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#THANK YOU LIAM FOR THIS IDEA

strawberryspence · 1 year

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→ Annalyn's POV | Wayne's POV

Steve's dancing with Eddie, twirling his husband as he laughs, the daisy still hang behind his ear. They both still can't believe they didn't recognize each other.

God, he can't believe he actually married that boy from the park. Eddie's his friend, his lover, his person, his everything.

When they finally sit down to take a break, just watching as their family members dance and mingle with each other. El walks to them, bright beam on her smile, her pink dress making her glow like an angel.

She hugs each of them before turning to Steve, her eyes twinkling agains the fairy lights.

"I have something to say." El says, determined look on her face, "Annalyn asked me to tell you that she's proud of you and that she's very happy for the both of you."

Steve stares at her, blinking back tears as his jaw drops open.

"Annalyn? Like Annalyn, Steve's dead aunt?" Eddie asks, making El nod happily.

"She's also saying that she's glad she met Eddie while she was still alive." El continues.

Eddie coughs, choking out a wet laugh, "Yeah. Huh. That's right. I did meet you."

"Is she here right now?" Steve whispers, his grip on Eddie's hand tightening.

"Yes. She said you invited her and to come say hi to me." El says, laughing slightly at the message.

"I did. I did." Steve laughs, "Auntie, I love you. I hope wherever you are, you're happy and safe."

El smiles, "She's hugging you both right now." Steve starts crying, small hiccups escaping him, as Eddie pulls him closer to his chest to comfort him.

"She also says she loves you." El starts laughing, "I cannot say that."

"What? What is it?" Steve perks up.

"Annalyn said that you are a very determined little shi— poop. You did marry the daisy boy."

"Auntie." Steve whines. Eddie physically brightens up, his whole face turning in to a grin, "Ohhhh! Did baby Steve have a crush on baby Eddie?!"

El giggles, "Yes. Annalyn says that after Steve met Eddie, Steve told Annalyn that he will marry that boy."

Eddie melts beside him, giving his cheek a wet kiss, "Awwww sweetheart!"

"Auntie, your embarrassing me now. Go away." Steve says, trying to shoo non-existent air beside him.

"Annalyn said, she'll go mingle with the others. Maybe catch up with Wayne first and then come back to you later." El doesn't wait for them to answer, hopping away like she's holding someone's hand.

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest?" Steve turns to Eddie, as Eddie plucks one of the daisies out of his hair. "So... you wanted to marry me, huh?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "Eds, baby, you're the one that proposed."

Eddie smirks, "And you said yes."

"Of course, I wanted to marry you. I just got married to you today!"

Eddie smiles at him, dimple deep in his chin, "You having a great wedding day, baby?"

Steve turns, watches as his found family dance underneath the twinkling lights, just laughing and smiling, with no danger ahead of any of them. El's at the far end, looking like she's dancing with someone that the naked eyes can't see.

His family is complete.

Steve looks back to Eddie, leaning forward to kiss his husband's lips before saying,

"I am having the best day, my daisy boy."

(it's 3 am and i completely forgot to mention that this mini series is a belated birthday gift for @yournowheregirl! i love you, alice! im so glad you were born! 🤍)

#THANK YOU LIAM FOR THIS IDEA #THE END #STEVE PLANTS DAISIES IN THEIR BACKYAR #AND THEY NAME THEIR DAUGHTER DAISY #THEY ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER #steddie rants #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie fluff #steddie headcanons

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oh-surprise-its-me · 9 months

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Roy/Jamie idea: During a match Jamie and one of the opposing players collide and land in a hilariously suggestive heap, like the dude's face is right on Jamie's crotch or they end up missionary with Jamie's legs sticking up in front of the crowd. Jamie and the player dissolve into giggles and it starts the whole stadium rolling in laughter. Roy on the other hand is not amused in the least. Jamie loves it when Roy gets all possessive and jealous.

HAHAA

Jamie never saw Liam coming, they slammed right into each other.

Fortunately it’s Liam, Liam is great, they were on the national team together, he’s got a great husband, hell Liam and Jamie even hang out on the off season.

“Oh good Christ Liam you are bigger then you look.”

Liam let’s out a laugh, “you’re smaller then you look when you’re under me.”

Jamie glances down huh. They really look like they are having sex. He throws his head back and laughs brining his arms around to hold onto Liam. Jamie decides to really go for it and brushes Liam’s hair out of his eyes.

