And that's exactly what he did.

Since then, you were no longer in his life. Steve kept telling him that he had spared you a shitty life, but he wasn't sure anymore.

So he thought about the past. The way you too fucked. How your lips rounded around his cock as he slid into your mouth and then your throat. How your hips or your waist accepted his fingers digging into the flesh as he thrust into you, kneeled behind you, jaw clenched. How you came on his tongue, his fingers or his cock, whispering his name.

Javi.

How your pussy used to take his length, and how he loved watching where your bodies joined, his cock all creamy with your weakness. How each time he held back because he didn’t want to come yet. Wanting to feel you more. Deeper, longer. So he used to make you look down there too, while he was focused on your face so he could keep fucking you a little longer.

He thought about it in the shower every morning, while he was jerking his length.

He thought about it every night, when he spurted his load on the sheets.

The girls of the brothel couldn't help him forget you. Their hips, their asses, their hands weren’t yours. Their cunts weren’t yours.

So he drank every night, more than before. To trick his brain. To forget that if you were suffering, it was because he had broken up with you.

One night, he couldn’t resist any longer. Alcohol made him forget his principles, gave him the liquid courage, so he knocked on your door in the middle of the night and when you opened, he staggered into your apartment.

“Javi, what the fuck?”

You raised your hands before dropping them in annoyance, and by the time you turned around, he had already collapsed on your couch.

“Unbelievable,” you mumbled and went back to bed.

When Javi woke up two hours later, it was still dark and he didn't remember why he was on a couch that wasn't his. And when his foggy mind realized that a part of him was warm, the headache hit him. The whiskey hadn’t worn off and he didn’t understand immediately where this heat came from. He straightened up slightly and looked down, his eyes now slightly accustomed to the darkness, and he couldn't believe that you were blowing him.

He called your name in a low voice but you didn’t stop, your fist slightly tight on his shaft, just above his balls. Your other hand was on his hip, your thumb rubbing his skin.

“What are you doing?” he added, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You pulled him out of your mouth, making him whimper. You licked his tip and slit, and replied “you came here to fuck me, right? What’s your problem then?”

He frowned and you took him back into your mouth. Your lips rounded around his crown before your head started bobbing up and down, your saliva running down his shaft. He rested his head on the couch, surrendering to you objectifying him like that, even if the courage that alcohol had given him the day before had already evaporated. He missed your mouth too much. The way you sucked his cock like it was the best you have ever had, like you worshiped it. Your fist, accompanying your mouth, was still around his shaft, jerking him lazily then firmly, alternating rhythms perfectly.

When you pulled him out of your mouth again, he couldn't help but moan at the loss of your warmth. He knew it made you smile. He just knew.

You ran your tongue all over his length, from his balls to his tip. Your tongue then traveled down, to his balls. His moans became grunts, when you made them roll under your tongue, lapping one then the other and licking off the light sweat under them.

“Fuck, Hermosa…” he managed to say.

So you focused there, on that thin skin beneath his balls, and you slid your finger up to his ring, rubbing the surface gently. You had taken his cock back into your mouth, and your lips and finger were starting to make him see stars. His headache was forgotten.

“Wait…you’re gonna make me come, wait”, he said almost painfully.

You sat up, sliding your tongue over his whole length, to make him moan one last time.

“Make me come,” you told him as you crawled up his body, until your pussy leveled with his face. He looked up at you, your glistening pussy, your hips, your breasts just inches from him. Your face lowered towards him. You brushed your clit against his nose and whined. Your hips moving back and forth, you were fucking yourself on his face, from your folds to your clit.

“Fuck”, you whimpered.

He let you be in charge. Let you use him however you wanted, while your scent and taste drove him crazy. He darted out his tongue and slid it between your folds just when you lingered for a few moments with your clit on his nose. Your wetness flowed down to him. He kept thinking about how much he missed it. Your taste, your pussy. You.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you against him, his impatience taking over. He pushed his tongue inside you, eager to taste you fully. He growled into your folds and you moaned louder. He rocked your hips to reach your clit, placing his lips around it and sucking on it. His tongue swirled over it, and he felt the way your body reacted, the way your thighs squeezed his temples. The way you undulated on top of him, speeding up then slowing down to play with your orgasm and it made him smile, just like before. He tightened his hands on your thighs when you came, to keep you against him a little more. He didn’t release you immediately when your spasms stopped. He pushed his tongue into your core one last time, to lap up all the wetness that hadn’t yet dripped down his chin.

He released his grip and you crawled back until you looked at each other, and he wondered if you were going to kiss him. You caressed his cheek, and said “open”. His gaze darkened and you grabbed his chin between your fingers. You let your saliva fall from your mouth to his and whispered “swallow, Javi”. And it was one of the most sensual things anyone had ever done to him in his life. “Again”, he asked and you did. Then you kissed him, tangling your tongue with his. Tasting your saliva in his mouth.

You grabbed his hands, pinning them above his head, and said “I’m gonna fuck myself on your cock. And you’re gonna let me do it.” He nodded. Of course he was much stronger than you and could have gotten away. But that didn't occur to him. When you grabbed his cock to impale yourself on it, he closed his eyes for two seconds, time to assimilate this sensation that was in his fantasies every day, that he finally was about to feel again. He opened his eyes when your pussy swallowed him entirely. You didn't move, keeping him buried in you for a few moments as if you too were getting used to that feeling again. He was struggling not to cum already. Your tight pussy was squeezing his cock so hard.

“Not yet, Javi”, you told him. He nodded and tried to think about something else, even though he didn't take his eyes off you. Anything that could make him forget the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock. You started to move, and god he loved it. Your cunt. Feeling her warmth around his cock. The way your folds were slowly getting used to his size. His hands were still trapped in yours, and he loved the view of your face above him, approaching then moving away from him at regular, sensual and slow rhythms.

“God, you’re such an asshole…but I love your cock.”

He knew that you didn’t mean it, that it was your bruised heart that was speaking, not you. He was afraid to answer, to confess he missed your cunt, that he missed you.

