#it just felt right to not try to decorate this one in a lot of symbolic fanfare

[daycourtofficial]

Personal update below

Tw: pregnancy loss, miscarriage, blood

Here it is, the words I’ve been unable to type, much less say out loud. Late in the night a few nights ago, I woke up to some abdominal cramping and went to the bathroom. I had been bleeding vaginally all day, but not enough to be super concerned.

I woke up and went to the bathroom, and knew something was wrong. To spare the details, I was bleeding a lot, cramping severely, and I knew my baby was gone. I felt empty inside, despite only being about 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. Intuition, I suppose. I just felt so lonely, as if I wasn’t supposed to be the only occupant in my body.

My husband took me to the hospital and after hours of invasive poking, prodding, and testing, a nurse practitioner I will likely never see again, who will likely never think of me again, told me that my baby was gone. He was straight forward, which I like in medical personnel. He told me my pregnancy was unviable and that it’s common. That we shouldn’t worry. These things happen. It’s normal, common. The three or so minutes felt like an eternity, waiting for him to leave so I could fall apart in the privacy of my husband’s arms, despite the lack of privacy an emergency department offers.

The hospital was so sterile, the bright lights and lack of windows made it impossible for you to track the passage of time. The winding hallways a maze of monotony, making it impossible to know how to return to your room without a guide. The walls were devoid of any real color, save for tv screens and workplace posters. And yet, the room I was placed in was the only room with decorative curtains. All the other curtains were just a shade of navy.

Mine had flowers on it, as if the world or God or the hospital wanted to offer me some reprieve, some reminder that for the hospital, this was routine, but that it wasn’t routine for me. That I deserved something for my eyes to find comfort in.

So here it is, the new reality I find myself in. My baby is gone. The rare statement that, once it becomes true, will never change.

I’m reeling a bit from this loss, as you can imagine. I’m gutted. I got married right at the beginning of the year, falling pregnant not long after. I joked with my husband that I started the year off becoming a wife and was ending the year becoming a mom. I suppose it really was just a joke in the end, but I’m not sure if the punchline was me or my continued optimism, in spite all that I’ve endured.

Anyway, everyone was extraordinarily kind to me when I had posted that I was pregnant. I know that technically I don’t owe anyone details of my personal life, especially not this personal, but I wanted to share it because I don’t want to be sad and alone. And perhaps this will find its way to someone else who has felt some loss recently, whether it be the loss of someone or something, or a loss of self or identity, or a loss of the future you had planned out. Maybe they will feel some connection to this. Or maybe one day someone will think of this as they reel with their own loss.

I don’t regret sharing the news so early, despite the circumstances that have now led me to making this post. Any joy we can find is worth sharing, even if it’s fleeting, especially if it’s fleeting, and even if it’s for some stranger on the internet.

Anyway, I have my dogs and my husband, who are very loving. I’m not sure when I’ll post this, I’ll likely stick it in my queue somewhere so it feels less like I’m hitting the ‘post’ button and more like softly whispering all of this in the wind.

I will be okay, I always am. Grief is a black hole I am trying navigate and figure out where it ends and I begin, trying to remember what my new life will be like and how to grieve yet another version of myself lost to time and trauma and sadness.

There is no narrative device here, nothing I did could’ve changed the outcome. Sometimes the world is just needlessly cruel.

This doesn’t really affect anything on here or what I choose to interact with. I’m still okay discussing/reading/writing about babies and kids and everything in that realm. I just didn’t want anyone asking after the baby and making someone feel bad for wanting to know how I was doing.

Anyway, I don’t want to end this on a despairing note, even though that is the tune of my life at the moment. I want to remember that my now is not my forever, and I hope anyone reading this that is experiencing any manner of suffering takes as much out of that sentiment as I do.

Yours,

V ❤️

#personal note

[notapersob]

@mcythorrorgiftexchange

@turtlecase

Grian watcher god fae reference? Mayhaps?

I hope this is horror-y enough? Sorry I really struggled. Turns out this event collided with the last 3 weeks of college and I got super busy and struggled to come up with ideas. Thus drawing does have a short writing thing attached to it (under the cut) but I wrote it a year ago so I didn't wsnt to submit it for this event all by itself.

The writing thingy --->

Its neck snapped and cracked, contorting itself. The thing swiveled it's head around to stare at Scar. Six black wings tore out of its skin. They were covered in eyes. They all stared at him, glowing a dim violet.

"What a peculiar little thing you are" a voice echoed. It sent chills down his spine. He had never felt so small.

Scar could make out what resembled a human face but it looked wrong. It cracked when the thing moved, stitching itself back together. Scar wondered what was under the mask. He couldn't seem to look away, he wanted to know. Like a moth to a flame. Not realizing the danger till it was too late.

"What are you?" Scar tried to back away.

The creature trilled, it laughed at Scars ignorance. "That is of no importance to you,"

"But-"

"Hushhh, you've ran yourself into something you do not understand. What is your name?"

He wasn't sure how he should answer. "You may call me Scar"

"You're funny," it smiled. A talloned hand reached out. It's whole hand was covered in what looked to be a sort of mold. It was black like the sky. Where it warped a deep purple grew in place. The fingertips were sharp. They gently traced the scar across his lip, then moving to his hair. It was curious. Well, so was he.

"What can i call you?" Scar tread carefully. He may be curious but he would like to stay alive. Though, he heard stories where unfortunate humans became eternal servants to the fae they angered. But that's not the worst they can do. Maybe death would be a gift.

The hand left his hair, leaving it a mess. He pushed it out of his face. "Hmm, I dont know, why don't you choose"

"Oh" Scar was surprised. "Uhmm."

"Is something wrong" it's head tilted, or twisted. It was a little unnerving.

"Well, to be honest I wasn't expecting to still be alive, let alone have enough time to think of a good name to call you."

"I could change that" it smiled deviously, the glow of its many eyes flashing bright purple and dimming just as fast as they appeared.

"As much as I appreciate the offer, It would be preferable to avoid death for the time being." Scar laughed nervously. He racked his brain for a good name for his new... friend? He tapped his fingers nercoulsy together trying to think of anything… bread.. Butter.. Wheat.. Grain. Graaiin.. Grian. Grian? For the life of him he cant understand why bread was on his mind. He thought of food when he was nervous and right now a nice good loaf of bread might just make him forget he’s face to face with some sort of eldrige god or something. "Hmmm, does... Grian work?" Scar offered.

"Yes, I think that'll do" it said excitedly. "Gri-an.. gria-nnn, grian" it tested the sound of the name.

Scar laughed. "So are you a girl, a boy? Neither?"

"None, all. It changes, does that even matter? I am a being beyond your mortal rules."

"Cool ok" Scar whispered, wiping his hands on his dirt covered jeans.

The wind picked up. The purple leaves spun up in the air. Grian slowly lowered himself from where he was hovering. His wings folded inward. Scar thought he could hear bones snapping. Grian landed on the ground. They looked a lot smaller then they had before.

He now only had one set of wings with significantly fewer eyes. Scar looked at Grian's face. Where the white of the eyes should be, they were black. He had short golden brown hair, the longest unkempt strands reaching his shoulders. He was a whole head shorter than Scar. He used to stand at least seven feet tall. He was beautiful. His pointed ears were decorated with silvers and golds.

"I owe you now." Grian grabbed hold of Scars hand, all too eagerly. His grip stung, the humanoid bird not quite understanding what a normal amount of strength is. A bright ring of light surrounded the point where their hands joined. The white swirls landed on their arms creating a beautiful pattern. The light disappeared into his skin. He blinked his eyes, getting used to the dark again. The swirls left white marks on his arm, it looked like some sort of abstract tattoo.

"Whoa". He knew he should probably be concerned by what just happened but this was the most spectacular thing to ever happen to him.

#grian hermitcraft #grian watcher #grian #hermitcraft #scarian #grian fanart #mcythorrorgiftexchange

[weirdmultishipper]

Everyone thinking Cale is suicidal and him doing nothing but fuel that belief.

So.... yeah! Another Cale fanfic! This is kinda a summary. I'll post this when I have more chapter on this fic and also the other Cale sicfic I'm working on.

This is basically Cale's slacker life. Kinda. With a lot of chaos.

It was another quiet day.

As always, people were bussling around the mansion. Administrators with work to do; knights with duties to take on; servants and maids with chores to finish; commoners with pleas to make; and the Henituses busying themselves in the work of the duchy.

All except a certain young master.

Cale was sitting by the window in a rocking chair, blankly staring at the scene outside. On and Hong were curled up in his lap in their Cat forms while Roan was sleeping in the comfy armrest of the rocking chair. He absentmindedly continued to pat all three children with soft, equal strokes, not unlike a machine.

The slacker was having a fun time doing nothing. Absoultly nothing. He was consistently patting the children averaging 8 years old while keeping his mind so blank, the author of this fanfic was feeling that the repeat of Cale's thought(less) process was so boring that she needed to cause some chaos.

"Hey, Choi Han," the redhead suddenly called out, his eyes never leaving the window.

The black-haired man gaurding the door turned to look at his liege who had been sitting silently for over an hour.

"Yes Cale-nim?"