“What would your husband say this is scandalous.”

Liam bursts into laughter. He pulls away but reaches an arm down to pull Jamie up. When they are both back steady on their feet Jamie wraps an arm around Liam’s waist, they both wave to the crowd that’s been laughing at them.

“For the record he’d ask you to join. He’s not too possessive on the field, I’m wearing his last name after all.”

Jamie feels himself blush, he smacks Liam’s chest, but goes up on his toes to kiss the man’s cheek quickly. “Roy’d kill him.”

Liam nods towards the sidelines, “he’s about to kill me. Go see your man and text me later.”

They high-five before taking off to their sides. Jamie slides to a stop in front of medical. Just a quick concussion check that he knows he’ll pass.

Roy comes over during it. Once the medic leaves he sits next to Jamie, he turns his body to hide one of Jamie’s hands.

He doesn’t grab a hand though he grabs a wrist. “I don’t know what he said to you but it looked like you enjoyed it.”

Jamie flushes. “Said his husband wouldn’t mind a threesome. Told him you’d try to kill Jack though.”

Roy let’s put a growl. “Damn straight I’d kill him. You’re mine.”

“Okay enough.” Jamie says with a push to Roy’s shoulder, “can’t run or focus if I’m this hard.”

Roy let’s out a laugh. “Go play. But you’re mine later.”

“I’m always yours.” It’s a toss away comment but Jamie says it with a kiss and a spin.

He takes off across the field.

—————

“You know I’m yours did you really have to make it hard for me to walk. Liam and I are gonna get coffee this morning. He’s never letting me live this down.”

“Play stupid games get stupid prizes. You quite literally asked if I wanted to have a foursome with them while I was fucking you. Also I’m happy to let you know that Jack gave Liam the same treatment.”

“Oh my god do you two text??”

“You two are out at clubs sometimes, we met years ago. Figured why not meet up and talk about our respective pains.”

“I’m making this a double date and telling Liam to bring Jack.”

(They never have a foursome but the line gets toed every once and a while.. with clubbing experiences…. Jamie and Liam definitely dance together to make their men jealous…..)

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #fluff #royjamie #jamie tartt x roy kent #I very quickly developed Liam and Jack but I have lots of ideas they might reappear #thanks for the ask !!#hope you like !!

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theregoesmylurkerstatus · 8 months

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Okay, have to end it there for today, folks! Thoughts so far are mostly 1) Matt continues to impress with his acting and poker face right from the beginning (ah, years of being both a DM and a voice actor...) and 2), this remains true in campaign 2 as well -- I really like how Matt handles insight checks! He tells them what they notice, what they can discern about the character and what was said, without just telling them what is and isn't true, generally speaking. It's just really cool that Matt (and the cast in general, honestly) pay more attention to the story-telling, roleplaying aspect of it rather than reducing it all to "you win/lose this roll" mechanics.

Not sure when I'll finish this episode, but hopefully it won't be TOO long!

#critical role #campaign 1 #c1e04 #ramblings #yes I know Clarota betrays them (extreme rip) so I was paying attention to their insight checks #I have no idea when/how he betrays them so I'll be curious to learn whether he was pulling a long con or whether he turned on them!#also noticed this similar thing #in that right from the beginning the cast (specifically liam is who made me notice)#don't just say 'i use my attack action'#they say 'i take my dagger and plunge it into his neck'#very good description aiding the DM's narration thank you sir

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arachnidiots · 3 months

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liam , what color does your love feel like ?

BRIGHT SUNNY YELLOW !

sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun. your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. it's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. it's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. it's the the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment. it's the impatience too. the bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. it's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. and still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it. it's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait. it's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven. it's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. and you bonce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. it's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. and it does, i promise it does. the waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. and it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

tagged by @danversiism / tagging @morteuse @cybyte @crushsung @flynnherbert @hellsputina & you!