“Spit in my mouth”, he finally said. You smirked and did it again. You knew him. You knew why he asked you that.

“Shit Javi, I’m gonna come.” You were rubbing your clit against his lower stomach for several minutes and he knew your climax was approaching. You buried your face in his neck when you came for the second time, continuing to rub him gently, at a slower pace. He felt your pussy pulsing on his shaft and he clenched his fists.

You looked at him and said “you’re gonna fuck me now.”

“How do you want it?” he asked.

You took his hand and led him to your bedroom.

He followed you, staring at your ass. You got on all fours on your bed, without looking at him. “Spread it for me,” he said. He wanted to see you, all of you, in the dim light. You spread your buttocks, your cheek resting on the pillow, and remained offered to him until he knelt behind, caressing the roundness of your ass.

“You’re so beautiful, Hermosa”, he said, like a million times before.

He let his saliva fall, slide from your ring to your pussy, following the curves of your body. He leaned down and licked in one stroke from your folds to your ass then positioned his cock at your entrance. He wanted to feel you again, to sink into you like a beast. He thrust and bottomed out in one go, leaving you breathless.

But he didn't stop, he knew you didn't want him to, that you wanted to feel him roughly. He held onto your hips, fucking you hard and fast, teeth gritted. Yet it still wasn’t enough for him, and he grabbed your neck, pressing your cheek further into the pillow, thrusting ever faster and harder. He heard the headboard banging against the wall. Every time he thrust his cock in your core he told himself that he missed it. This feral fuck with you. And each thrust he became a little more angry with himself. He looked at your hips, your back, your neck. Your cheek. Your mouth. He heard your moans, louder and louder as he fucked you ever faster. He hesitated to slow down, to keep you a little longer. But it was too late. So he kept chasing his orgasm, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come”, he growled. A little desperately. And then he thrust one last time, staying deep inside you, showering your walls with his white spurts. He felt like it was never going to end. His hands holding your waist firmly, keeping you close to him. “Fuck”, he said. He pulled back, seeing his cock and balls covered by your wetness.

Then he lay down next to you and lit a cigarette. You took it from his fingers and took a drag. “You’re a pain in the ass with your cigarettes, Javi”, you said. He smiled.

When you opened the door for him to leave later, the sun was rising.

“I still hate you, by the way.”

“I know”, he said, before you closed the door behind him.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

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scarletwinterxx · 6 months

Text

sunshine and midnight rain - mark lee scenario

hello! so i'm back and yes i'm still on my mark lee brain rot era😅 it's like whenever i see this guy i completely forget about the rest of male population haha anyways I hope you like this one🤍

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Why are you so mad right now?"

"Because I asked you to do one thing and you didn't" Mark says, still avoiding your gaze.

This was not how you envisioned your morning, when you woke up Mark's side of the bed was already empty. When you went to look for him he was gone, no note, no text of his possible whereabouts. And when he got back, he was clearly and very obviously mad at you.

"I got home just fine" you say with your arms out. Mark still hasn't look at you and it's bugging you. You follow him out the living room. He's going round and round, trying to tidy the place just to avoid having a conversation with you.

"Mark, can you please look at me" you tell him, this made him stop and look over at you. A clear look of disappointment on his face, "I swear I was going to call you but the girls and I were talking and drinking. It slipped my mind, I already booked a cab home when I remembered"

"You went home, way past midnight alone and drunk. Do you know dangerous that is?"

"But I got home safe"

"And what if you didn't? What if something happened? God forbid I get upset about that, I was worried I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?"

You say nothing for a while, thinking of something to say back. You really are at fault here, you should be the one saying sorry right now.

"I'm sorry, I should've called" you tell him, now avoiding his eyes just as you feel the tears fill yours. Mark sighs, crossing the room until he's right in front of you. He hooks his finger under your chin, making you look at him.

"I'm mad because I care. I don't trust the world when it comes to you, I just want you to be safe always. I'm not going to stop you living your best life, but I want to know you're safe" he whispers, anger already disappearing.

He wipes the few tears that escaped, cradling your face between his hands.

"Are you still mad?" you mumble, this made Mark smile and shake his head.

"We're okay. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you"

"And I'm sorry for making you worry"

He kisses your forehead before pulling you in for a hug, "I don't like arguing with you, but I'd do it in every universe as long as we make up and end up like this. I love you, always. Okay?"

You hug him tighter, answering him without saying any words.

Just like that you're okay again.

Bless this universe for giving you such an understanding, loving, mature man to love. You'd be stupid to ever let him go which is why no matter what argument, the two of you always make sure to solve it together.

Mark never lets you go to sleep upset, he'll ask you what's wrong or if he's done anything to upset you. At first it was hard for you to admit your feelings that easily, you learned that you don't like being vulnerable, you don't like sharing your true feelings. You bottle it up. But ever since you started dating Mark, all of that changed.

He's there to listen, even when words aren't being spoken. He knows when to give you space, he knows when to chase after you and hold you tight. He knows you in a way you didn't want to know yourself, you used to be scared of these feeling but not anymore.

It's obvious who's the serious one and the jokester in you and Mark's relationship. The best thing about it is the fact that your boyfriend, no matter how serious he is, will always play along.

"Mark, you busy?" you ask, walking inside the office to see him on his computer

He looks over at you with a smile, "No, what's up?"

"I was wondering..." you say while walking towards him, he waits for you to continue. You got to where he was sitting, smiling cheekily at your boyfriend

He knows you're up to something, he grabs you by the waist sitting you squarely on his lap.

"Do you know how to whistle?"

"Do I know how to whistle?" he asks back,

"Yea like you know, like this" you pout, but before you can whistle Mark closes the gap between the two of you. Kissing you gently, he grabs the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Suddenly you forgot what you were doing in the first place.

After a few minutes of exchanging kisses, you broke apart. Looking dazed and in love, "Hey! I was suppose to do that! Did you know I was going to do that?" you asked

"Maybe" he mumbles, looking at you with pure adoration

"I'll pretend I didn't know" he adds, making you roll your eyes.