Cale didn't answer back immediately, even though he was the one who initiated the conversation. He continued to look out the window before turning to study the intricate gold designs on the window sill. Cale then slightly leaned forward to better peer at the ground below. Cale's room in the Henituse esate was on the third floor.

Unlike Korea's buildings, which mostly have a relatively low ceiling because of cost and other factors, the floors of the manor were really high because of all the lights and chandeliers decorating the walls. After all, the Henituses' never lacked money. In conclusion, even with only being on the third floor, Cale felt like he was on a six-story surface.

Cale shared his honest opinions with Choi Han.

"Do you think I'd die if I jumped from here right now?"

Cale suddenly felt chills on his back. He subconcously straighened up, feeling like a teenager who had been trying to sneak out, only to be caught before he could.

"And why would you do that, Cale-nim?"

Choi Han's sickeningly sweet voice filled the room, not at all matching the aura he was currently emitting.

Cale gulped. He sensed that he just started a shitshow; without knowing how he did it.

#lout of the count’s family #trash of the count's family #tcf novel #cale henituse #totcf #totcf novel #totcf fanfiction #tcf cale #trash of the counts family #lotcf #cale being suicidal #and being oblivious to it #everyone is worrying over him #yes I write fanfiction

[stil-lindigo]

warmth.

a comic about not being alone.

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creative notes:

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all my other comics

store

#to all the trans men and women and anyone who feels like they have to stifle themselves for their own safety #may you never feel like youre alone in this #this comic is one of my more grounded ones #it just felt right to not try to decorate this one in a lot of symbolic fanfare #sometimes i have to go above and beyond to fit the vision. this felt right being pretty understated. #i really did my best with this one and i hope it shows #you all deserve so much joy and so much love from your partners in life #and i hope you like this and if you dont thats okay too #thats all #thank you for your support #and as always #thank you for reading #comic art #lgbtqia+ #queer comics #hearteaters #stillindigo art #stillindigo comics

[gojosprettyprincess]

Jujutsu Kaisen Men + How they'd moan w/audios.

Tw - dirty talk, assplay in Suguru's, daddy kink in Nanami's, (Got a bit carried away in the geto one haha) also not proofread cause I got tired.

A/n this was requested so tysm to the person that requested it but a part of it is kinda a repost because I've already done something similar before but I hope you guys like it! Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Nanami

Gojo Satoru

This is how Gojo sounds when he's close. (Ik this because he fucked me before so you can trust me on this)

He's very loud when he fucks you and he'd also whisper a lot of nasty shit to your ears while he's rutting his hips inside you, fucking you deeper into the bed while he has your legs over his shoulders, hissing and groaning at the way your tight cunt sucks him in so well, while your sinking your freshly manicured nails that he paid for into his back, decorating it with angry red marks and when he's close he'd be panting and breathing heavily on top of you, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead onto you from how much he's been fucking you.

"Fuckfuckfuck gonna fill you up so good baby, m'gonna stuff you so full of my cum, bet you'll like that yeah?".

Geto Suguru

This is how Suguru sounds while you're riding him in cowgirl position, he has a clear view of the way his cock slides into your soaked cunt every time you bounced on it, he just can't take his eyes off of it, the way your cunt would swallow his cock in and the way your ass jiggles every time you moved your hips, it was so hot. One thing that really caught his eye though was the way your asshole looked so neglected and desperate to be filled, he thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try something.

he spat on his right thumb, making sure to gets his spit all over it to use as lube before circling it around your hole, spreading his spit all around it then sinking his thumb slowly into the tight rim. He hisses as he felt how tight your ass was, clammed around his finger. He noticed how you started slowing down, and how your moans got so much louder, he lands a sharp slap on your ass. "Fuckkk sweetheart k-keep going, Fuck yeah, keep bouncing on my cock, yesss that's it, don't worry princess I'll make you feel s'good". He groans, feeling your cunt fluttering and cleaching around his cock.

He starts thumbing your ass, fucking his finger in and out of you matching your rhythm. "Holy fuck need you to cum, Be a good girl and cum f'me yeah?". He hisses, feeling you thrusting your hips faster and faster onto him, your brain gets all fuzzy and blank it was too much, both of your holes were getting stuffed and penetrated. You start feeling yourself getting closer and closer as you bounced yourself on top of him. "F-fuck sugu gonna cum, M'gonna cum!" you cried out. "Go ahead, cream on my cock baby you can do it fuckk", and that's all you needed to hear before you came undone, creaming all over his cock, rings of your nut appearing at the base of his cock, his thumb still buried in your ass to the hilt. He lets out a loud groan, looking at how your creamy cunt covered in cum. "Good fucking girl, see the mess you made on my cock baby?".

Toji Fushiguro

This is how he sounds when he's close, he doesn't really make that much noise while he's fucking you, maybe you'd earn a few groans and grunts once in a while because of your cunt but most of the time it's just dirty talk.

But when he's close, he gets so much louder and faster, he picks up his pace, hammering into you harder from behind while your face is buried into the pillow beneath you and landing harsh slaps onto the soft flesh of your ass while looking down to watch it jiggle everytime he thrust his hips against you. the sound of his cum filled balls that's waiting to be emptied inside your little cunny, slapping against your clit filling the room with each thrust along with your muffled moans. Your cunt was clamping around him like crazy because one thing about Toji, he always fucks you so good every damn time.

"Holy fucking shit, tight little cunt milking my cock so well, you gonna give me another kid baby or what?".

Choso Kamo

This is how he'd moan while you're on your knees sucking his cock and he's getting close; he'd be whimpering and moaning loudly while saying stuff like "pleasepleaseplease m'so close don't stop please" with tears prickling from his eyes while he's looking down at you. He begs you alot and he's also really sensitive so that makes him moan and whimper even more.

Nanami Kento

This is how he sounds when he's ramming his cock up into your poor messy cunny in his work office, purposely molding your tight hole into the shape of his thick girth as his large beefy hands gripping onto the back your thighs to hold your legs up into a full nelson-type positon but the difference is that he's sitting down and your back is leaning against his board chest.

His thrusts was hard and fast as he continues feeding your greedy tight cunt with his fat cock, loud pants and groans escaping his lips at the way your cunt tightens around his cock while he stretches you out. "Hah- oh fuckk such a good little slut, taking daddy's cock so well, s'good f'me baby". His deep and husky voice made you throbbing around his cock while he ruins you.

#jujutsu kaisen #Jjk #jjk twitter #twitter links #Twitter #Gojo satoru #Satoru gojo #gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk satoru #gojo x reader #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru smut #geto smut #sugusato #satosugu #choso kamo #choso smut #choso x female reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #dilf toji #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #kento smut #kento x reader

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff

[hellishjoel]

talk me down

3.7k / therapist!joel x f!reader

← masterlist

Summary: You’re finally ready to sit down and discuss your obvious daddy issues. Your therapist, Joel, has his methods. 

Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, abuse of position (therapist!joel), discussions of parental divorce, daddy issues, praise kink, daddy kink, pet names, cursing/swearing, age gap, handjob (for a lil bit?) unprotected p in v, cockwarming (if you squint?), breathplay (I’m running out of breath typing all this are we good to go?) 

A/N: this is my first fic wow how exciting, I can’t thank my new friends enough for the brainstorming and helping make it to tumblr so let’s just get on with it yeah? tell me if you want more, my requests are open x

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.   “So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.  He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist. 

“So what brings you here today?”

Your eyes shyly evade his, instead choosing to graze over the belongings of your new therapist’s office. It looked like a small library the way books were lined up and stacked on the shelves. The desk behind him was a dark oak, and everything had its place, not a pen out of line. After you deliberately ignore his question, he probes you again.

“It says on your intake form that you have... A distant relationship with your father due to your parents' divorce. Is that something you want to talk about with me today?”

His voice is sweet like honey, but you’re the only one dripping. You failed during your extended research on therapists to check his picture because you had no idea you signed up for someone so fucking handsome.

Your jaw was tight as you clamped your legs tighter together one draped over the other, trying to conceal your growing arousal. Talk, or he’ll think you’re mute!

“Yes.” You say, clearing your throat as you readjust your skirt over your lap, tugging at the hem.

You confide in Joel about the hardships of your parents growing up. The house was never quiet, always fighting, tearing each other down, and it just wasn’t healthy. You thought you’d thank the lord the day they filed for a divorce. You didn’t expect to lose the relationship you had with your father in the midst of it all.

You were still young, trying to grow up and learn, his absence mattered to you, even if it didn’t to your mother. He came around a lot at first. He’d pick you up from school and steal you away for a few hours, getting ice cream to celebrate your reunion with him.

But then, he got a new girlfriend. You weren’t sure how she managed to replace both you and your mother, but she did. You saw him less, he started not meeting your expectations. Soon, he became a weird distant memory. Now, as a young adult, you combat all the unjust things the wake of his departure caused. You couldn’t bear the thought of dating someone your age. Everyone was young and immature, asking for nudes over text after the first date if they even got your phone number at all. Now it was all just over social media or dating apps.

“Older men are just more... Refined. They have their priorities and goals, and they’re like... Actually accomplishing shit. Guys my age are just..” You paused, your eyes meeting his own to fill in the gaps.

