Hii kyrie!! Hope you are doing very well!!
So maybe this is a strange request and it's totally fine if you don't make it, so don't feel pressured love !
So I've been told thru all my life in various types of ways that I'm not pretty or pretty enough, so that has made me so self conscious and I'm just you know aware that I'm not pretty, so I would like to know how do you think steve would react to reader feeling that she is not pretty enough even when she is in a relationship with steve.
It can be smutty or not, what ever you decide is perfect to me love!!!
Ok, bye ily <3
hi my love <3 i'm sorry you feel like that i just know you are super pretty and our stevie would think so too 🥺 i went for smutty i hope that's okay!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.1k
warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v, heavy on praise and pet names <3
taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld
The mirror sat atop your vanity, specks of dust decorating the glass. The reflection staring back at you was one you’d pondered over a thousand or more times, fingers prodding and pulling at the skin of the face in the mirror. Smoothing over the freckles and blemishes, rubbing at the circles below the eyes.
The reflection was yours, your face, your eyes, your hair and your nose. Your features that you’d come to think about more often than not. When Steve found you sat in front of the mirror, in nothing but your bra and a pair of soft cotton shorts his brow furrowed.
He called out for you when he walked into your quiet home, “Baby?” bottom lip jutting out when he was answered with silence. He reached your bedroom with a quiet knock on the door as he called out your name. Steve entered your room timidly when he was met with your figure in front of the mirror.
“Baby?” He asked quietly, “Everything okay? You never answered me.”
Steve came to stand behind where you sat, hands gentle and warm on your shoulders as he watched your face in the mirror. Your expression blank, like your mind was busy with a hurricane of thoughts. The words that spilled out from your mouth hurt Steve like a knife to the chest.
“Steve, am I pretty?”
The boy stood there dumbfounded, mouth hanging agape with his brows pinched together. He leant in next to you, so his chin was on your shoulder, his face next to yours staring back through the mirror. Steve pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, his lips sweet and gentle on your skin.
“You’re the prettiest girl in the whole world, baby, you know that.” Steve watched you carefully in the mirror as your eyes raked over your body, your lips downturned into something sad, “What’s this all about?”
“I don’t think I’m pretty enough-” you sighed, lips pursed together as you tried to ignore the feeling of Steve being so close to you, “not pretty enough for you.”
“What?!” Steve protested, turning his head to face your profile, “that’s crazy, sweetheart. You know I think you’re beautiful, hm?” Another kiss pressed to your cheek, “So hot and sexy, my sweet girl,” his voice was lower this time, lips encasing the shell of your ear, “how ‘bout I show my girl just how pretty she is, huh?”
Your skin erupted in goosebumps, heat rising up your neck as Steve’s words went right to your core. His lips travelled lower, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he pressed sweet kisses on your neck.
“You got the most beautiful eyes, baby,” Steve started, his hands moving to hold your waist, “so dreamy and your nose? Shit, you got the cutest nose I’ve ever seen.”
His lips followed the curve of your neck to your shoulder, a hand dancing up over your stomach, ghosting over the material of your bra and to your face. Steve let his thumb swipe over your plump bottom lip.
“And baby that smile of yours,” he groaned lowly when you sucked his thumb between your lips, “makes me weak at the knees and I wish I could set your laugh as the sound on my alarm clock.”
You hummed a laugh at his cheesy compliment, Steve sporting a wide eyed grin in return. “See? You’re beautiful,” Steve whispered, tone low and rasp as his fingers found the material of your bra again, working their way round to the clasp.
The contraption dropped to the floor with one fell swoop, freeing your breasts from their confines. Your breath hitched in your throat as the cool air hit your skin, nipples erect and Steve’s for the taking. His large hands cupped your tits, gently squeezing the flesh as his thumbs rolled over your nipples.