"You just want to make out"

"You're not wrong there, now come here I need your kisses"

The first time it happened, Mark thought it really was just coincidence.

You just started to decorate around the house, the tree was halfway done and a few other decorations scattered here and there. He was just walking to the kitchen doorway when suddenly you stop him

"What?" your boyfriend blinks back at you confused, instead of answering him you just point up making Mark look at where you're pointing. There hanging by the doorway was a mistletoe.

"When did you put that there?" he asks with a smile, finding the tradition cute. Even cuter when you're looking at him with the biggest smile, ready to receive your kiss

"I just put it up today, now where's my kiss" you say, pursing your lips at him making Mark chuckle. He grabs you by the waist, leaning down to kiss you. It was short but sweet, enough to leave you smiling like an idiot.

A few months ago, the two of you finally decided to move in together. It's been years since you got together, and most times you spend your nights together whether his place or yours. At some point you realized that it would make more sense to just move in together, so you did.

"Love, did you do laundry last time?" you asked him, walking inside your shared bedroom to see him resting on the bed

"I did"

"Oh thanks, love the fabric softener you used. Now all my clothes smells like you" you smile at him, jumping on the bed to cuddle him. Immediately he hugs you close.

"Then will you stop stealing of my clothes now?" he asks

"Negative, I like your hoodies better"

He chuckles at your answer, "Knew it"

"What were you doing?"

"Just checking my phone, I wanted to order this pan for making omelet. Should we get one?"

You love how his sentence now say "we" or "our" instead of his and yours. Of course you still respect each other's boundaries and individuality, but on things like deciding what to paint your home or what furniture to buy or groceries to stock up on it's always the two of you.

"Should we? If we're using it then why not, I love eggs for breakfast" you tell him, looking at his phone screen to check

"I know, that's why I'm getting it. Okay, I'll order it now then" you watch him as he do so.

"This is fun" you mumble

"Hm?"

"This, buying things for our place. I like it" you smile

"Me too"

"Do you want to marry me?"

Your question took him by surprise. Not because he didn't want to marry you, it's just when he thinks of that big question he's the one doing the asking and not the other way around.

"Mark? Sorry forget I said anything" you mumble, moving to rest your head on the pillow instead

"Remember when we first started dating or way before that?" he asks you

"Huh?"

"I was shy, I wasn't as confident as the other guys. People think I'm aloof and too serious. You never thought of me that way, you entered in my life like you were meant to be there all along and maybe you are. Scratch that, I know you are. You're meant to be in my life. When I knew I was falling in love with you I didn't know how to say it without scaring you away, so I did it slowly. I did it in a way that won't overwhelm you. Because to you it doesn't have to be a loud confession or a grand gesture. i loved you they way i knew you would understand. i loved you the way i know how. i just loved you. I know you, your mind is a wonder. You doubt, you question and you worry your pretty mind to no ends. I didn’t want to disrupt that"

By now you're face to face again, he's speaking so softly like he's afraid you'll float away of he's too loud.

"You said I was your peace, and back then that was more than enough for me. By some miracle, you fell in love with me too. And now we're here. So to answer your question, yes I want to marry you. One day I want to get down on one knee and ask you that question, I'm still working on being the man worthy to ask that" he continues, and you soak each and every word he speaks like he's already saying his vows.

Because you know, you know he is a man of words. If Mark says it, then it's true. He will never say such things to deceive you.

"Do you have any more questions for me, pretty girl?" he whispers, waiting for you to speak

You shake your head, scooting until you're on his side again. Tucking yourself as close to him as you can.

He tilts your head so you're looking at him, leaning down to kiss you on your nose, your cheeks and last your lips.

"I'll love you over and over again, just like when we met"

#fic #nct #story #tag #nct dream #nct 127 #nct mark lee #nct scenario #nct oneshot #nct au #nct fluff #mark lee imagine #mark lee au #mark lee boyfriend #mark lee oneshot #mark lee fluff

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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year

Note

Could you do the reader being insecure after giving birth (it’s been a few months) and Aemond reassures her before they have sex

thank you for the request, this is such a sweet idea 💛

definitely know Aemond would be the patient and tender type. He won’t rush you but he’ll notice that you haven’t been yourself around him like you used to, and that concerns him. When he gets the truth out of you, he’s hurt but he wants to make sure you know that he doesn’t think any less of you.

hope this is okay x

Divine Beauty

PAIRING: Dad!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,519.

WARNINGS: mentions of childbirth, pregnancy + side effects, body insecurity, body shaming, swearing, fluff.

Childbirth was proof of miracles, an honourable right for most women, and one that you could proudly say you accomplished. It was not easy, to say the least. The labour was long, the pain unbearable and yet all the torment vanquished when you heard the first cries of your newborn daughter, cradling her tiny self in your arms provided a soothing warmth like no other.

And yet, nothing could neither amount to the sentimental sight of your beloved husband meeting and holding his newborn daughter. How tiny and nestled she looked, asleep in his strong arms. Your intuition convinced you, that your little one knew her father's touch instantly, and was comforted of how well protected she would be by his side. An understatement, Aemond was obsessed with her, refusing to let anyone else besides yourself and his mother, Queen Alicent, to hold the child.

From the exact moment he knew of your pregnancy, you could recall it as though it only happened yesterday, he was eagerly committed to the idea of fatherhood. If he was nervous, he showed no ill signs nor flaws, he was determined to be a great father, unlike his own, having only known neglect. Nonetheless, Aemond took measures to ensure your pregnancy was smooth and healthy, regardless of the symptoms, he wanted to minimise the risks as much as he possibly could. He saw to it, that you had your own reliable maester at hand, if necessary, he ensured that you were well rested, and that your maids attended to your every needs, at times he often would attend them himself. He especially grew a love to bathing you himself, watching overtime how your belly swelled with his child, and being so gentle with your changing body. And during this crucial time, you knew it was inevitable that your body would change, motherhood was an honour and you would do it again, however, it did not stop the self-loathing.