“.. Not meeting your expectations?” Joel asked, his pen clutched in his hand as he scribbled something in his notepad.

“Right.” You let out breathily, your eyes falling to the chest hair you could see exposed by his button-up shirt.

This was a perfect example because look at Dr. Joel Miller! His Ph.D. decorated the wall with numerous other accolades on his shelves, so you knew he was smart. Being a therapist made him a good listener, you’d never have to feel like you were the therapist to a frat guy again.

You let out an involuntary whimper, a white-hot flash soaring through the pit of your stomach. You were dripping for him, and you could feel it against your clenched thighs.

“I know talking about these topics is difficult, but you’re doing a good job.” He praised you as you felt your chest and cheeks flush red with his attention.

Your breathing was staggered, you needed to release the tension between your legs desperately.

“You-- uhm, you think I’m doing a good job?”

His eyes flashed up to you with the question, something dark and tantalizing about the way he looked over you now. It was like a predator meeting prey the way his eyes began to rake over you.

Your arousal was obvious in the way your knee anxiously bounced up and down, continuing to readjust in your seat, begging for him to tell you that your time with him was up so you could go home and use your vibrator on your clit, thinking about Dr. Joel Miller between your legs.

You watched as he stood up from his chair across from you, your eyes tracking him as he nodded slowly. He clasped his hands behind his back, his strong biceps fighting the material of his shirt for dominance. The hand closest to you came down and did a delicate sweep around the rim of the chair you were sitting in.

“You’re doing great, baby girl.” He praised again, stopping to stand next to you. You were eye-level to his waist, your lips parting at the sight of the bulge in his pants. Oh, fuck me, so that’s what he’s been hiding behind his notepad.

His hand gently reached out to you, two straight fingers under your chin as he tilted you up to look at him. Your long eyelashes batted at him, teeth piercing down into your bottom lip. You let out an involuntary sigh as his hand moved up your cheek, bringing you in to rest against his thigh.

He was warm, and he smelled like Old Spice, god, you could swear it was the same one your dad used to use. You whimper at the thought, digging your face gently further into his protection. You felt his hand gently caress the back of your head, stroking back your hair from your face.

You wanted him, your pussy wanted him, and the throbbing need for his attention and affection was incurable. You began to press kisses into the material of his pants, losing all pride as you fell to your knees in front of him and palmed your hand over his growing erection.

You braved looking up at him, his face watching you in adoration, like he was proud of you.

“Is this what you want? I’ll do whatever you want.” You say meekly, desperate to please.

“You know what I think you need?” He asks, his voice dropped an octave, and it was making you purr. He was more sultry now, his hands finding yours and guiding you up off of the floor. You finally shake your head, your hands gently moving up his chest and feeling his toned pecs and broad shoulders.

Seeing him this close made your heart flutter. He was so handsome, so grown. His wispy curls were adorning the same salt and pepper as his beard. He had worn lines by his eyes and on his forehead, his curious mind must always be causing his brows to furrow. He had you breathless at the mouth and achingly wet down below.

“I think you need me to take care of you. Is that what you want, baby? Someone to show you how much they care about you? Someone to be where you need them most?” His strong hand is traveling down your front now, Joel’s pointer finger curling into the front of your skirt. Your lips part as he tugs so hard that you’re falling into him, your small hands clutching the landscape of his biceps.

“Yes-- fuck, please Joel, yes.” You nearly beg. Be there for me, be inside me.

He let out a heavy grunt of satisfaction, closing the distance between you as he cradled your face in his big hands and connected your lips. You felt safe, letting your walls fall down as he took care of you.

You melted in his hold, Joel’s tongue carefully gliding over your bottom one in a request for you to part yours for him. You followed his lead, a whimpering moan leaving you as you felt his tongue invade your mouth. He was moving you backward methodically until the back of your thighs hit the desk you previously admired. Your hips shook the frame, hearing pens and some papers clatter to the floor.

You felt overwhelmingly hot, you needed to shed some layers. Like the mind reader he was, Joel’s hands moved down to the hem of your top, breaking your heated kiss to discard the material in his way.

He generously cupped your breasts held away by your bra, another desperate moan leaving you as you watched him through hooded eyes admire your body. His hands were quick to settle on your hips, fingertips burning into your skin as he lifted you up onto the desk with ease. Fuck, he had the kind of strength that looked effortless.

Joel was taking charge, and it was so nice, he knew exactly what he wanted to do, and you didn’t have to worry about anything. His legs nudged your own open, cool air finally greeting your needy pussy. The sensation had your head falling back, accidentally breaking your kiss once more.

“Oooh, fuck,” you gasp, your head coming back up to watch as his hand disappeared under the drape of your skirt. Suddenly you felt him cup your aching mound, taking in a short breath at the feeling of finally getting some much-desired pressure down there.

“So fuckin’ wet… were you this wet during our whole session, kitten?” He asked. It was sick and twisted, you knew it was. That’s why you let out a shameful little nod, your legs wanting to clench around his hand there.

He let out a disgusted scoff, you deserved it. You wanted to fuck your therapist.

“You want daddy to take care of that for you with his cock?” His foul words had you at a loss of your own, your jaw slack as he pressed his hips into yours and you could feel his dick pressed right up against your pussy.

“Take daddy’s belt off.” He grumbled his orders, a quick nod leaving you. You didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“Yes, what?” His voice was stern and articulate, making you bend your will as his close proximity flooded your senses. You couldn’t find his belt soon enough. You popped the button of his jeans and nearly tore off the zipper at his ask.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, a greedy smile on your lips to see you earned his favor. He adoringly cupped one side of your cheek as both of your heads rested against one another’s to watch you pull down his dark briefs.

He let out a strained grunt at the release, his flesh going to slap against his tanned stomach. He was already unbuttoning his shirt as you made a fist around him, watching his face to see how he liked it. Too fast? A little slower? Too rough... You paused and spat down on him, your eyes darting back up to his as he let out a satisfied sigh. Let me do it perfectly for you, Joel.

“So good for me.” He purred, his thumb brushing down the slope of your nose and over your swollen bottom lip that you had bruised from biting down so hard on it. He pushed the tip of his thumb past your lips, the intrusion a surprise but you eagerly sucked to appease him. The action made him swell in your hand to fullness, even beginning to feel too heavy in your hand as you continued to work over him.

“Is this all for me?” You asked eagerly, a sweet smile gracing your face.

You watched as he leaned in, your eyelashes fluttering closed as he came to press his warm lips against the crown of your head. “All for you, baby girl.” He mumbled against your forehead.

“Oh,” you let out in a sweet surprised little moan, your hand working over him eagerly faster. You didn’t care if you got off at this point, as long as he did.

“Lie back, baby.” His voice was rocky like gravel, you could already see his chest heaving at the attention of your hands. You did as he asked, but not before he unclipped your bra so your tits were on full show for him.

You reached one of your hands back, already gripping the edge of the table as you braced yourself for him. He was so large, easily the largest you had ever been with. You wanted to feel every inch of man that he was inside of your throbbing cunt.

Your skirt was merely an obstacle in his way, watching him toss it up to show your lacey panties underneath. You bit down on your lip with a wide smirk on your face, he really liked the lace.

“So fuckin pretty,” he admired, your hands coming to rest over his own, your nails gently grazing down his forearms to his fingers. His pointer finger and thumb grazed over the soaked material, admiring how he could see your pretty pussy underneath it. The lace was so dainty and fragile in his hands, he could just--

You gasp as his large hands rip the delicate lace right open, a messy opening of broken threads but now, he had unlimited access to your sex. He was so strong, you hoped he would split you open the same way.

His hands took a grip on the tops of your parted thighs from the outside, taking one foul yank as you felt him press his cock between your wet folds. You were back to gripping and stroking over his forearms, your delicate hand coming up to feel his stubbled cheek.

“Joel please, I need you.” you whimpered out, his head nodding against yours as a few of the curlier strands on his head fell onto his forehead. He was so handsome when he was turned on.

Joel’s heavy huffs broke the eye contact of his cock gliding up and down your arousal, the slick lubing him perfectly. He was perfectly glazed over now, all because of you, his heavy thumb coming down to gently circle over your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry at the much-needed attention, your walls pulsing for him to fill you up.

“Joel!” You whined out in anticipation, your jaw dropping as he finally guided his tip to you without warning and slammed into your depths until he bottomed out in one thrust. His hand was quick to clamp over your mouth, stopping you from letting out a sobbing moan as tears started to swell at the brim of your eyes.

“Don’t want anyone to hear us, princess,” His voice was broken by grunts and loose breaths, his palm swallowing your hot high pitched whines. “Or else we’ll have to stop.” You did not want him to stop!

You quickly shook your head and clasped your wrist around his which kept your mouth shut. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you Joel. A tear slipped as you peppered apologetic kisses to the inside of his palm, your eyes desperately connecting with his in a silent ask for him to please continue fucking you.

Joel swiveled his hips back, his jeans clinging to his upper thighs as he rolled back into you. You couldn’t help but clench your eyes closed and let out a broken moan. He filled you up in all the best ways possible, he was perfect inside of you, every goddamn inch. You didn’t realize how loud you had gotten, his hand pushing your head down further into the desk and squeezing into your cheeks until you snapped out of it.