You mewled quietly, a soft little whimper tumbling past your lips as Steve took his bottom lip between his teeth, lips coming to your ear once more, “And these pretty tits are so perfect, can’t get enough.”
Teeth nipping at your neck, hands still caressing your tits, Steve ushered you up from the chair, pressing your body into the vanity desk. He pressed himself into your back, the soft material of his shirt scratching at your body, the bulge beneath his jeans felt against your ass.
Steve kept one hand pressed to your chest, the other wandered down your front, a quick squeeze to your hip as he slid his fingers between your ass and his front. Pushing your shorts to the side, Steve ghosted his fingers over the lace covering where you wanted him most, the small wet patch beneath his fingers making him take a sharp intake of his breath.
“And this pretty little pussy of yours,” Steve cooed, fingertip teasing at your entrance, “she’s just the sweetest thing, isn’t she?”
“Steve,” you whined, rolling your head back to rest on Steve’s shoulder. The feeling of his finger barely pushing into your hole driving you insane, your body white hot all over and he was just getting started.
“Come on, pretty girl,” Steve encouraged, “tell me what you want, use your words.”
Your eyes fluttered closed at the dirty words he spoke, feeling your arousal poole at your core. You pressed your ass out into Steve’s hands, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his finger. Steve chuckled cruelly at your actions, teasing as he removed his finger from your cunt.
“Steve, please,” you begged, “anything, baby, please just touch me.” You pleading never went a miss with Steve, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips as he dropped to his knees.
Fingers curling around the waistband of your shorts and panties, the material soon dropped to the floor around your feet. Steve peppered kisses up the backs of your thighs, his large hands grabbing the flesh of your ass, pulling and squeezing. Steve pulled you apart, revealing your pussy to him.
Wet and ready for whatever Steve was going to give you, he groaned at the sight of you. Slick covering your pussy, smeared across your plush thighs. He pressed a single kiss to your hole, lips pouting as he gripped your ass.
You moaned loudly at the gesture, eyes fluttering closed as Steve began to move his lips and tongue in tandem. You felt him groan from behind you, the vibrations rumbling through your pussy, your thighs clenching involuntarily. The sounds that filled the room were pornographic, dirty, filthy. Slurping and sucking, licking and kissing.
If there’s one thing that Steve Harrington knew how to do, it was eat pussy like his life depended on it.
Steve grabbed harshly at your ass, his palm coming down against your cheek, a yelp echoing off your bedroom walls. Steve groaned into your pussy at the noise, his cock straining beneath his jeans at the pretty little gasps and whimpers that were serving as music to his ears.
“You taste so sweet, baby.” Steve cooed, “so fuckin’ good.”
You fell to the desk below you, unable to keep yourself up any longer. The pleasure coursed through you like lightning, a sharp flick of Steve’s tongue over your clit sent you over the edge.
“Uh uh, baby,” Steve uttered, “keep those pretty eyes on that mirror.” One hand left your ass, the distinct sound of the metal of Steve’s belt clinking, the leather slapping against itself, “Want you to see how pretty you look when you cum.”
You wailed as Steve never stopped the movements of his tongue, your slick totally covering his mouth and chin you were sure. Eyes shooting open, gaze fixated on yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were hazy, your lips red and bitten. The sound of Steve’s denim being shoved down his thighs rang loud in your ears, the jostle of his wrist as he fisted his cock felt as he buried his face in your pussy.
The beginnings of your orgasm rocked your body, your cheeks heating up as your jaw went slack. The muscles in your stomach and thighs began to clench, your moans and whispers of Steve’s name turned into incoherent mumbles. A jumble of praise and ramblings of how good Steve was making you feel the only things you could muster.
“Stevie, ‘m gonna cum, fuck–” you cried, fingernails digging into the wood of the vanity, “please, don’t stop, baby.”
“That’s my girl, come on, baby, let it go,” Steve groaned, palm slapping against your ass as he sucked and licked at your clit, “keep those eyes open, honey.”