Terrible thoughts ruptured your mind, as you took long-hard stares at your bare reflection in the mirror. Examining every inch and crevice of your naked body, certain parts of your lower abdomen and back, now covered in faint pink stripes, the prominent dimples embedded in the skin of your thighs. Where your belly once protruded where the babe had grown, now deflated yet sagged just over your waist line. Now that you were lactating, your breasts had enlarged and felt grossly swollen, you'd never felt so 'big'. You felt ashamed that three months had passed and yet you remained this way.

During your pregnancy, Aemond ensured that you maintained a well-rounded appetite. The maester often reminded you both that you were with child, and it was quite normal to eat a larger quantity than what you were used to prior, since your cravings and appetite were upturned. Aemond was certain for you to remain well-nourished, for the maester often alarmed Aemond with discussions of risks of illnesses and deficits if the mother were to expose herself to malnourishment, for both you and the babe. Aemond wouldn't bear the thought, if he could prevent it, he would see to it himself.

Nonetheless, you felt that his good intentions and harmless actions came back for a nasty bite.

You had been avoiding Aemond's touch and longing stares, refusing to get undressed or naked in his presence, out of "modesty." He found it amusing, how you would shriek away from him, vexing him that you had only just given birth to his babe, let alone have another one anytime soon. He had acknowledged that you were still sensitive and in the process of healing from the gruelling birth. He did not wish to force himself onto you until you were capable of taking him again. The maester recommended at least a month, for you to regain your strength, before trying to conceive. You found yourself, sneaking in baths when he was out training or running errands for the day, and often were in bed before he'd return. He did not think much of it until now. He noticed how little you ate, and how you would layer your clothes even on sweltering, hot summer's day. And the whole ordeal of you not allowing him to touch your body, started to concern him.

It seemed enough was enough, for the one-eyed Prince, for he had returned much earlier than anticipated, as he cancelled his training practice that evening, only to 'ambush' you in the confines of your shared chambers.

"You've been avoiding me, ābrazȳrys [wife]," He exclaimed in a stern tone. He'd just managed to catch you perfectly, moments before you were to undress for a bath the maids had just prepared for you.

"Aemond-"

"Do not toy with me Y/N. I see the way my touch makes you feel, like I frighten you now... Do I?" You could sense the tinge of guilt in his soft voice. He takes slow steps towards you, only to stop himself hesitantly, maintaining a small distance, as though not to scare you away.

You couldn't help but sigh, you'd been so caught up in your own scrambled thoughts that you hadn't realised the effect it was having on Aemond. A half-hearted smile appearing on your face, as you closed the distance with your husband, reaching for his rough hand as you held it tightly in yours.

"Of course not, Aemond. You could never frighten me away. I love you so very much, it-it's just-"

The words struggling to leave your lips, as Aemond watched you carefully, his eye lingering over your mouth as he desperately awaited for your response. He gently squeezes your hand, as encouragement before you shamefully pull away from him, releasing his grip on you.

"I-I'm not the same as I was before, Aemond. I need you to know this. I don't think I can ever be, I mean my body. It's-It's...

"Horrendous."

As you left his side, to seat yourself down over the edge of the bed, you noticed the sting in Aemond's face, as he winced when you said the word. Horrendous. Instinctively, your hands touching your cheeks cautiously as you felt flustered and ashamed, hot tears treacle down before hastily wiping them away. You couldn't even find the courage to look Aemond in the eye, for his reaction would be to unbearable once the realisation hits him of how awful you look now.

Although, your husband wasted no second more, kneeling down below you, as he gently pulls your hands away from your face, his thumb stroking the tear trails remnant behind.

"Y/N, issa jorrāelagon [my love]," He softly whispers, the hurt in his voice evidence, as he looks up at you worryingly.

"Look at me-" He urged you, his tone now deep and commanding, his hand lightly nudging your face forward, as your eyes finally meet.

"You can never think of me to be so vile. I would never nor could I ever think of you in such an ill manner. You have given me the greatest gift a man could ask for. Do you think of me so little?"

His thumb had been stroking your cheeks dry, the seriousness in his face disappearing, as he glimpses a small, relieved smile on your face.

"I-I just hate the way I look now, and I would hate to bring shame to you with how others might think of me-"

A defeated sigh, escapes Aemond's lips, as his long fingers begin to comb through your hair. One hand leaving your face, to hold your shaky grip.

"I need you to listen when I tell you this. I do not give a fuck about anyone else may even dare to think. Only you and the little angel you have given me, that's all that matters. I refuse to let you think I could ever belittle you like that, you are my wife... Issa vys [my world]."

Almost on cue, your little daughter begins to cry in her crib, and just as your maternal instinct had kicked in to race to her side, Aemond denies you the chance.

"Y/N, I need you to understand me on this."

You give Aemond a slow, reassuring nod, squeezing his hands once more, as he plants a soft, moist kiss on your forehead. Your daughter's cries growing louder in the background, Aemond urges you to continue with your bath, as he attends to the unsettled newborn babe in her little crib.

Ever so carefully lifting her up in his arms, the moment she's comfortably nestled in, the cries begin to subside to small, little coos.

"Looks like she just needed her father's magic touch," You chuckle, as you begin to undress yourself slowly. Aemond kept his focus on you, as he made himself comfortable in a chair he pulled for himself, positioning it by the bathtub.

His eyes lingered over your body, and yet not a sight of disgust on his face. Each layer you removed, you felt your confidence grow.

"Hmm-" He lowly growls, an intense lust prominent in his eye.

"Issa gevie ābrazȳrys [My beautiful wife], divine beauty."

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfic requests #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagine requests #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

We Got Love:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve picks you up from the bar after your night out with Robin and he realizes he's overwhelmingly in love. | masterlist | Title/fic inspiration song always at the bottom - steve's music | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is - please respect this

WC Range: 5-10k

Warnings: reader consumes alcohol with descriptions of being tipsy / fluffy gooey hopelessly in love with each other kissing and flirting

A/N: A night out with @loveshotzz in Chicago had us thinking about Steve picking us up and bringing us to McDonald's and then a sweet anon sent a thought about Steve helping our tipsy selves and thus this fic was born. I hope you love it!💛

Steve was in too deep. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard or this quickly. Sure, he’s known for giving his heart away too easily, but he knew this was different. He knew you were different. He was going to take it slow this time - he had a whole plan.