#thank you for tagging me in this! absolutely adored this quiz i love colors i love to assign colors to liam #also they really are always yellow. that’s their color #there is no color better suited to them #one token please / dash games #cannot get enough of the idea it’s all about relentlessness and waiting

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upsidedowngrass · 1 year

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talk to me about ur liam thoughts hello

OF COURSE i need to talk about liam at least once a day or i explode

ive been spending a lot of time trying to like COMPLETELY figure out his personality bc its so subtle (WHICH is certainly at least somewhat intentional) and so far its like. every time i rewatch one i find AANOTHER aspect of his personality i didnt notice

for example this guy does NOT seem confrontational by nature. like many times in s1 when airy is fucking things up liam is like. um no thanks :) . it rly looks like his go-to in stressful situations is to wait things out, and the only reason he starts to deviate from this is bc it v much starts to be clear that this situation is Not smth he can wait out. his interacts w bryce and airy in s2 VERY much come across as like... this is not his usual pace and that alone is a key factor in him being So Extremely Stressed. he wants to get the others out as fast as possible and the fact that thats NOT smth he can simply wait out is NOT helping. hes confrontational as a last resort and a last resort only

(side note that the only times he seems to get verbally pissed off w ppl is when theyre being hypocritical, ignoring key details, etc. thatperson has also mentioned him being very practical? and i think thats accurate. like i think if someone asked him abt the trolley problem hed end up begrudgingly picking to save the group of ppl; he would LOVE if everyone is saved, but i think under stress/extreme conditions he sometimes relies on a very Autism sense of Numerically, What Is The Most Beneficial Outcome?)

im also?? working on a far too indepth essay post (it is currently at 659 words) and like. the post is specifically regarding Why He Acts How He Does In Ep 18, and?? i have to go back over it again to check, but the topic of Him Being Angry is a factor but not the main point so since im tqalking abt his personality rn ill put it here, is that??? he does NOT get mad easily. even when he argues w bryce im p sure its bc bryce has a more emotional response to things than he does (important note, that bryce was very good at talking to oscar while liam wasnt!! despite them often being seen like pessimistic logical person and optimistic emotional person, im pretty sure its the OPPOSITE, it simply looks the other way bc the situation highlights their personalities in a Very Interesting Way) and liam is stressed so he does NOT rly Get It. i dont think hes even angry at bryce half of the time during most of the arguments. liam seems to naturally say many things that could be taken as being rude to say wo them being intended as such and i think that extends to arguing. i think during aarguments he is simply Loud bc "ahhhh people need to LISTEN to me and volume does that" though i need to keep looking into this more so this interpretation of liam is potentially subject to change

#ask #put this under a readmore bc im actually gonna tag this and i dont wanna clog the tag #bc ive been wanting to post many of these ideas for a while but keep forgetting to LOL #hfjone #ALSO i hope this is what u were looking for . bc my autism was activated and i need to talk about every aspect of liam ever #and ended up getting VERY enthusiastic abt this topic bc i think abt it SO much #as such i have no clue how cohesive it is #ANYWAY thank you so so much for asking me about liam . he is on my mind EVERY day of my life

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louiseparker · 2 years

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The Serpent and the Lion by louiseparker

“Louis doesn’t know what lives in boys like Harry—magnificently beautiful boys who should want for nothing, but somehow still have a quiet dissatisfaction for life simmering underneath the surface. The change in Harry was something Louis never thought he’d see, but then again, nothing that had been happening lately was ever in Louis’s line of prediction.”

Seventh year Hogwarts AU in which Harry Styles is a Gryffindor jock with daddy issues, Louis is just trying to get through the year, and Liam, Zayn, and Niall rarely ever know what the hell is going on.

🪄 tags: enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, internalized homophobia, coming of age, coming out, pining, original characters

Completed on Wattpad & AO3 💌

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loonylupinblack3 · 28 days

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Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe.

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness.

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fluff #f1 fluff #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

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upsidedownwithsteve · 5 months

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[4.5K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+

A/N: sorry, no advent blurb today as we’re v tired and v sick and writing doesn’t sound fun. but please have an old fic that was once on the masterlist

“This is a bad idea,” you whispered, shy, nervous, wanting to curl into yourself.

Steve stayed still behind you, your back to his chest, his legs bent and framing your own. His hand stroked over your knee, a safe distance, one that didn’t add too much pressure to the situation. The boy pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose nudging your temple. “We can stop, if you want.” His voice was quiet and filled with soft sincerity. “It’s okay.”

But you’d asked for this, face flushed, squirming on Steve’s bed sheets ‘cause how on earth did you go from watching Fast Times at Ridgemont High to talking about sex to telling your best friend you’d never had an orgasm?

“What?” He’d asked, face soft with shock. “What about those six months you dated that guy, whatshisface? Liam?”