“What did fuckin’ tell you?” He punched out. God, you could feel him pulsating inside of your tight walls.

“God, this tight pussy feels so-- fuckin’ good.”

You moaned quietly at the compliment, a blissed-out smile on your lips still against his palm as he started a steady rhythm rocking into you.

You whimpered as the desk started to creak with each of his heavy thrusts, pinching your ass against the desk but he felt too good to complain. Sure, you’d have a red line imprinted on your cheeks, but hell, it was so worth it. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, little angel for me-- fuck,” he grunted as he used the hand wrapped around your mouth as leverage, holding your head down as his hips snapped into you mercilessly. You were crying out moans into his palm, but nothing loud ever left the room, just like he wanted.

Your hands are clenching at the desk now, desperate not to fly off. Through blurry eyes, you saw his face, tight and twisted as he admired the way your breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

You bravely reached up to take his hand around your mouth, shifting it down to wrap around your windpipe. You gave him an angelic little smile, biting down on your lower lip to hold in your dirty moans.

Joel watched you in awe, nodding with his sick little half-smirk as he started to squeeze at the sides of your throat. Fuck, he’s done this before, he knows exactly what he’s doing. The heightened experience turns you on, he’s not some 20-something idiot who cares only about getting his dick wet. Joel wants you to cum.

“You look at me baby.. fuck--, don’t break eye contact until you wanna breathe, darlin’.” His accent drawled in your ear and made your pussy even wetter for him. One of his hands squeezed at the sides of your delicate windpipe, his other hand snaking between you two as his electric fingers found your buzzing clit.

The attention was a lot, but you were a whore for it.

His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was pacing himself, Joel wants you to cum first.

You whimper at the idea of him putting you ahead of his own interested and needs, your head growing foggy as your wrist wrapped around his own that held you down but you didn’t look away from his amber eyes. He licked his lips in desire watching you, your lips parting for air as you finally looked away.

He followed through on his promise, his strong hands going lax as your head fell to the side, eyes closing in bliss while your pussy fluttered around his dick.

“Fuck baby girl,” he panted through a mumble as his spare hand massaged over your breasts. “Got me losin’ my goddamn mind.” He moaned something that resembled your name, pinching at your sensitive peaks until he had you whimpering.

“Joel I- oh god,” your stomach dropped as the tip of his dick massaged at your sweet spot, a cry threatening to spill from your lips but you knew he didn’t like you being too loud in his office so you hold it in, your cheeks going hot red.

It was all too much. Your foggy head, his hands on your sensitive bits, his fucking dick slamming into you. You felt so small in his hold, his body shielding you from the outside world as he drove you face-first into your earth-shattering orgasm.

“Joel-Joel please, fuck, I’m gonna-,” Your chin tilted up and your back arched, his hand instantly moving back up to your throat so you could feel even more floated during the crash of your orgasm.

“Cum for me princess. Cum for me now.” He demanded in a mumble.

It coursed through your body like an electric current, your body short-circuiting from the amount of pleasure it was receiving all at once.

Your lips were parted, but nothing came out. You couldn’t hear a thing, only Joel, only him as he ruts himself against your core and you feel him spill his hot cum into the depths of your sex. You lazily smirked as you made your walls flutter around him, your core pulsing. Could almost feel him in your belly.

His breaths were heavy, heavenly. It made your skin clammy, the both of you so fucked up that you were stuck in place. You didn’t realize it, but you had reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently gliding down the curve of his crooked nose. Your lips gently came together as your head came up, kissing the tip of his nose before going to lay back down on his desk.

“Oh, baby girl,” Joel purred in adoration, his mouth coming down to greet yours in a delicate kiss. “Did such a good job.” Both of you were so drunk on your orgasms, everything was so perfect.

You lazily kissed him back, your arms wrapping around the tops of his shoulders with your fingers lightly fisting the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him close as he softened inside of you. You could stay here like this forever.

You glanced over just in time, seeing the last grain of sand fall down in his glass sand timer. Your session with Dr. Joel Miller was over.

He helped you hop off his desk, your wobbly legs needing to find their strength again. His cum was already meeting the tops of your inner thighs, your face blushing at the feeling. You were quite literally gaping for him.

Joel cleared his throat and easily pulled his jeans back up to the top of his hips at his waist, securing his belt and zipper before he fisted your discarded, ripped apart panties.

“Oh,” you whispered a bit embarrassed at the sight of them. You had just finished pulling your shirt back onto your torso, stuffing your bra inside your purse. No way you were going to try and put that thing back on. You reached out for him to hand them over, your eyes widening as he pulled his hand away and stuffed them into his pocket.

“For safe keeping…” He trailed off, his eyes still dark as they looked down at your wide ones. Well, you weren’t getting those back any time soon. They were his now, your torn to threads black lace panties. You nodded and weakly smiled, still trying to catch your breath.

Joel walked you out, tapping his absentminded secretary’s desk to tell her to find something in both of your calendars for a future date.

“I think I can really help you work this out.” He told you on your way out.

As you left his office, you felt like everyone knew what you had just done. But for now, it was just a secret for you and your therapist, Joel.

---------------- taglist: let's be fr lol If you liked talk me down, check out pretty little thing!

#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #therapist joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR

Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.

“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.

His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.

He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.

Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?

As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.

“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?

Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.

“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”

Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.

Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.

“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.

My Dearest Lucifer

His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer

“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.

My Dearest, Lucifer

       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.

“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).

“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.

“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?

Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.

Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.

How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.

But now...

Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.

Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.

“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.

Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.

He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.

[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.

Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.

Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.

“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.

A bit of a timeskip....

It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.

Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.

“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.

“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”

[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.

Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”

[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”

Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”

“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.

“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.

“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.

“That's it, you've crossed the line!”

“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”

You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.

Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.

After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.

I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.

Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.

[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.

Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.

Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.

I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.

I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.

Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?

For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.

Terrifying.

[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.

“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.

Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.

It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.

She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.

END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE

TAGLIST:

@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar #“MLIMAM” — LUCIFER X READER

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.

I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.

In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.

In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.

I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.

I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.

I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.

I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.

Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.

I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.

These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.

I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.

I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.

Yours,

Taylor

#taylor swift #speak now (taylor’s version) #speak now tv #sntv prologue #speak now taylor’s version #sntv

[neo-nomatrix]

Drunk words are sober thoughts

Hobie Brown x reader

Part three of the My Nuisance mini series. Find the other parts here

word count: 959

Synopsis: Hobie forgets everything he told you last night. Thank you @good-so for the inspo!!

When you woke up Hobie was gone. You were surprised you didn’t hear his obnoxious boot buckles clicking when he left. In fact you were surprised he left at all. He basically confessed his love and the fact he was Spiderman to you last night.

You needed time to process everything, make sure none of it was a fever dream. As soon as you woke up (and gathered your thoughts) you trudged over to Hobies flat. You knocked on the door similar to how Hobie always did, part of you was angry that he had left you but you would rather die than let him know he got to you.

“Hobie? You in there?!” You yell pressing your ear against the door.

As you lean into the door it opens up, he had left the door unlocked and didn’t even fully close it. You stepped into the rather dark flat and admired the decorations. He had a way of making everything look like a punk rock magazine, despite the chaos it was cleaner than you had anticipated. You searched throughout the flat trying to find him but it was clear he wasn’t there.

Eventually you came across a small box decorated with photos of the London bridge and bright colors. You didn’t mean to snoop around, really, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Inside were five things: three letters, a ring, and a necklace. You had recognized the ring and necklace, they were yours. You had lost both of them by mistake about a week ago but assumed they were long gone. As you thought about it more you realized something like that happened often, you would lose something of yours and a week later they would up outside of your door with a note attached to it.

Usually saying “You’re quite clumsy, love - Hobie”

It hadn’t occurred to you why he had found so many of your things until now.

You looked at one of the letters, and sure enough it said “You just keep losing stuff don’t you? Good thing i’m here to save the day -Hobie” You smile to yourself thinking about the fact that he would probably give you this tomorrow.

The second letter was from you. The first time you had ever told him to turn down his music. As you read it you realized how much you had changed from the first time you met him. You were so polite in the letter, the fact you had taped a letter to his door instead of screaming at him was polite in itself. After that first letter you don’t think you have ever said “please” and “thank you.” From then on it was mostly you stomping over to his flat and yelling while he stood there amused.

The last letter was addressed to you. And it was double sided, either this boy has a lot of baggage or he was really in love with you. You felt awful reading it though. You started at the first words for a while “For my Love,” until the lights switched on.

“You’re breaking into my house now? That’s cheeky init?” He smirked. God he is so stupid, and what British person actually says init?

“The door was open. I was… just checking to see no one like a robber had broken in,” you replied.

“Right, and you also wanted to make sure that box wasn’t broken into?” he replied.

You immediately set it down.

“I haven’t read any of it, promise,” you smiled

“Yet, you haven't read any of it yet,” he finished for you.

“So, about last night?” you bring up. Hoping he’ll want to talk about it.

“Right… uhm, i don’t really remember any of it? So whatever i said don’t pay any attention. I’m a compulsive liar when I get wasted,” he shrugs.