He’s never been a good planner.

You’re sweet and soft, but you’re not afraid to bite back. You’ve got an energy about you, and sometimes he feels a little like you’re the sun. He can’t help but be drawn to you, like you’ve got a gravitational pull just for him, but if he gets too close too fast he’s gonna get burned like he always does.

But Jesus Christ, you’re not making it easy for him. You’re so sweet and perfect already, but you have to be gorgeous too? Cause you’re always pretty, but tonight…wow. And your ass in those jeans. His hands form fists at his sides, planting his heels into the floor so he doesn’t just start making out with you in front of Robin. He’s going a little insane - like he feels like he needs to keep his hands on you at all times or he’ll literally stop breathing, he’ll die if he doesn’t get to kiss you and -

He’s so fucked.

Hair curled and bouncing across your shoulders as Robin and you dance and headbang to the early 2000s playlist she insisted would pump you up for your girls night out. His bathroom counter is littered with lipsticks and various tubes of things you hold up to him in the store for his opinion on. He just nods and asks ‘Do you like it?’ before you drop it into the red cart with a smile and leave a kiss on his cheek.

A laugh that has the ability to actually crawl into his chest and burrow inside of his heart leaves you as Robin gives you shit for being high maintenance. He hides a smile from his spot leaning in the doorway as you insist that the tequila shot is going to be better with the orange, “Trust me, Robs. When have I steered you wrong?”

Robin starts to list several times you’ve done just that and your face scrunches as you stick your tongue out at her. Steve watches you both lick salt from your wrists and as you make eye contact with him he clears his throat and looks down, cheeks flushing pink at the thought of your tongue like he’s thirteen again.

Yup, totally fucked.

The clink of your glasses on the counter draws his eyes up once more, your face squished in amusing pain as you suck on the orange slice, eyes fluttering open and removing it with a wide smile directed at him over Robin’s shoulder. Body wiggling and hands clapping together as the alcohol enters your body and another laugh leaves it as Robin begrudgingly admits to liking the orange.

A pink stain left on the rim of the glass and one on his cheek after you skip over to him, arms wrapping around his neck. Steve’s hands find their favorite spot on your hips, fingers slipping seamlessly into the belt loops and trying not to think about how your hips and ass are gonna look dancing out at the bar without him. How you naturally sway easily to the beat, and smile around the skinny neon straw between your teeth as someone tells a story. How in between turns at an arcade game or a round of pool you use the stick or someone’s open fist to sing along to the songs playing because your walls come down a little from just a few drinks.

You lean back to peer at him with a smile that makes his heart stutter, sure he’ll need to seek actual medical attention to get it restarted as you tap your nose to his chin. God, you’re so fucking pretty.

“You gonna be okay all by yourself tonight handsome?”

Handsome.

He can’t help but sigh a little when you call him that. Can’t help the way his hand moves to push a piece of your hair behind your ear like he’s a leading man in a rom com you’ve made him watch.

He wants to tell you the truth. That no, as a matter of fact, he will not be okay alone and he needs you to stay. And it freaks him out a little bit that he wants you to stay forever and it’s not even for sex. He wants to debate about the best candy to have with popcorn, for you to shove your cold hands under his shirt and press your nose into his neck. To banter about what to watch only for you to fall asleep five minutes into it. Words on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t want you to leave ever. Because you’re going to go out tonight and go back to your place and he feels crazy because he wants you to just move in and that’s not in the plan. That’s not taking it slow at all, Harrington.

Raising your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response, his hands now push your hair from your shoulders gently. Swallowing harshly as his fingertips graze over the straps of your black tank top hiding under a jacket, trailing up your neck and back down relishing a little in the goosebumps that rise in their wake. A non committal hum leaves his pursed lips before he sighs, “You know, I really don't know. I think you should stay, just to be safe.”

It’s not the words that cause the feeling of a box of bouncy balls being dropped in your stomach, but the way Steve says them with that look. Tone and eyes warm like honey dripping over every inch of you, sealing your body in a sweet and sticky heaviness. Convinced you’d melt into an actual pile of goo if he let go of you, ready to shout how you’re feeling from every open window at every tallest peak in the world. Tequila and citrus mingle with the words that dance on your tongue, making it all a little harder to keep inside. You’re far too tempted to tell Robin that there’s a change of plans and you’ll have to stay curled up next to your boyfriend for the rest of your life.

You don’t say those things though, but you pretend to play along with his game - to see how much of his heart he’s willing to give away before you give all of yours to him.

“Well, safety is my middle name…”

Steve’s smile widens, lopsided and rising on the right and you want to reach out and trace over his lips and memorize the smile you’re able to pull out of him - just for you. Body filling with heat at the thought as his hands squeeze at your shoulders.

Thumbs brushing across your neck as he takes the smallest step to fully close the distance between your bodies, “Right, so really, it’s your duty to-”

“Oh god, I need another shot!” Robin smacks her head against the counter several times, “Please, for my sake, would you just kiss and say goodbye so we can go already?”

Stepping onto your toes, your nose brushes Steve’s and he sighs as your lips hover over his, “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

A clink of Robin’s shot glass hitting the counter makes your lips twitch.

“Fun? Without you? Just misery with no company here.” Steve huffs and taps the tip of your shoes with his socked foot. Pouting his lips out dramatically in one last feeble attempt to get you to stay. You catch his bottom lip with yours, pressing a soft and over too quick kiss there.

Robin bangs her head on the counter again as his fingers slip into your hair, cradling the back of your head. His tongue pokes out to lick across his top lip, citrus and salt lingering on it.

Warm eyes dancing between yours as he whispers a plea, “One more?”

Desperate for a pillow to scream into, to kick your legs and giggle like the lovesick fool that you are, you just bite back a grin as he tilts your head further. Lips molding around yours, soft and lazy and making you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. Noses squished together, thumbs buzzing across your cheeks, Steve sighs into you and your foot practically pops like you’re in a black and white movie and the end credits song is going to start playing.