“Lewis,” you’d corrected, fingers pulling uncomfortably at the blanket Steve kept at the end of his bed for you. “And no, he just couldn’t get me there, I guess. Maybe it was me. It’s gotta be me, I can’t even make it happen myself.”

Steve had paused at that, looking at you with parted lips and soft eyes ‘cause you looked so sad, so frustrated, defeat taking over from the embarrassment you’d felt in admitting such a thing.

“It’s not you,” he’d said, determined. “He should’ve taken his time with you or— or, found out what you liked.”

You huffed out a laugh at that, humourless and tired. You shrugged, hands falling into your lap. “How’s that fair when I don’t even know what I like myself?”

You don’t know what happened after that. Just that the movie was paused and the evening outside turned to night, Steve’s blue room turning navy in the shadows, the dull glow of his bedside lamp making your bare legs turn apricot and rosy in the light. His hand looked so big against your knee, like he could swallow you whole.

You asked him. Voice quiet, words making the boy’s cheeks turn pink. Asked him to help, to show you, to tell you what you were doing wrong which sounded so ridiculous, because Jesus Christ, it was your body, for fuck sake.

You sucked in a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m just— being stupid. We can keep going.”

You felt Steve relax a little behind you, his body sinking into the pile of pillows at his headboard, your body falling into his in turn. His thumb drew circles on the side of your knee, a touch you’d felt before: during a horror movie in the dark of the cinema, in the front seat of his car when you cried about a boy who wasn’t him, when he’d argued with his dad and you piled yourself into his lap for comfort.

“Are you sure?” Steve whispered and his voice was right by your ear, lips almost touching the shell of it. It made you shiver, spine tingling. “And you’re not stupid. This, the way you feel. It’s not stupid, okay?”

You realised he was waiting for you to answer him, so you nodded, chest tight at his earnest words, always trying to make you feel better. He’d once told you when you were both only thirteen, that that was his job and he’d proven it true ever since.

“Yeah, m’sure.” You let your head rest against his, cheek to his chin, day old stubble rough against your skin. “Thanks, Steve.”

A silence swept over you both, not exactly uncomfortable but not an easy one either, not like it usually was. ‘Cause your skirt was hitched up high, the hem of it falling towards the tops of your thighs when you’d bent your knees and sat between Steve’s legs. He’d patted the space there and your body had burned, but you’d obeyed all the same. His thumb was still rubbing circles and your hands lay awkwardly in your lap until finally, finally, Steve took them in his own and placed them flat over your thighs, his bigger ones covering your fingers.

“So you’ve never, ever—?”

“No,” you whispered it back, like a dirty secret. Something to be ashamed about. “Can't even manage it myself… it’s— fuck, I don’t know.” You choked off your own words, heated embarrassment creeping up the back of your neck.

Steve squeezed your hands, gentle, soothing. “S’okay. Do you, uh, do you try? A lot?”

He sounded nervous too and suddenly you were thankful for this position, eyes hidden from each other, knowing his cheeks would be flushed, too pretty to look at. You sucked in a breath and nodded. “Sometimes, yeah. I guess. It’s just— I either get interrupted or it doesn’t feel right and then the times when it does, I just can’t… can’t. You know.”

“Finish?” Steve supplied helpfully.

You nodded again.

“Okay, uh, why don’t you— do you wanna, try? Show me?” You heard him swallow audibly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and you felt his jaw tense against your temple, where you were leaning against him.

You stiffened, and Steve felt that too, so he tangled his fingers between your own and used his thumb and yours to skim up and down your legs. You wondered if he noticed how warm you were, if he realised you were running so much hotter than before.

“It’s just me,” he whispered to you, head ducked tucked down so he words fell into the crook of your neck. He sounded so soft, familiar, like the sixteen year old who’d picked you up from your shitty first date and told you that the next boy that hurt you would have to deal with him. “Do you trust me?”

You licked your bottom lip, mouth dry but you made a noise of agreement. “Yeah, I trust you.” You felt his smile, felt the affection ripple through him and back into you, ‘cause you really, really did. More than anyone, you thought.

“We can stop whenever you want, alright?” Steve said and you bobbed your head, suddenly feeling clumsy, fingers too small between his own, legs splayed out like a broken down China doll. You dug your toes into the mattress and breathed out. “Show me.” Steve whispered again. “Show me what you do.”