Oh. He didn’t remember anything he said. And he’s also a dunk liar. Cute. You were still slightly convinced he’s spiderman, though. He showed you the suit and the mask, which weren’t exactly replicas to your knowledge. And trust, you knew your spiderman suit replicas. But the other stuff?

The stuff about you hurting his feelings and him being in love with you? Yeah, you were almost one hundred percent sure those were lies. You don’t know why you were convinced with one but not the other. You just did.

“Yeah, of course,” you looked sad.

“But I should get going,” you said after a moment of silence.

“Right, we’ll uhm, see you,” he said.

You nodded before looking down at the ground, walking off without being able to look into his eyes.

You shut the door to your flat faster than you ever have before.

“Oh my lord,” you whispered to yourself.

Gods, if that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. You didn’t even know what you were thinking, you had to be mental, right? Going into Hobies flat while he wasn’t around? And he caught you? You could never show your face again.

While you’re in your flat panicking your mind out, Hobie is filled with anxiety. He’s racking his brain trying to remember what happened last night and why he woke up in your bed. Did he say something horrible? Did he confess his deepest secrets to you? The answer was yes, but he didn’t know that yet. He only left early because Miguel had pinged his watch with some stupid mission.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake,” or something like that.

He knew he had to talk to you again. Picking up the box he pulled out the ring. Admiring the way it glimmered in the fluorescent lights.

Throwing away the note that came with it, he knew exactly how to start a conversation.

Taglist!! @clown420cunt @good-so @anonima-2 @gh0stsp1d3r @miracleboylene @natthernandez @frenchbaddie @loislucky @juo6uvr @gaychaosgremlin @skiedrr @the-golden-goldie @hellok1ttycake @theleftkittycollection @xbl00dy-r0s3x @diamondroxypie

#hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderpunk x y/n #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #marvel x reader #hobie brown #spiderman x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv x you

[lev1hei1chou]

First Day

Dad!Gojo x Mom!reader Genre: Fluff Words: 600 Synopsis: Your child's first day at preschool Masterlist

It was a bright and sunny morning as you and Satoru Gojo got ready for your child's first day at preschool. The air was filled with nervousness and excitement, both for you and the little one. They were about to embark on a whole new adventure afterall.

As you helped your child put on their tiny shoes, Gojo couldn't help but wear a proud smile on his face. His hair was as unruly as ever, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and mischief. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your child's head.

"Are you ready for your big day, little champ?" Gojo teased, ruffling their hair with affection.

Your child beamed up at their father, nodding eagerly. "Yes, Daddy! I'm gonna make lots of friends!"

Gojo chuckled, shooting you a glance filled with pride. "That's the spirit! You're going to be the coolest kid in preschool."

With bags packed, snacks ready, and tiny fingers tightly gripping onto both of your hands, you made your way to the preschool.

The building was decorated with vibrant colors, with laughter and the loud sounds of children playing echoing from within. As you entered the classroom, your child's eyes widened with awe.

The preschool teacher, a cheerful woman with a warm smile, welcomed you all. "Hello there! You must be the new student. We're so excited to have you join us today!"

The classroom was filled with colorful posters, small tables, and chairs perfectly sized for little ones. Toys were scattered around, and the walls were adorned with artwork created by previous classes. Your child's eyes lit up as they observed the room with enthusiasm.

As you helped your child settle into their seat, Gojo couldn't resist snapping a few pictures to commemorate the moment. He was beaming with pride and affection. He had to capture every smile and excited expression on your child's face. This was too important.

After a few reassuring words, you and Gojo finally said your goodbyes. Your child hugged you tightly, and Gojo bent down to their level, planting a soft kiss on their forehead. "Be the amazing kid I know you are, alright? Mom and Dad will be waiting for you right here when you're done."

With one last wave, you left the classroom, trying to hide the bittersweet emotions bubbling within you. You could feel the tears build up in your eyes. As you strolled through the empty hallways, Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulder, offering comfort.

"They'll be just fine, you know," he reassured, his confident demeanor never wavering.

You nodded, smiling through the mix of emotions. "I know, but it's hard to believe how fast they're growing up."

The day felt both endless and fleeting at the same time as you both eagerly awaited your child's return. When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the preschool day, you both rushed to the classroom.

As the door opened, your child emerged, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration on their face. The moment they spotted you, their eyes lit up, and they practically flew into your arms. Gojo grinned, scooping them up effortlessly.

"How was your first day?" you asked, hugging them tightly.

"It was amazing, Mommy! I made lots of friends, and the teacher read us a story," they exclaimed, their excitement contagious.

Gojo chuckled, swinging them playfully. "See, I told you it would be a blast!"

With your child chattering excitedly about their day, you walked out of the preschool hand in hand. Gojo couldn't have been prouder, and neither could you.

#Dad!gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo #satoru gojo #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #jjk satoru #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk

[bcyhoods]

WITH FIREWORKS! STEVE

synopsis : after a date at the carnival, steve gives you your first kiss! (prompt: “was that your first kiss?”)

word count : 1.6k

author’s note : repost from my old blog! i fixed her up a little bit, endured changing past to present tense just for you so….

“Those games were totally rigged,” Steve huffs as he prods at the small teddy bear clutched in his hands.

You’re situated on the hood of his car, smiley lips tinged blue thanks to the half-eaten cone of cotton candy in your hands. Steve stands in between your legs with a pout as his free hand rests beside your thigh, finger itching to graze your skin as it taps the metal of his car. The summer sun has just dipped below the horizon, but his face is illuminated by the multicolored lights of the fair behind you. Even with a sullen attitude, he just looks so pretty.

It was only your third official date — excluding the weekly, hour-long visits to Family Video, which Robin made sure to tease him for — and Steve figured it was time to rattle his feathers, so to speak. He wanted to impress you by showing off his athleticism, and carnival games provided an exemplary opportunity to do just that.

He envisioned your arms full and occupied by the array of giant prizes he won for you. You’d watch with an endearing grin on your face every time he beat a game. The night would end with your arms thrown around his shoulders and the perfect kiss that had you both swooning.

With fireworks in the background, obviously.

But luck had strayed far away from Steve Harrington’s side. Far, far away.

“Oh, they were, were they?”

“Definitely. ‘You can only throw it with an underhand,’” Steve mocks the game attendant with a husky voice — a terrible impression, really, but he knew it’d make you laugh. “That’s a made up rule. For sure. I’ve never heard that rule before. Ridiculous.”

The boy sighs defeatedly, letting you take the bear from his hand before running his fingers through his, now disheveled hair. The brown locks had endured the torment throughout the night as he increasingly became more and more stressed. And he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, it felt entirely dramatic and silly. But he was, and the way he avoided your gaze while his teeth worried his bottom lip was enough of a tell.

He laughs meekly at himself and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I was trying so hard to win one of those gigantic bears — too hard.”

You hum as your eyes scan over the stuffie. It was no bigger than the length of your hand. Its body was stiff and straight and a tuft of cotton spilled out from under its right arm due to a couple frayed stitches. The ribbon around its neck was barely being held together with a glob of hot glue.

“I like this one, it’s cute.” At his scoff, you double down, “I’m serious! It’s got a lot of charm to it. It’s perfect.”

You move your attention from the bear to Steve only to find that he’s already looking at you. His gaze is incredibly soft, smile lines decorating the corners of his lips as his tongue is coyly tucked into his cheek. His eyes are brimming with love, you think you might burst the longer they’re on you. He finally lets himself graze the skin of your thighs as a subtle thank you. The attention was all-consuming, it made it hard for you to focus. It was hard to do much of anything really, with him looking at you like that.

Quickly, you clear your throat and look up into the sky in abrupt thought. “I think I’m going to name him…Eve.”

“Eve? Eve the bear?”

“Mmhmm,” you affirm with the wave of the cotton candy, “Eve ‘The Bear’ Bearington.”

A huff resembling a short laugh leaves his mouth as he drops his chin down. Lowly, he mutters, “You’re unbelievable,” before looking up at you again with a doting grin. He moves to shake the bear’s hand gingerly, holding it between his thumb and his index, and bowing his head.

“Nice to meet you, Eve. You’re looking a little rough, bud. Bad hangover?”

You scoff and protectively pull Eve into your chest as if it were a child. The chuckle that reverberates through his chest encourages your heart to dither as heat rises to the tips of your ears. “That was very rude, Harrington,” you reply, feigning shock while trying to fight off the smile creeping onto your lips. It doesn’t work.

“What? No, Eve didn’t think it was rude. I’ve been there before, I’m sure he appreciates my empathy,” Steve argues, eyes momentarily flitting to the cotton candy that sat untouched in your hand for the past few minutes. As he nonchalantly stretches his hand out to pull a piece of the sweet, you move your arm out of his reach.

He glares at you with a tilt of his head. You raise your eyebrows to challenge him.

“Bullies don’t get sweets.”

A small gasp emanates from him before his lips are twisting into an impish lopsided smile. He tsk’s and takes a small step back. “Well, that’s too bad…because it just tastes so,” he looks away innocently, “…much,” he pauses.