The tap of Robin’s foot in impatience and a loud clearing of her throat makes the smile you were biting back win as you pull away reluctantly. Unable to help yourself, one more quick peck to his top lip before you untangle your heart and hands from his.

Tugging Robin towards the door, you glance over your shoulder to find Steve with his hands running through his hair, eyes blinking open as you smile widely. A sing song lilt to your voice as you call back through the closing door, “Have fun with your misery!”

Robin’s voice echoes down the hallway, “You’re both disgusting!”

Your voice louder and exasperated, “You told me to kiss him goodbye!”

Steve’s forehead hits the now closed door as he groans, palms dragging over the wood before they form fists. He already misses you. He’s a chump. He’s in love. He’s pretty sure you’re the one.

So, so, so fucked.

He tries not to wallow, cause that would be pathetic.

He’s pathetic.

Alone in his apartment trying not to think of you, except you’re everywhere. He cleans up your pregame shenanigans, despite you insisting you’d do it earlier before leaving - he was happy to do it so you could have more time with Robin. There’s a blanket you bought for his couch, your favorite coffee mug fresh out of the dishwasher and hung on a hook. The scent of your perfume and body wash in his bathroom and a toothbrush next to his. Clothes returned to half of a drawer that was basically just entirely yours now.

Eventually, he’s tired of his own co-dependent self pitying and crawls into bed, curling into the pillow that now smells like you. Thoughts of you lull him into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning and desperate to reach out and feel your body clinging to his, legs tangled together and cheek pressed to his chest.

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact he woke up at almost 2am to his phone ringing loudly, your face filling the screen. A picture he’d recently caught of you, holding a giant burrito in your hands and staring lovingly at it like it was your child.

Just the sight of it makes his chest ache and he takes maybe a second longer to answer since he’s caught up in staring at it. Clearing his throat before he answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, you sound…I…” your voice wobbles and a barely audible sigh falls into the speaker, not expecting the heavy sound of his voice. Not prepared for the deep gruff from his chest and sleep coated word to make your thighs push together like they do.

He sits up straighter and flicks on his lamp, “Hey, everything okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” you hiccup and giggle and then continue, “Yes. You just sound so sexy, I’m - well he does!” You’re shouting to Robin who he hears grumbling in the background and his bottom lip pulls in, tugged between his teeth as he fights a smile.

“Called just to tell me that, huh?” Purposely whispering so his voice sounds a little raspier, practically able to see you melting on the other side of the phone.

“Fuck…no?” His smile breaks through at the sound of your sentence ending in a question before you keep going, “I…I called because….oh! Uber! There’s like no Uber’s around and well okay there was one but we’d have to share it with these guys and…”

Steve is already pulling on sweats and the black sweatshirt you were always stealing. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he slips on the first pair of shoes he can find. Locking the front door and spinning his keys on a finger as you continue on. Somehow your story turns from Uber to Robin having a rum and coke come out of her nose because of a joke you told and how you totally crushed her at ski-ball.

He could listen to you talk about nothing and everything, just enjoying the sound of your voice and the way you light up when you tell a story. It can’t be crazy to be so in love with you already. You have to feel this way too, right?

“Anyways, I’m talking a lot and Robin is tapping her wrist.” You laugh and a snort comes out and somehow he falls even harder. “Like she’s ever worn a watch and been on time in her life - oh really? Name one time! Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, Buckley!”

“Babe,” Steve interrupts, rubbing his jaw to fight the aching smile he’s had on his face for the past few minutes. It’s a new name still, sticky in his throat and makes his heart speed up a little at the risk of saying it every time, but he loves the way you react.

“Yeah?” A little breathless, he can hear you smile through the phone. Easily able to picture the piece of hair twirling around your finger as you quietly tack on, “I like when you call me babe, Stevie.”

He breathes deeply through his nose, forehead pressing to the steering wheel. It feels like he’s drawing each word out of his brain painfully slowly because all that wants to come out is ‘I love you’ and he needs to say, “I’m in the car, where are you?”

“Oh! I’ll drop a pin! Thanks Steve I lo-” your voice cracks as it falls off before you quickly shout, “See you soon!” and then silence.

The entire drive to you is unbearably long and filled with Steve telling himself you weren’t about to say what he thinks you were.

Not that it would be a bad thing if you had said it, but he wants to be first. And he knows he feels that way about you, he just thought it was all too soon. Saying those three little words out loud has burned him before, but for some reason he knows it’s nothing like the pain he’ll feel if he says them to you and you don’t say them back.

As snowflakes hit his windshield and disappear just as quickly, he comes to a stop at a red light, the barcade just on the other side of the intersection and he smiles. You’re out on the sidewalk with Robin who appears like she’s trying not to look amused as you cabbage patch and disco to a song that must be playing. Stopping suddenly, he can tell you shout that it’s snowing and Robin must say something sarcastic back because you wave her off and start to spin a little. Head thrown back with a wide smile, tongue sticking out to catch a snowflake. He pulls up to the curb and hops out of the car.

Your head falls forward and his name leaves your lips behind the widening smile, the ‘E’ at the end trailing off and wrapping around his heart.

Steve’s hair is a mess, carmel and honey, lazily askew and you ache to card your fingers through it. Can you do that yet? Is jumping into his arms and running your hands through his hair after only a few hours away from each other too needy? Your buzzed brain and body are toeing the line of not really caring if it is. Especially with his glasses falling down the slope of his nose, hands in his sweatshirt pocket and a smile on his lips. Gray sweats sitting low on his hips and you bite back a smile at the loafers he probably quickly grabbed. Lit up in oranges and yellows from the streetlight and neon green of the bar sign flashing overhead. You could jump his bones right there against the car.

Falling into his arms with a low and content sigh, your fingers lock around his neck and toy with the ends of his hair in a sort of compromise with yourself. Nose pressing into his jaw, inhaling the familiar scent you’d missed in just a few short hours. Woodsy, maybe a little leather, and Steve and you could dare to call it home already. Swallowing the thought down, you whine a little and reveal a different thought, “Fuck, you are so handsome.”