The coil in your stomach snapped, your body hot and cold all over, your eyes wide and pupils dilated as you stared at yourself in the mirror, watching yourself cum with your boyfriend’s face buried inside your cunt really was a sight to behold.
Your body writhed against the table as Steve continued to lick at you all soft and slow, drawing out your orgasm until you were crying at the overstimulation. His own fist had since slowed, pumping his cock at a fragile pace, teasing himself like you often would.
When he finally removed his mouth from your pussy, you exhaled a sigh of relief, body slumping against the wooden desk. The quietness of your bliss all but lasted momentarily as you heard Steve groan from behind you.
Fingers still wrapped around his stiff cock, eyes glued to your sticky pussy as your juices mixed with Steve’s saliva dribbled down your thighs. You stuck your ass out for him to see, as if inviting him to slip inside you.
“Steve–”
“Baby, fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back as he spoke, “I gotta– shit, I gotta see your face when I cum, please?”
You gnawed on your bottom lip as you spun around, Steve still on his knees, gaze fixated on your lower half. The boy shot up in a flash, hands immediately cupping your cheeks, lips crashing against yours. The kiss was hungry, fervent, Steve having worked himself up into a frenzy.
He picked you up from where you stood, your legs wrapping around your waist, arms slung over his broad shoulders. Steve laid you down on the soft sheets, hands reaching to rid himself of his shirt, shuffling out of his jeans and boxers.
His larger frame towered over you, soft kisses peppered all over your flushed face as his forehead came to rest against yours, his gaze flickered down between your bodies as he pushed himself inside you, cock in hand.
Steve moaned loudly, all high pitched and pretty. A gruff ‘fuck’ trembled past his pink lips, giving himself a minute to billow in the feel of your warm pussy around his cock. The stretch of Steve’s cock was one you had grown to love, the initial sting a sinful pain you craved.
It wasn’t long before he was bottoming out, hips moving hard, cock stroking deep inside your walls, “Fuck, baby, ‘m not gonna last long, shit–”
“Oh, Steve,” you breathed, skin dewy and hot, Steve’s cock stroking your special spot just right. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his tailbone as he rolled his hips into yours over and over again, desperately chasing his own climax.
“My sweet girl,” the boy moaned, a throaty rasp, his hair wild, “you’re so pretty,” he babbled, “so fuckin’ gorgeous. My beautiful girl. So good f’me.”
Steve’s word vomit of praise was endearing, you were sure tears would be lining your lashes if he wasn’t fucking the breath out of your chest right now. He grappled your hands away from his shoulders, fingers interlocking as he held them at the side of your head, lips falling into place with yours as his hair began to fall out of place.
He was on the cusp, you knew that, could tell by the words he was moaning, the way he squeezed your hands so tight, how he kissed you as if to stop himself from wailing out your name.
He fucked his cock into you harder, deeper. You moaned his name into his mouth as he kissed you, a sweet gasp only spurring him on. You felt him twitch inside you, thighs clenching as he whined, “Oh, baby, oh fuck—,” gaze fixated on your fucked out features, “gonna cum, shit—“
As soon as Steve felt your walls clench around his length he was a goner. Hot cum spurting from his tip, pairing your walls as he groaned out your name. Curses fell from his tongue like a chant as his orgasm washed over him.
Chest heaving and breath heavy, Steve whined as he rode out his high. Eyes squeezed shut tightly as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the soft skin of your neck.
He hissed and grunted as soon as he pulled himself away from you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Steve pulled you into his chest, thick ringlets of hair matted with sweat as he lay spent.
Steve let his lips rest on your temple, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he spoke,
“Prettiest girl in the world, baby, y’hear me?”
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☆// the night market
info! cayde-6 / fluff, ambiguous relationship + gender neutral reader
cw! no CWs
notes! first draft on this account - kinda nerve-wracking! also my first time ever writing for cayde -- just a lot of firsts going on. i hope that this is a good way to get this account started. feel free to drop any requests into my inbox!