”…Better!” He lunges forward earning a yelp from you as one arm wraps around your waist while the other moves to grab at the cotton candy. His fingers curl into your sides, eliciting a fit of laughs and giggles to fall clumsily from your sugar-coated tongue which makes it that much harder to fight against him.

Albeit, you don’t cease, pushing against his shoulder and still trying to stretch your arm as far away from him as possible. But it was no use as he slightly lifted you up off the car for just a moment to pull you flush against him. Your legs reflexively wrap around his hips and once you drop the bear, your unoccupied hand grips a handful of his polo for stability. The action had taken you by surprise, being too distracted to push him away when he ducks his head down to take a bite of the candy floss.

“Yup, just as I thought. Ten times better,” he preaches, letting it dissolve on his tongue to savor the flavor.

You’re sure you look a mess. Your eyes must be glazed over complimented by your lips still parted in shock. Your chest is rising and falling in a quick, inconsistent pattern as you try to collect yourself. Again, Steve has thrown your train of thought completely off course.

“You suck,” you manage to say. It was a lame attempt at an insult. But the words were practically dripping with adoration, all he could do was smile.

“Yeah?”

You nod meekly.

You’re certain he can feel your heart thumping wildly against your ribcage, certain that even through the background carnival noises and both your uneven breaths, he could hear it, as well.

And despite being so sure of your dumbfounded expression, Steve thought you looked so beautiful like this. In disarray, your sweater fell off your shoulders to hang loosely on your arms and your hand is holding his shirt so tightly like it was a lifeline. His eyes dart to your lips to trace over your cupid’s bow before glancing back up to find your eyes.

And you thought he looked just as pretty. His nearness was entirely disorienting. You could smell the saccharine hint of stolen cotton candy mingled with his ever-prized Calvin Klein cologne. His hair had fallen handsomely over his forehead. The moles and freckles scattered across his face are more fascinating than ever as you count them until you reach his lips. How soft and inviting they looked.

You’re so completely enamored, you don’t even register when he leans in, brushing his lips against your own in a feather-light kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat and before you can even bring yourself back down to earth, he begins to pull away.

“Sorry, I thought…”

He moves to step away from you, but your legs tighten around him to keep him in place as your fingers wrap around the wrist on your waist.

“No! I’m sorry, I…it was nice, it’s just I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…” You swallow down a lump in your throat as you feel your eyes start to water.

The second you glance up to gauge his reaction, you regret it. You watch his eyes widen in realization and feel his grip on your waist go slack. Hiding your face behind clammy hands, you groan and drop your head to his shoulder. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Was that your first kiss?”

You nod timidly, dragging your hands down to your lap to wring out your fingers, your gaze immediately following. And Steve is not malicious, he’d never laugh at you, but you feel just a little mortified that you froze up.

“Hey,” he cooed, delicately cupping your cheek and lifting your head. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.” The words are hushed and soft, a sweet reassurance that causes your insides to melt.

“Was it…was it good?” he asks.

The question makes you giggle, “I dunno, I didn’t really get a chance to return the favor.”

He nods, the beginnings of a wide smile slowly making its way onto his blushing face. “Right…do you maybe, wanna try again?”

You mirror his expression before you’re the one leaning in this time, a kiss that he reciprocates feverishly. His lips slot against your own as his arm tightens around your waist once more. Your fingers dip into hair and he hums against you at the feeling before pulling away.

You giggle at the dazed look on his face and his kiss-bitten lips.

“How was that one?” he asks, eyes shamelessly journeying over your face.

“It was perfect.”

#the return of eve ‘the bear’ bearington!! #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things #joe keery

[writingmeraki]

here and now.

a kim mingyu drabble !

pairing : secret!agent!mingyu x secret!agent!reader, established relationship ( they are married )

genre : angsty with fluff :)

warnings : reader is pretty miserable, cussing, cheol is mean but annoying mean, petnames, kissing, unhealthy routines.

author's note : ohhh i can't let go of these two, i rlly jst like this au a lot lol, i wonder if you would want more set in this same au, lmk hehe :) hope you like this !! but also the fact that i have other wips but i can't get this specific couple out of my head ???? very self indulgent bcoz tell me why i want this mingyu with me rn. also third work this month...let's hope we keep balling like that!!!

set in the SAME universe as this !

word count : 1.6k

The world was miserable.

You wanted to curl up in a ball and just lay in your bed, sleeping until you could no longer differentiate between reality and dreamland.

But alas, you couldn’t. As an agent, sleep to you was like a reward. One would think a need should never be something you get once in a while but, your job was practically making all your essentials feel like rewards. 

Mayhaps not the healthiest, but you were already used to it and your body as well, so you were not truly affected when you couldn’t get any of your essentials. 

Though, you were sure the world felt more miserable because you hadn’t seen him in so long.

Kim Mingyu, the man you married. Your husband.Your other half, your other puzzle piece, your other- you get the point. Six months, twelve days, and ten hours since you last saw him. 

He was gone on a mission that was supposed to take no less than a month, but who were you kidding? Who was your boss kidding? Top priority missions always took up time. 

The thing that still pisses you off is why you weren’t allowed to go with him. 

Apparently, you were needed back in Seoul and not there was the bullshit reason. You spent enough time being annoyed and angry at that, now you just felt terribly upset. Upset without him in your life physically, sure virtually he was one message away, but being on the complete opposite side of the globe also meant time zones were a pain in the ass.

Sighing, you made your way into the tall building disguised as one of the offices but it was where your agency was. You held a cup of coffee, that was just as bitter as your mood, in fact you didn’t even like coffee, but today you felt no point in trying to uplift your mood because the only thing that would was a certain person who you were not even sure when you’d meet. 

It was not you who felt this way, in fact Mingyu was probably feeling worse. Having been someone whose love language was physical affection, it did not feel the same through a fucking screen. He was ready to quit actually, three months into it because he terribly wanted to see you, but you convinced him he’d be back sooner if he finished it. 

You knew you were lying to him and yourself, but you had no choice. This was your duty right? 

The boss’ office was still as peculiar as he was, never failing to amuse you whenever you’d enter and always finding new collections or items decorating it. Today, you saw an art piece that was of the sun and the moon. 

Everything reminded you of him. He was your sun, even your moon too. 

You frowned more at the thought, wondering how the heck were you not able to not think of him for a few minutes. Then again, perhaps being together for more than a decade would do the trick. You’re practically bound permanently by that point. 

Sitting down on the cushion chair in front of Seungcheol, you didn’t even bother greeting him, still in thoughts until you heard a chuckle from in front of you. 

“What’s funny?”

“You look extra miserable today.” 

You glared at the man, annoyance changing into anger with retorts about how he’d feel if he was kept away from his partner for this long, considering he was someone who was pretty boastful about his partner. 

“But- I did not call you for that. I have a special mission for you. And no, I don’t have any updates on Mingyu.”

You groaned at his words, considering what he said was just getting worse and worse as he spoke. 

“For this though, you’ll have someone with you. You’ll be needing another person to complete this task. They should be arriving in a few minutes.” 

“Please don’t be a rookie, I don’t have the patience to deal with one, not right now.” You figured you couldn’t not do it. It was your job after all. But perhaps he’d be a little considerate. 

“Oh don’t worry, I think they are pretty experienced, maybe even more than you.” He grinned but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what he meant. His eyes gleamed with something you couldn’t tell. 

“Just say you hate me, Cheol. It’s easier.” You bitterly spat out, taking a sip of the now cold coffee and frowning in distaste. It seemed it was up to par with your state. 

You leaned back, looking at the watch on your wrist, seeing it’s been a few minutes already and wondering just how long this person would take. 

You tried to pinpoint who it possibly was, but you were never good with names of people you might have seen in passing. That was more of Mingyu’s thing, he always remembered the forgettable things. 

The sound of the door opening was what made you perk up. You sat a little straighter, feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t make it outwardly obvious to the entire population how you were truly feeling. 

Seeing the chair pull, you didn’t bother looking besides you, feeling that seeing them from the corner of your eye was enough. They were a little further from you, but you could tell they were quite…large? They were wearing a cap and a mask, practically their entire body was covered with a black coat. It was suspicious and you just wondered if this was just an excuse for Seungcheol to have you murdered in a discreet way. 

Seokmin…? No, he's almost my height, probably Chan? 

You didn’t even realise the person had taken your coffee, pulled off their mask,took a sip of it and almost spat it out. 

“Baby this is actually so disgusting, since when did you drink this?” 

Wait.

You recognised that voice. 

He kept the cup back down on the table in front of you, wearing that very very familiar ring on his left ring finger. 

You think your brain short circuited at that very moment. 

Now you knew why Seungcheol had a sly grin. 

The fucker planned this. 

In all his glory, Kim Mingyu sat beside you, now seeing no point in wearing the cap, he tossed it off and threw it on the table. He shuffled his hair, which was now longer than you last saw it.

“Missed me?” He had the audacity to say that with his stupid canines peaking out, wearing that stupid grin that made you feel giddy all over and the stupid glint in his eyes that shone as he took you in.

Stupid, stupid, stupid Mingyu for making you feel like throwing up in all mixes of emotions. 

So in the mix of it, you just remained frozen. Eyes blank, nothing on your face physically to indicate any emotion. 