Steve’s breath catches like you haven’t called him that before, taking in the way you blink and flutter your eyelashes, wet from snowflakes melting on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist to keep you up right - or at least that’s his excuse.

“I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” his voice still scratchy with sleep. He clears his throat, thumb rubbing against your skin just under the hem of your shirt. He’s lost in the feeling of you relaxing into his hold completely, like there isn’t any other place you’d rather be. Realizing that he can be a little needy with you, because you are with him.

The warm pads of his fingers on the exposed skin of your sides threaten to draw all of your attention. Forgetting what you said, what he said, or why you were even there. All information gone from your brain other than the fact that his lips are right there and looking far too kissable.

Pulling slightly away so you can stare into his eyes, you grin, touching your nose to his quickly, “Only you, Goose.”

Steve risks sliding his hands up your sides more, your shirt rising ever so slightly and his fingers buzzing over your skin. You love the way his lips quirk up at the nickname and he loves the shiver that runs through you and the way your breath hits his cheek sharply as he touches his forehead to yours and whispers, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Maverick.”

Rising onto the tips of your chucks, fingers finally pushing up and finding a home in Steve’s hair and you sigh. The neon lights could dim, a pop song could start playing and script scrawling across the screen announcing they lived happily ever after could all happen and you wouldn’t even be remotely surprised. It all feels a little like a dream, this thing with you and Steve, and you really hope you don’t ever wake up from it.

Mouth hovering over his, the mint of toothpaste on his breath begging to mix with the alcohol on yours, but leave it to your mutual best friend to ruin the moment yet again.

“Get a room!” Robin’s hands tap the side of the back car door, her plea echoing down the quickly emptying sidewalk.

Steve turns to glare at her, her body half out the window and a wide grin on her face. The two old friends in a staring contest and silent conversation when your stomach growls and a giggle slips out of your lips. Tugging on Steve’s shirt as you request, “Hey, can we get chicken nuggets?”

Robin snaps her fingers and points to you, “Yes! Now that’s more like it! Oh! And fries!”

“And a shake!” You jump up and down and Steve rolls his eyes at both of you, his hands still on your hips giving a light squeeze though.

He fights his amusement at your tipsy state and sighs dramatically, “Any more requests?”

“Nope!” spinning past him, he opens the car door and helps you in as Robin grumbles about her not receiving any help to get into her seat.

Steve begins to stand and your fingers tug him down by the collar, “Wait! I thought of one more thing I want.”

Snow turning to rain on the back of his neck as you lean in closer and he whispers, “Yeah? What’ll it be, honey?”

“A kiss,” smiling as your lips hover over his.

Steve’s cheeks turn pink and you’re so totally and completely in love with him it physically hurts when he whispers, “As you wish,” and presses his lips to yours.

It’s not a sweet and quick kiss like he intended, you’re a little greedy with it. Fingers clutching his sweatshirt, mouth parting over his and he can’t help but hold your cheeks and pull you in deeper.

“I’m seriously going to puke in your car Steven, and it’s not from the alcoholic beverages I’ve consumed tonight.”

Robin’s annoyed tone sends a giggle ripping through you, breaking the kiss and your hands release him and Steve takes a moment to take you in longer. Lips a little redder and glossier, eyes shimmering under fluttering eyelashes and his thumbs brush over your cheeks and he sighs, “You’re trouble, you know that?”

A grin and a kiss to his palm as your eyes look up at him innocently but your mouth forms a smirk tells him you definitely know.

He releases you reluctantly and closes the door carefully before jogging around the front of the car. Absolutely worth the flick to his ear he receives from Robin as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting his hand rest on your thigh.

The drive to McDonald’s is not long, just down a few blocks, but it feels like years to your tipsy state. Steve’s fingers brush your thigh back and forth, setting your skin on fire despite the layer of fabric between them. Aimlessly playing with his fingers, brushing over his wrist before a song on the radio catches your attention.

Steve watches as you light up, turning the dial and proceed to belt out almost every lyric wrong, but somehow manage to try to sing along to the guitar and the drums at the same time. You end up leaning across the console, fingers playing with his hair, his ear, his jaw and it takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his eyes on the road.

“Keep your hands to yourself until I’m out of the car please, I’m begging you,” Robin moans from her totally horizontal position in the backseat, eyes glaring at you.

Your frown is amusing, like a kid told they can’t have their cookie until after they eat their vegetables and you pout. Your fingers trail back to Steve’s on your thigh as he orders for you all at the drive thru. Perking up as you tug on his sleeve. “Stevie, don’t forget-”

“Oh, can I get extra sweet and sour please?”

Your smile is brighter than the neon light from the yellow arches illuminating the car and he knows he really is a goner after you do a little dance in the seat as the fries and nuggets hit your lips. Peeking up at him as you sip your shake, wiping your lips before asking, “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, you’re just really cute.”

You duck your head down and hide your smile in your last nugget as Robin sighs around her fries. She leans forward as Steve pulls up to the curb outside of her place and wraps her arms around you from behind and squeezes, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You start to turn, “What are you talking about, I’m staying the-”

Robin kisses your temple and starts to get out, “No you’re not. Have a good night lovebirds!” She calls loudly, saluting with fries in her hand before entering her apartment building.

Snow that’s turned to rain fully and hitting the roof of the car mingles with the music playing softly and you smile at him. Voice suddenly shy and quiet as you ask, “Your place?”

Steve can't get you home fast enough. You’re all cherries and chocolate ice cream and salt - stolen kisses at every stop sign. Giggling as he tells you that you gotta stop or he’s gonna get a ticket, placating you with more fries and asking about your night.

He’s driving himself a little crazy as he finally pulls to a stop in front of his place, fingers gathering yours and pulling you out of the car and up the front steps. Steve wants to let your hands wander, to keep that smile on your face, but he can see the food turned your tipsiness to sleep and it tugs on you, making your limbs heavier and your eyelids flutter more. He knows that as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re going to be out. The responsible thing to do is to get you to bed.