(listen i'm also writing this like cayde never died just for my own peace of mind. i just can't really do that right now just pretend along with me. lil vaguely christmas-themed piece)
it's chilly. the cold bites right through the thinnest layers of your clothes - the ends of your sleeves that cover your knuckles. no armor tonight. it's nice, if you're being honest.
the atmosphere is bright, more festive than you're used to. old string lights hang overhead, swaying as people move about the tents, looking through wares for sale. people chatter away at stalls, haggling without too much seriousness. music plays from somewhere -- wherever it's coming from, you can't see it, but it sounds nice and calm and live. you can't remember the song exactly, but it's familiar. it puts you at ease in the crowd. you just stand in the middle of the hustle and bustle, watching. it's nice to disappear into the crowd every once in a while, to be an observer rather than a protector for just a moment. a reminder of what you're fighting for.
you hum to yourself, your ghost hovering over your shoulder as you watch the motion of the crowd. then you yelp, feeling a purposeful yet awkward nudge against your shoulder. you turn to confront whoever it is with one hand over your chest, the other flying to the carefully concealed holster at your hip, to be met with none other than cayde-6. you force your eyes shut for a second and focus on the exhale that follows, hand falling away from your holster. "you scared the light out of us, cayde!" your ghost cries, shell spinning anxiously.
when you open your eyes, your expression is fairly deadpan, unamused at the slight smile he cracks. "since when are you so jumpy?" he teases, holding a mug in each hand. "i got us some, uh, hot chocolates. isn't that what you do at these things?"
he hands you one awkwardly, twisting his wrist so that you would be able to grab it from the handle. the mugs are metal, well-worn and dented, but just the right temperature to warm your reddening fingertips. "since i'm not wearing any gear," you mutter, holding your mug close to your chest. "and you might wanna be a little more careful with scaring me. i could've shot you." you really did scare us, you know.
cayde scoffs, stuffing one of his hands in his pocket. "seriously? you're packing heat at this little christmas fair?"
silently, you lean into him with your hip leading, just enough for him to feel the pressure of your holster against his leg.
his eyebrows raise in realization. "oh. i stand corrected."
you shake your head, hiding a grin by sipping at your drink. you nod in approval, humming your thanks.
then it's quiet for a beat. your ghost dissipates back to wherever they go when they're not hovering over your shoulder (you try not to think about it too much; the rationalizations can get kind of freaky), and you and cayde are left people watching in the center of the hustle and bustle.
"what are you doing here anyways?" you ask over the edge of your cup, opting to watch a group of friends flit from stall to stall instead of looking over at him. "i thought you weren't coming."
"well, i wouldn't be a very good, uhm..." it's a strong start, but when he turns to look at you as he speaks it's like the wheels in his head start to struggle a little bit. he clears his throat, trying to get himself back on track. "i wouldn't be a very good friend if i let you come by yourself, would i?"
you laugh softly, and the sound is bright, cutting through the buzzing noise of the crowd. "so he does have honor," you tease, finally smiling at him. for a second it doesn't feel quite so cold outside. then your gaze aims straight again and the rest of the atmosphere comes back into focus. "no, you wouldn't be. i would have taken it very personally."
"that so?" cayde looks down at you, amused. his voice rumbles deep and hearty in his chest, like the crackling of a campfire. it feels safe, has you wondering why you thought to bring your sidearm in the first place. but then you remember that he's looking at you, waiting for your response.
"oh, absolutely," you chuckle, and it comes out just a touch too fast, but if he notices he doesn't say anything. just laughs along with you.
the air settles again, both of you sighing into your mugs. "would you like to walk a little bit?" he asks, pulling his free hand out of his pocket and gesturing down the aisle.
you smile, fully this time with teeth and all, and take a step forward. "sure, i'd love to."
so you go, weaving through people and looking through trinkets and laughing at little lighthearted incidents occurring on the periphery of the market, humming along to the music, one of you always close behind the other. and the part of you that thought this would probably be awkward falls silent.