“I’ll leave you two…just don’t do…stuff.” Seungcheol retorted and your hands itched to strangle him. 

Before you could even comprehend you were now alone, you felt your chair being pulled to face him. Your mind still in disbelief and conflict.

“Hi.” He spoke gently, his hands now reaching towards yours and grasping them. It had been way too long since he smelt your signature perfume, held your hands in his with the same intensity, felt your touch. He thinks he might just die in peace now. 

“I’m just trying to figure out if I’m dreaming.” You murmured as you blinked slowly at him, still unmoving even though he now was bent down and closer to you.

The grin on his face widened as he leaned in, and next thing you know, you felt his lips on yours. 

Familiar…just like…home. 

He pulled back, still smiling as he softly laughed, “Real enough, darling?”

Mingyu wasn’t someone who was caught off-guard easily but he was the moment you launched forward and wrapped your arms around him. He yelped as he held you, surprisingly not toppling over.

You didn’t even grasp you were full on sobbing at that point, your entire body shaking and held you even more tightly. He stood up, one arm around your waist and the other gently rubbing your back. 

“I’m here now, I’m here.” He whispered softly as his hand caressed your hair, you moved your arms to wrap them over his shoulder as you placed your head in the crook of his neck. 

“i-i really-” missed you. I felt incomplete without you. I just…I really missed you. I really fucking love you.

You wanted to say as cheesy as it may have sounded, but cheesiness be darned you couldn’t hold back, not when the time apart made you realise that it didn’t matter if it was just another way of showing your love for him. You also realised Kim Mingyu deserved all possible ways of showing your love for him.

“I know, ‘s okay baby, I know.” You only sobbed harder as you pulled back, not caring how you looked, probably a whole mess with red eyes and tears all over, his arms were still around you as you held his face with both hands. 

He was there. You thought as you caressed his cheeks. He was there. You thought as he looked at you like he’d finally found his treasure,eyes twinkling, smiling at you.

And he was there, right there, with you as you tilted your head up, closing your eyes and placing your lips on his. 

Because no matter what or how long, Kim Mingyu would always find his way back to you, his other forever half. 

And oh, you’d make sure he was never apart from you from then on. Not even for a day. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

links : main navi ! | svt masterlist !

#[ pri works ] #mingyu x reader #svt #svt fic #svt mingyu #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt reactions #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #mingyu x y/n #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

[victoria-grimesss]

Nightmare

masterlist

->Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem!Reader

->Words: 2.2K

->Warning: MDNI!! pre-established relationship, angst, death, smut, PinV , oral fem!receiving.

->Summary: A particularly bad nightmare scars Ghost. He draws you closer as you help piece him back together.

Simon got nightmares a lot. They were frequent and usually contained the same things, nightmarish battlefield conditions that would shake anyone to their core. He would wake up in a cold sweat, the sheets clinging to him uncomfortably. His bed would be empty until he had met you.

You changed his life, the good parts and the bad.

You were like a little ray of sunshine that brightened his life. His walls in his home were blank and barren, he never cared enough to decorate. But you brought paintings of beautiful landscapes and fresh plants dotted the surfaces of the tables.

Each morning the smell of coffee and tea would grace the air and you would draw the curtains, allowing fresh air and light into the home. He would find you and wrap his arms around your waist, two mugs side by side one of each of your preferred drinks. You always made his just right.

He would kiss your neck and his hands would travel from your hips down your thighs and all the way back up to cup your breasts. He loved how soft you felt under his hands, how willing you were for his touch. He would drag you back to bed, or if he's incredibly impatient he would have his way with you on the kitchen counter.

Simon is a gracious and giving lover, he would spend hours between your thighs, he would practically get off on getting you off. He would hold your legs open and get drunk off of your taste.

He was truly home when he was with you, when he is with you.

---

He had a particularly bad nightmare one night, tourtorous.

He was scouring the battlefield, there were bodies and blood everywhere. This was a shit mission and he knew it. Felt it in his gut but no one listened. No one let you sit it out either.

He yelled your name, tripping on rubble that was still hot from the explosion. The sky was orange and dust coated the ground, heatwaves visible in the horizon. It was so hot and muggy, his mask was stuck to him.

You were here somewhere and he would die finding you if he had to, he couldn't leave you. The coms cracked to life calling him back to retreat but he didn't listen. They told him to leave you, you were gone but he didn't listen.

He heard a shifting in the rubble, a moan and the sound of gear moving.

"Y/N?"

"Simon, over here."

Your voice was harsh, dust coating your throat and a nasty knock to your head making it hard to see straight.

He stumbled over a large slab of concreate and collapsed at your feet, a sizable piece of concreate staircase was on your leg and he looked you over frantically, his eyes blown wide with your state.

"Are you hurt?"

He almost laughed if he could right now, you're pinned under a rock, now dry blood coating your arm and neck and you ask if he's ok.

"Yea I'm alright love. Let's get you home ok?"

"I can't feel my leg Simon, I can't walk you have to go."

He's furious, mad that this mission was allowed to happen with how dodgy it was.

"Like fucking hell I'll leave you here, I'll carry you if I have to."

He manages to just lift it enough to scoot your leg out of from under and it was sight. Crushed to all hell, bent in places it shouldn't be and it made him sick to see you like this.

"They're going to have to cut it off huh." You huff a laugh, obviously trying to deflect the severity of the situation.

"Probably. You'll get some hefty chest candy though and you'll get a nice vacation alright. I'll be there right with ya."

He lifts you into his arms, taking care not to move your leg too much, the wince that coats your face hurts him.

The walk is brutal, downed soldiers surround him for miles and the evac chopper just seemed to get further the closer he got like some sick joke.

Then a bang sounded, almost from thin air and he's frantically checking around him, he's stood on top of a large slab of displaced highway, the landscape stretches for miles and the sun is so hot and he's exposed.

"Simon."

He looks down at you and his breathing stops at the sight of fresh blood blooming from your chest, you cough and it comes from your mouth.

No. no. god please no, not you.

He puts his hand on your wound and applies pressure, he drops to his knees, and you grip his arm, the pain making you cry out and tears bloom in his eyes.

"You're alright love, I've got you. Just- just stay awake for me yea?"

The contrast from the sweat in his mask mixing with his tears make his skin burn and he rips his mask off to breath because he can't. breath. You're dying in his arms and he can't breath.

"I love you so much Simon. So, fucking much." You cough and more blood seeps from your mouth as you speak.

"Don't fucking say that you're not dying here alright not like this. You deserve better."

"You're a good man Simon."

He's crying now, the black paint on his face smudging and he kisses your forehead and then your lips, he feels you draw your last breath on his lips and exhale into him, he inhales your last breath and it hits him then.

"Y/N?"

"Love?"

He brushes the sticky hair from your face, your eyes are void of any life. He wants to pluck your soul from wherever it has travelled and put it back into you. Bring you back to him and cease the pain he feels, the pain that will always be there now.

He grips you tightly in his arms, rocking your body, your hand that gripped his arms falls limply to your side and he draws it back to him holding you as close as he can.

"Please don't do this. Don't leave please love I need you; I can't do this without you." He gasps because he still can't breathe.

His name dances in the air, once then twice. Like your spirit is calling to him.

Then he breaths.

He sits up fully in the bed, gasping and heart racing.

Your hand is on his chest, your eyes wide as you try to soothe him.

"It's ok, you're alright. You're safe at home."

His arms are around you; he embraces you in a crushing hug, his hand wraps into your hair as he inhales you shampoo. His other hand grips the small of your back holding you as close as he can.

"It was you. You died. Felt so fucking real."

"Oh Simon. I'm alright, see everything is ok."

You sit there for a while holding one another, until tears are dried and hearts are calmed.

Eventually Simon's hands move to brush the hair away from your neck and his lips place soft kisses and bites into the skin, relishing in your soft sighs.

"I really thought you were gone. Thought I'd never get to hold you like this again, touch you again."

He strips you of the sleep shirt you wear and cups your breast, kneading the soft skin in his palm.

"Never get to have you underneath me again."

Your breathing has picked up and you grip at his shoulder, still slightly sticky from the sweat but the way the light from outside hits him makes him out to be some kind of Greek stature carved from stone.

You're moved underneath him and he continues kissing you from jawline down to your chest where he takes one nipple into his mouth, holding the other one in his hand.

Your hands run through his short hair, lip in-between your teeth as you watch him.

"Simon, please."

"None of that tonight. I'm going to take my time on you, just lay back and let me have you."

Your hips try to buck from under him but his abdomen hold you steady. A hand snakes it's way down to your hips and his hand finds itself under the waistband, gripping the skin and flesh like his life depends on it. Like if he doesn't grip you hard enough you'll die.

As he kisses down your stomach he slides the panties down your legs at an agonizingly slow rate and you yearn to just grab him and bring him back up to you.

He throws the panties over his shoulder and kisses from your ankle back up to your inner thigh. He nips and sucks at each side, he kisses right around where you need him and he smirks are your impatience.

"Look at you, fuck. You're soaked. You want something?"

"Yes, fuck just hurry up."

"What was that? Didn't quite hear you right."

He's just awful when he takes things slow. You groan.

"Simon please."

"One more time, say it again."