It took a second, maybe five, for your heart to stop rattling against your chest, for your bones to stop vibrating. But you took one hand from Steve’s and pressed it between your thighs, hidden under your skirt. Your underwear was still very much on and you were unsure how to go about that, so you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to find your clit the best you could under the cotton, shifting your fingers over the fabric.

Then Steve tsked, a soft sound that didn’t come across as reprimanding as it should’ve, but between that and his hand catching yours again, you stopped, unsure.

“You normally just dive right in like that?” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb over your knuckle. “Christ, you gotta be nicer to yourself, babe, you need to relax more.”

“I do?”

Steve laughed quietly, a huff of spearmint breath falling across your cheek and wasn’t unkind, it didn’t make you shrink like you thought it would’ve. “Well, yeah,” Steve answered. “You gotta warm yourself up, right? Get in the mood. Hasn’t anyone taken their time with you? Made you feel like, uh, like putty?”

“Putty?” Your lips kicked up at the corners, lashes fluttering as your eyes closed, happy to listen to Steve and the smile in his voice. He sounded shy, and it was lovely, it made you feel better, warmer, ready for what was happening.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “You know, all gooey n’shit. Nice. Relaxed.” Steve sucked in a breath and pressed your joined hands to your thigh, his so much wider and covering much more skin. “You’re real cute, babe, someone’s gotta treat you the same way.”

“No,” you shook your head, trying not to sound too sad about it, ‘cause Steve’s hand on your bare skin was starting to make you feel real nice, warm, just like he was describing. Except you were anything but relaxed, heartbeat a livewire racing through your bones, a new pulse thrumming, stomach jumping at each touch. “You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t sure why you asked that, but suddenly, you were desperate to know.

“You kiddin’?” Steve said and you could hear the smile there, the one you knew so well. He leaned in, chin hooked over your shoulder when he felt you settle back against him, body more lax than before. His lips brushed your cheek when he spoke. “You’re the cutest girl in town, d’you not know that?”

You squirmed, too pleased with his comment but embarrassed all the same. Steve always gave you too much attention but it was the way it had always been, a little flirting over the diner table, his hand on the small of your back when you walked through too big crowds, an offered cheek for you to kiss goodbye when he dropped you home after school.

“Shut up,” you whispered, voice thick and quiet and caught in your throat. You didn’t mean that. You didn’t want him to shut up at all. And Steve knew that.

“Now, if you’re the cutest thing in all of Hawkins,” he continued, emboldened by the way you tucked your head into the crook of his neck, letting your fingers go soft between his own. “Don’t you think you gotta be nice to yourself?”

Your breath stuttered and hitched in your chest and despite the nerves that still pinballed around in your stomach, your thighs dropped open a little, the hem of your skirt hitching higher still and Steve swallowed down a curse.

“I don’t think I know how.” It was embarrassing, admitting it, cheeks on fire, nose scrunched even though Steve couldn’t see.

His hands swept up your thighs, taking yours with them, stopping short of creeping under your skirt before retreating back down to your knees. “Like this,” the boy whispered. “See? Nice and sweet. Slow.”

You wanted to let your hands fall away, wanted to feel Steve’s rough fingertips and wide palms span over your skin but when you tried to pull away, Steve only tightened his grip. “Ah, ah, c’mon. You can’t learn if I do it for you.”

There was a whine stuck in your throat; a bratty, moody noise that you didn’t dare let out in fear of being teased by the boy for all of entirety but Steve seemed to sense your frustration anyway.

“C’mon, you got this.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to wherever he could reach, a warm smack of his lips against the skin under your ear, right by your jaw. “Relax, remember?”

So you did, letting out a small sigh before sinking back into him, legs widening and letting Steve drag your hands up and down your thighs, your skin erupting in goosebumps every time you felt a particularly rough graze of Steve’s short nails.

“What d’you think about?” He asked, voice hushed, almost hoarse. It sounded dirty, like a secret you weren’t supposed to tell anyone else about. “When you touch yourself? What d’you think about?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged, a gasp wrenching out from you when Steve moved your hands inwards, to the softer dough of your thighs, creeping higher and higher until you felt the cotton and lace edge of your underwear against your fingertips.

“I dunno,” your voice didn’t sound like your own. “Someone else, I guess. Someone’s fingers, instead of my own. Being— being kissed and their, their mouth. Lips. Tongues.”