"you know what would go great with this hot chocolate?" you ask over your shoulder, and the brush of his cape against yours tells you that he's coming around the corner of the tent after you.
"what would?"
"some cookies," you say, smiling even though he can't see you. "on me, of course, since you bought the hot chocolate." you turn back into the aisle, deciding that the tent's wares no longer interest you.
cayde scoffs, sounding almost shocked. "listen, kid, you don't have to-"
you glare playfully over your shoulder, following your nose down the aisle to a vendor selling sweet treats. "if it makes you feel better, we can say that i'm only getting you one so that i don't feel bad about getting two for myself. deal?"
and cayde laughs again, breath coming out in wispy puffs. "okay, sure. deal."
the line goes fairly quickly and in no time you hold three chocolate chip cookies, carefully handing one off to the exo man. "thanks," he says awkwardly.
you shake your head. "no problem."
both of you munch on your cookies for a moment before you abruptly look up at him again. "we've never hung out outside of work before," you say as though you're just realizing it.
cayde straightens up at the though. "oh... i guess we haven't really, huh?"
you shake your head.
"guess that makes sense seeing as we're both... always working..." he says shoulders slumping. gosh, how boring.
"do you want to do something?" you ask. "like do something, not just hang out at the market?"
"i, uhm. sure. yeah," he stammers.
you nod to yourself, starting off into the crowd. he scrambles to follow after you.
soon enough he finds the both of you in a bustling field a tiny bit away from the market. it's much more calm out here than in the market even in spite of the number of people around.
"you do this often?" he asks uncertainly, watching over your shoulder as you sit hunched over on the ground, decorating a paper lamp.
"do what often?" you reply, not looking up from whatever it is that you're drawing.
cayde gestures vaguely, floundering for a moment. "this whole night market thing."
"oh." you look up from what you're drawing for a just a moment, staring at the sky. "not really. mostly just for the dawning."
cayde smiles. "so are you a dawning fanatic? do you do the outfits and the presents and the themed parties and all that?"
you wrinkle your nose, laughing lightly. "no, not really. i just like the market. don't have much to decorate with at home."
he nods. "fair enough."
then you turn to him, holding out your pencil. "you draw something on there too."
"oh, i'm not much of an artist."
you roll your eyes. "who cares? just put something on there, anything. it'll make things more fun."
cayde hums a disagreement but starts drawing anyways. once he's done he hands the pencil back to you. you hold the paper lantern up to the light, playfully analyzing it. "it's beautiful," you coo teasingly. he only bumps you with his shoulder in response.
"okay, so now what?" he asks, hands clasped together.
"now," you start, fluffing the lantern open, "we send it off."
cayde nods his head. "and how do we do that?"
you smile and pull a tea candle and a lighter out of your pocket. "with these. see you light it and you put it in the little holder in there, and then it floats. you wanna see?"
cayde smiles down at you and something about how bright the expression is makes you forget that you're out in a field, away from all of the light and holiday chaos of the night market. "sure," he says like it's simple. and you guess it is as you flight your lighter and light the little candle.
he watches as you place the candle in it's little structure. then he helps you lift it above your head, both of you giving it the tiniest boost as it goes on its journey in the sky. you sit in silence together as you watch it float off into space, into the smattering of stars across the sky.
"thanks for coming." you let yourself lean into the warmth of his side. he doesn't protest. it's comfortable there, in this moment, in the air trapped between the both of you. "i normally do this by myself, but it was nice to have company this year."
finally, he peels his eyes off of your little lantern in the sky to look down at you. "i had a great time. 'd love to do it again."
your expression melts into a cozy smile as your brain processes the words. i'd love to do it again sometime. you grin up at him. "deal."
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