As the door closes, you lean in to kiss Steve like you’ve been wanting to all night. Desperate to disappear into each other without the impatient and annoyed eyes of Robin next to you any longer. Fingers tugging at the strings of his hoodie, pulling Steve’s body against yours. Your lips attach to his with no intent of ever letting them go.

“Missed you,” a breathless pant against his lips as you continue your assault on them, hands sliding into his hair and scratching at his scalp. Smiling around his lips as he groans at the feeling, his hands landing on either side of your head to catch himself.

Pulling away despite your whine of protest, he kisses your neck, nibbling a little before pressing more kisses into your skin. Your back arches and he sighs, this is definitely going to be harder than he anticipated. Words lost in your skin between kisses up and down your neck, “Missed you too.”

Steve can’t believe the words he’s about to say, especially when you’re looking at him like that. Kiss swollen lip tucked between your teeth, skin flushed - glitter and sweat kissed, curls of your hair falling loose and framing eyes that seem to be reading his thoughts and hungry with an equal amount of want.

Steve’s eyes warm, cinnamon and moss melting and climbing over you and you want to let him take every inch, want to tell him it’s all his. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he swallows harshly. He pulls at it, letting it pop out in a pout that he kisses slower and sweeter than before. Steve sighs into your lips as you part further for him, fingers trailing down to his jaw to hold him closer to you.

His forehead pressed to yours, his words are a breath against your lips, “Come on, time for bed, trouble.”

Is it the alcohol or is it Steve’s lips and words that make everything feel a little off kilter? He makes you dizzy, and giddy and he’s the one who’s trouble because you weren’t supposed to fall this hard for a boy like him. He can’t possibly want a girl like you.

As your eyes flutter open, he’s pulling at your hands, thumb brushing over your knuckles and leading you down the hallway. Not stopping at the bedroom, but continuing on to the bathroom. Steve hands you your toothbrush, kissing your temple with the promise of a change of clothes. Leaving you to stare at your reflection and wonder why Steve saying ‘time for bed’ and actually meaning to go to sleep has your stomach alive with more butterflies than before.

Steve cares about you. He’s not trying to sleep with you, he doesn’t care that you woke him up or made him get you McDonald’s at two in the morning. He let you leave and he cleaned up yours and Robin’s mess. Steve cares about you.

He returns, setting you on the lip of the tub as he rummages in the medicine cabinet.

“Aha! Found em,” he mumbles, pulling makeup remover wipes down and crouching in front of you.

Instead of handing you one, Steve gently wipes at your skin whispering something about how you really didn’t need all of this stuff, you know that right? Every word and every pass of his thumb with the cloth over your skin knocks a stone loose in your resolve. A paper thin wall between your heart and his now. It aches, your heart pounds loudly in your chest, filling your ears. Palms sweating, fingertips itching, breath catching like you’re about to take a jump off of a cliff.

Mouth dry as the words that yearn to come out sit ready on your tongue. Instead, your fingers catch his chin and you kiss him. Chaste and quick, eyebrows raised at him, “Why are you so sweet to me? What d’ya like me or something Steve?”

Steve tosses the wipe covered in makeup, kissing your wrist before tugging at the same hand and pulling you up to stand. Heart hammering, denting and breaking the armor he keeps around it. He could say it. He wants to say it.

But he doesn’t.

He lifts your arms and you giggle as he pulls your shirt from you and slips one of his own over your head instead. Kissing each of your cheeks as your jeans drop to the floor and he helps you step out of them. He sighs, catching your jaw like you had just caught his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Rising onto your toes, hands on each side of his face, you whisper through a smile, “How embarrassing. You like me? Do you like really like me like me or-”

Steve presses his lips to yours, arms wrapping around your waist and you sigh, hands falling to rest flat against his chest. His lips move over yours languidly. Lazy and sweet kissing that has you melting into his body. He knows he needs to stop kissing you, that you should go to bed. But he can’t stop, like your lips have a love potion in them and he’s under your spell.

Steve lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom and your kissing becomes a little sloppy, your smile forcing you to break apart for a breath. He lays you on the bed, arms on either side of your head as he hovers over you. You giggle into his lips as he pesters you with quick kisses over your face, “What’s,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “Funny?”

He nibbles on your bottom lip and pulls away and you’re eager to chase his lips, hands looping around his neck. Laughing into his smile and kiss as you sing, “You like me so much. You want to kiss me, you want to date me, you want to -”

Steve kisses your teasing away again, this time a little more passionately - like he’s trying to say all of the words he wants to with just a kiss. Stealing your breath from you, but then again he can’t really steal something you’re willing to give.

He pulls away, cradling your jaw and relishing in the dazed look on your face. He whispers into your lips as he kisses you again, “I’m gonna go get you some water, Gracie Lou.”

Smiling to himself down the hall as you finally find your voice and shout, “I knew you liked that movie!”

Steve can’t be gone for more than a minute, but when he returns, your chest rises and falls evenly, puffs of breath leaving your slightly parted lips and your face relaxed. Water to your side of the bed, he lifts the covers and slips you under them, flicking off the lamp and sliding in next to you.

Half asleep, you roll immediately. Leg slipping and tangling between his, hand on his stomach and cheek pressed to his chest. Steve lets his fingers glide over your spine, gently rubbing back and forth until his own eyes start to flutter closed. He’s going to tell you in the morning. He’ll make breakfast and coffee and he’ll finally tell you-

“I love you.”

It’s a breath against his skin, the words making goosebumps rise on it and his stomach flip. He feels you shift, your breathing heavy and your eyes still closed as far as he can tell.

“What?” he whispers to you and you don’t respond. Raising his head to peek at you, making sure you really are asleep, daring to ask again, “Y/N, baby,” he licks his lips, fingers sweating, “What did you just say?”

Nothing but a soft snore comes from you and Steve smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He pulls you closer, practically on top of him and kisses your temple.

You love him. Arms wrapping around you tightly, he decides he’ll never tell you that you said it because he was going to be first.

Steve Harrington is in love with you too.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @aftermidnightwriting

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