If Steve’s hips twitched up into your own, you were sure you’d imagined it. But he took a second before he answered, nodding so his nose pressed into your cheek, his hair fell over your own.

“S’good,” he agreed, praising you like any teacher would. “What about their mouth, huh? Where d’you want it?”

You squirmed, face on fire, teeth chewing something rotten at your poor bottom lip and when you didn’t answer, Steve took your hand and placed it over your cunt, the cotton there suddenly more damp than it was before. You wanted to throw yourself out the window. Or worse, at Steve.

“Here?” The boy suggested. He wasn’t really touching you, just his hand over your wrist and fingers, guiding, pressing slightly. “Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”

You shook your head, unable to stop the little whine that came out with it, disappointment colouring the sound. Steve tutted, cooing at you with sympathy and he let out a stuttered sigh when you took it upon yourself to press two fingers closer to your clit, seeking out some friction.

“That’s a real shame, you know that?” Steve’s hands left yours, only to grasp your waist and pull you back into him a little firmer and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel him, hard under his jeans, pressed into the bottom of your back.

It only made you press your fingers into yourself harder.

“It is?” You were breathless, each word a huff of air, face screwed up and eyes shut tight as you tried to work out where you wanted your fingers the most.

“Fuck, yeah it’s a shame, babe.” Steve whispered. “Told you, didn’t I? You’re the sweetest girl there is. And someone’s not tasted you? Not told how sweet you really are?” Steve blew out a breath, as if exasperated. “That’s just unfair.”

“Steve.” You weren't sure what you were whining your best friend's name for. For release? Permission? Guidance? All of the above, maybe.

But Steve seemed to know, ‘cause he nudged your hand closer to your cunt, coaxed you into running your fingers over your cotton covered folds. “Yeah?” He asked and his voice was hoarse, a little wrecked sounding. “Ready for more? Feelin’ good?”

You nodded, clumsy, breath coming out a little heavier than before.

Steve let one finger flirt with the edge of your underwear, along the lace trim where your cunt met your thigh and he snapped the elastic against you, feeling brave when you pressed back against him, like you couldn’t be close enough.

“Want these off?” You heard him swallow hard, sounding quieter than before. “Don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can do whatever—”

You lifted your hips in answer, one hand holding onto Steve’s thigh for support as the other dragged down your underwear and your cheeks cringed with heat as you caught a glimpse of how wet the cotton was. You balled them into your fist, shoving them to the bottom of Steve’s bed and they lay there like a flashing neon sign, all lilac and buttercream coloured flowers, lacy and mortifying.

Your skirt still covered you, hiding a lot from Steve. But the boy could look over your shoulder and see the way your chest heaved, nipples pebbled underneath your T-shirt, the one you’d stolen from him freshman year and made into a crop top. You were all legs, soft thighs, socked feet digging into his duvet, skirt flirting dangerously with all that bare skin underneath. He tried not to rut up into you, but he knew you had to feel him by now, his hard cock pressed against your spine, twitching at every breathy noise you let out.

“What next?” You asked and you sounded desperate, more pent up than you’d ever felt before and you wondered if it was really because you were taking your time with it, if all these slow touches really worked. You wondered if it was Steve. “Should I just—?”

Your fingers dug into your thighs, sitting over your skin alone ‘cause Steve was gripping at his own knees, knuckles white on the denim. “Fuck,” his voice cracked. “Just, uh, do what feels good, yeah?”

You made a sound of protest, frustration spilling up and out of your throat because this is where it went wrong, fingers fumbling, unsure where to touch to be able to coax you over the edge.

“Hey, hey, s’alright,” Steve assured you, whispering again. “Give me your hand.”

You did, without hesitation, and together, with Steve’s fingers twisted between your own, he guided your touch underneath your skirt. You held your breath as you felt your own fingers - and the boy’s - slip between your folds, your legs parting automatically for him. You felt his breath hitch and fall over your cheek as you let out a tiny moan, urging him on, your fingers following his as he swept up and down your cunt, gathering up the slick there before pressing your middle finger to your clit.

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he sounded awed when you cried out, a soft grunt that made him see fucking God. “That good?”

You could barely speak. “Yeah,” you whispered on a breath, head lolling back to rest against his shoulder, giving Steve an unobstructed view down your front, to the way your hands could be seen between your thighs, skirt rucked up around them.

“Atta’ girl, keep doin’ that, okay?”

You did as you were told, adding your pointer finger to the mix, rubbing the two digits over your clit in soft circles, panting every time you felt Steve’s fingers slip between your own. Steve’s free hand was on your waist, a vice-like grip that you weren’t sure he was aware of, his palm on the strip of bare skin between your top and skirt. Every time you let out a shy noise, he squeezed, kneading at the dough there.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, jaw slack as he watched you work at yourself, never letting go of his hand and fuck, fuck, you were so wet, velvet heat under his touch.

“D’you use your fingers?” Steve asked you, lips against your cheek, both of you leaning into each other as if you were unable to help it. “Inside? Do you put your fingers inside yourself?”

Twenty minutes ago, you would’ve died if the boy had asked you such a thing, but now? Now? Now you whined at it, cunt clenching around nothing at the idea of it and you shook your head, temple rubbing against Steve’s cheek in a way that killed him with how fond it was.

“Not really,” you whispered to him, ‘cause even with his fingers slipping over your clit, you were still so shy. “Don’t feel big enough, never- shit - never full enough.”

Steve swore his eyes rolled back into his skull, ‘cause all he could see was white, a blank flash over his vision that felt white hot. He rubbed soothing at your waist, let his fingers span over the width of your side, blunt nails sliding over your ribs. “Poor girl,” he sympathised and he smiled when you whined as he pulled your fingers away. “Shh, gimme a minute, hey? Here, just, try this, huh?”

You didn’t get to ask what he was meaning before the fingers that had been rubbing over your slick skin were in his mouth, two digits pressed to his tongue and Steve sucked. He licked over the pads, most definitely tasting you and you felt his chest rumble with a groan he tried to keep in. And then, as quick as it happened, it was over.

Steve brought your spit slick fingers back between your thighs, nudging the tips of them against your entrance. You keened, hips arching off the bed a little until Steve soothed you back down against him, mouthing over your jaw and cheek in a touch that definitely couldn’t be misconstrued as a kiss.

You sighed as you slid them in, two fingers fucking into yourself as deep as you could manage, slipping in easily with how insanely turned on you were. You hooked them up, like all the articles in the magazines you hid from your parents told you to do, searching for that spot that would apparently make you see stars. But you fell short, fingers not long enough and your clit was aching with neglect.

“Steve,” you felt close to tears, the usual frustration bubbling at the surface of your chest, ready to pop and simmer over. You’d have normally given up by now. “Steve, s’not working.”

“Gotta be patient, babe,” Steve assured you, “gotta be nice to yourself, c’mon, don’t let your head take over.”

But Steve saw the tear that rolled down your cheek and he caught your chin, titling your face towards him as he frowned down at you. You looked wrecked, heartbroken and all pent up, lips red and slick from where you’d chewed at them, eyes all glassy.

He shouldn’t have asked. But he was already in too deep. What does it matter now, right?

Right?

“Want me to help?”

He waited, one second, two, three and then you nodded, relief and disbelief filling his chest all at once. He swallowed back a broken moan and tapped his thumb at your chin, just catching your pouting bottom lip. “You gotta tell me, please?”

“Please, Steve, please. I want you to touch me.”

He’d died. He was dead.

But then you were pulling at his wrist and guiding it back between your legs, your fingers slick from where they’d been inside of yourself and Steve wasn’t sure he was able to handle it. His middle finger nudged up against your entrance and Steve felt it flutter, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was for you, not him.

He was rock fucking hard.

“Ready?” He asked in a last bid for confirmation. You were laying fully against him now, thighs pressed to his, skirt barely covering you and you nodded so furiously that Steve didn’t dare ask you to speak again. “Okay, I’ve got you, alright?”

His finger slid in so easily and you clenched around him, velvet heat that made his heart stutter and his cock kick up against your spine. You immediately felt the difference, the boy’s finger thicker and longer, already reaching parts of you that you’d never felt. You felt like you were going to burst.

“More?” Steve asked and his voice eas shot, eyes closing at the feel of you, your small hand wrapped around his wrist to ensure he wouldn’t stop and Steve wanted to tell you he’d never stop if you didn’t want him to, that he’d do this every fucking day if you’d let him. “Another?”

“Another,” you agreed and god, you weren’t holding back anymore, moans tumbling from your lips when Steve slid another finger in with his first, the feeling of your cunt tightening around him making you both cry out.

Your hips were shifting against him, listing yourself on and off of his fingers and he groaned, stuttered dirty, filthy words into your hair as he let you fuck yourself down onto his didgits. The friction was too much for him, his cock straining in the denim, weeping for release.

“Touch yourself, babe,” he managed to groan out, sighing at the sight of you doing what he told, hand flying to your thighs so you could rub messy, wet fingers over your clit. “That’s it, good girl. Jesus, are you close? I can feel you - fucking hell - I can feel you getting tighter.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, a sob ripping through your chest and Steve decided it wasn’t a good idea to ask, deciding that he needed to get you out of your own head so your body could take over.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” He asked instead, a whisper against your ear, his breath warm on your neck, his fingers spanning upupup until they grazed the lace of your bra. You rutted against his hand harder, whining when he hit a deep spot inside of you, one that made your vision go blue-white. “You do, don’t you? My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had went down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”

Steve slid his fingers in and out of you a little faster to get his point across, sweating when you moaned his name. His name. Your own fingers were moving with intent now; tight concise circles that were making your toes curl.

“Would you let me do that? Huh?” Steve dared to asked, grinning when you almost ripped the sleeve off his shirt as you grabbed at his arm, lips falling open in a long moan. “Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.” Steve’s eyes closed for just a second at the thought of it. “Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look—”

You seized up, body stiffening as you let out a noise Steve would never forget, a breathy moan of his name that he’d think about every time he fisted his own cock. He kept pumping his fingers into you, eyes wide as your own hand faltered and you shook, head slumping back against his shoulder as you decided to hold onto him instead, hands reaching back to grab at his shoulders, his neck, his hair.

Your pussy was a vice around his fingers, filthy, wet sounds filling his bedroom and he was pretty damn sure but he had to ask, he had to know—

“You comin’, babe? Yeah?” You nodded, frantic, eyes slammed shut and nose scrunched up all cute and Steve couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. “Fucking hell, oh shit, yeah, there you go, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it—”

He wasn’t even ashamed that he came in his jeans like a teenager, in fact, he was a little insane with it. White spots over his vision as his cock twitched and jumped, letting his hips grind against your ass as you whined, your cunt still fluttering around his fingers as he slowed down the way they pumped in and out of you. He heard you swear when he finally pulled them away, slick with your release, sliding them into his mouth as if hiding the evidence.

Your eyes finally met Steve’s when you turned and flopped onto the bed next to him, mattress shifting as you both panting, chests heaving. He turned to find you already staring, eyes wide and cheeks flushed the prettiest colour, almost matching his own.

“Holy fucking shit,” you managed on a gasp.

“Told you,” he managed to say, fighting to keep the smile of his lips.

“What?” You frowned at him, wondering what on earth he wanted to say to you after that. He still looked like your best friend, still sounded like him too. Maybe just a little more smug. “Told me what?”

Steve took the time to push his finger into his mouth once more, enjoying the way your face burned, lips falling open as you watched, unblinking. He let his tongue wrap around it, chasing what was left of your taste until he let it go with a dirty pop.

“Sweetest girl in this fucking town,” he said.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington oneshot

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captainreecejames · 2 months

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The failed soft launch series (Lando's Version)

author's note : okay so here is lando's version (obvs) and if you guys want me to write with other drivers in mind (only Oscar, Logan, Alex, Yuki, Liam, Pierre, and Carlos) send me a message and preferably what picture you think would fit with this idea thanks! Also since I don't have a master list all my stories are tagged 'my stories' so you can find them

pairing : lando norris x fem!reader *no faceclaim*

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landonorris babe ynusername hi landonorris you're gonna regret this in the morning

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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

ynusername brb changing my name to lando.jpg.bts tagged : landonorris

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landonorris lovely idea but what about the normal content? I need pictures to drool over ↳ lance_stroll wank bank? ↳ landonorris shut up I don't want to go to another meeting about that

oscarpiastri dont do that. I don't need more lando on my feed ↳ landonorris then unfollow ↳ oscarpiastri blocked and reported

yourbsfinstagram i agree with oscar, no more lando

ynfans1 and we say more lando!!! yn give the people what they want ↳ ynfans2 more lando boyfriend content!!!

ynusername also lando, i didn't regret my story so haha jokes on you↳ landonorris jokes on you too cause now i get to share all my pictures of you

#lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x fem!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #my stories #formula 1 smau

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