"Simon please, god please just use your mouth."

"Atta girl."

He licks a long hot strip from bottom to top and you throw your head back. He moans into you, the vibration aiding in your arousal as you grow wetter and wetter.

"You always taste so good, you know that. Can never get enough of this."

He sucks and licks and your hands are woven into his hair pulling and pushing.

His hands are wrapped about your legs and you can't keep still so he wraps his hands around your hips holding you closer to his face and keeping your hips steady.

"Cmon, I can feel you getting closer, c'mon pretty girl go ahead."

Your breathing is so fast and you moan and thrash in his grip but he's got you locked down. The view you have is ungodly hot. His big arms wrapped around you, his mouth making noises against you that make you clench around nothing. And his back is exposed, the muscles highlighted by the moonlight, they flex and you plead for him to just fuck you already.

"Cum on my face and I'll fuck you, just give me this one and I'll seat myself deep inside you, need you soaked so you can take me all the way."

His words spur you on and you coat and grind on his face, he welcomes it and grips your hips tighter letting you ride your high and use him. He kisses his way back up and you taste yourself on his lips, he holds you face in both hands and holds you until you're both out of breath.

"Can you pretty please fuck me now." You whisper into this mouth, he shivers, his pupils blown wide.

"You ask so nicely how can I say no." His mouth meets yours deeply and he rips himself of his briefs and holds himself against your entrance, your wetness being more than enough to aid his entrance.

You gasp and he groans as he enters you, every inch feeling hot and hard as his mouth leaves blooming purple bruises on your neck.

He sits for a minute just holding himself fully inside you and enjoying how warm you are wrapped around him.

"So tight around me. I'll never get tired of fucking you. You're so beautiful underneath me."

He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses your cheek. Your arms wrap around his neck and his movements are slow. He's methodical with his hips, he moves out slowly almost all the way just leaving the tip in until he thrust back in just as slow.

His arms cage you in and all you can see is him, you smell him, you hear him, and you feel him. With eyes locked he expresses all of his love for you in his movements. A lot of the time your join sessions are loud and fast but this one. This one is different. So full of love and passion. He's replacing that nightmare of you dying with you underneath him filled to the brim with him.

"Do you want to get married?"

You clench around him and he smiles, you're stunned by his question.

"Simon- are you proposing right now?" Your words shake as you slowly approach the peak.

"No. Just asking if it's something you want to do. Would you want to marry me?"

You grip his hair just a bit tighter.

"I do."

"Yeah? Yeah, I'd marry you too. Show everyone you're mine forever. Put a pretty ring on your finger so you can show it off."

You clench around him again and his pace quickens just a bit.

"Keep you safe, call you my wife. My pretty wife. You want that?"

You're reaching your climax and claw at his scalp.

"Yes Simon, please."

"Cum on my cock and I'll marry you. Be a good girl."

You both reach the end at the same time, stars and tension gripping you until you both grow slack and his full weight is on you.

Your hands run through his hair and you scratch softly at his neck and back, soothing him as you did when he woke up.

"Did you mean that?" You voice is just a whisper but it is heard over his ragged breathing.

"I saw you die. It won't happen again, not until we're both old as hell. And when you die you'll die my wife. I don't plan to drag it out any longer."

You smile and kiss his cheek, he holds you and finally he dreams of something better.

#cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod smut #mw2 smut #ghost mw2 #simon riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost x you #cod fic #angst #simon riley fanfic #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley angst

[buckysgrace]

Gimme steve being desperate and pathetic and missing the taste of pussy so badly that he begs for it 🩷🩷🩷🩷

This is nasty and so awful but Steve is at his rock bottom dying for the taste of pussy he can't help himself

Steve Harrington x Bi!Reader

Steve is going through a dry spell and seeks out pleasure in the one person he shouldn't. Robin's girlfriend. (im so sorry Robin ily)

CW: Phew, fem receiving oral sex, spitting, unprotected p in v sex, slight bulge kink, cheating, steve begs a lot but reader wants it just as bad!!

He was sure that he was losing his mind.

He'd tried everything. Bad date after bad date. Shitty, expensive pornos that he'd jerked himself off to until his dick was raw and sore. It was like he was broken. He couldn't cum.

It had been an accident the first time it had happened. He had finished his shift early and had grand plans on returning home and trying to jerk off in the shower again.

He had roughly stumbled in through the front door, not even able to announce his arrival before his heart stalled inside of his chest. His eyes fell to the two scrambling forms, but more importantly to you.

Your legs were spread wide, your back pressed deeply into the cushions as you tried to free yourself. It wasn’t quick enough. He was able to observe your cunt in that quick flash, to see the slick across your folds before you clamped your legs shut and tried to hide your breasts beneath your palms.

A squeal left your mouth, embarrassment seeking into your features as you blindly searched for something to cover yourself as Robin began to defensively throw pillows at Steve to get him to turn away.

He did, but he still had the chance to get a good look at you. He thought about you constantly after that. He couldn't get rid of the sight of the way your body curved, the softness of your boobs and the way your ass moved when you walked. Most of all, he wanted to taste you. He wanted to press his tongue deep inside of you, to explore your deepest crevices until there was nothing left.

He felt like he was obsessed. Every time he touched himself or when he was with someone else; he thought of you. He pictured your pretty features, imagined what your face would look like contorted into pleasure with his face buried between your smooth thighs.

It was the one thing that truly got him off. He felt terrible, awful really. He knew it was wrong, but he could feel his eyes lingering each time you were in the room. It wasn't even in a sexual way. He could feel himself savoring the way you looked. He enjoyed the curve of your face, your nose and your lips. Your eyes. All of it.

He liked listening to you talk, how you'd ramble about your favorite books and the new movies that you were excited to see. You were sort of a nerd like Robin, but he ultimately enjoyed each little thing that fell from your tongue.

He felt like he was young again, like he was experiencing his first crush all over again. His palms would grow sweaty, his heart would hammer and he would stutter over his words as he tried to find the right thing to say to you. Robin had taken to mocking him, completely oblivious to his little crush.

You always acted interested, even if it was just out of kindness. You were patient, kind. As his feelings grew, the guilt began to consume him. He didn't know why the one person who he'd finally felt something for had to be Robin's.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, his mind racing as he took in the baggy shirt that was resting over your shoulders. He felt his mouth growing dry, his cheeks hot as he took in your hardened nipples against your shirt. His eyes trailed down to your hips, taking in your panties that were decorated in sunflowers.

"Yes," You giggled offhandedly as you pushed your hair behind your ears, exposing your pretty face to him, "Robin always has an easier time falling asleep." You told him truthfully, smiling as you held your cup of juice towards your chest.

"Yeah," Steve agreed softly, thinking of the many times that Robin had passed out in his bed next to him, "She's a deep sleeper." He nodded, his glass suddenly feeling too slippery in his grip. He sat it down as he leaned against the counter, watching the way your shirt slid further up your body as you raised your arm to take a drink from the cup.

"You've been around more lately," You observed, using the back of your hand to wipe the liquid from your lips, "Dry spell?" You teased him, making his lips curl up into a smile at the thought of you noticing.

"Something like that," He agreed as he tapped his fingertips on the counter. You moved towards him, resting near him as your gaze turned curious, "It's been driving me crazy." He suddenly blurted out, feeling a little alarmed at the way his heart was hammering from how close your hand was towards him.

"Yeah?" You looked at him curiously, crossing your legs so your foot just lightly grazed against his exposed skin. He inhaled sharply, swearing at the spark that traveled up his spine, "How come?"

"I'm, uh," He paused for a moment, trying to decide if his next thoughts were appropriate or not. He bit his bottom lip, deciding that you had asked after all, "I don't know. No one seems interested I guess."

"They're crazy," You brushed his worries off as you gripped his wrist, giving him a soft squeeze that left his insides flipped, "You're sweet. They don't know what they're missing. Being single isn't too bad though." You offered, shrugging your shoulders to make him feel better.

"I really miss pussy," He spit out again, horrified by his own reaction as he felt his cheeks flush, "Like desperately." He added a second later, his heart thumping against his bones as you looked at him surprised. You giggled again, looking like you were debating something before you decided to speak again.

"Toys are nice," You said softly as you fumbled your fingers together, "But sometimes I really miss the real deal." You couldn't look at him as you spoke, but he held onto each word regardless.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice suddenly feeling raw by the feelings that were rushing forth inside of him. He chewed on his bottom lip, feeling like he may combust at any moment.

"Mhm," You nodded your head, "I obviously wouldn't change anything, but I get it. It's like, almost feels like a drug you crave you know?" You tried to explain, feeling a little silly for talking about sex with your girlfriend's best friend. You and Steve were friendly, but you wouldn't say you were close despite the fact that you practically lived with them.

"Do you want to feed that craving?" He asked a little hotly, his voice husky and full of want as he watched the way your tongue drifted across your bottom lip. He felt a little feral, wanting to lean across the counter and lick your salvia from your mouth himself.

"What?" You looked at him surprised, your heart lurching in your chest as you were trying to see if you had heard him right. Your heart hammered inside of your chest as your stomach twisted. Steve was handsome. Really handsome. There was no denying that. You knew there had been moments when he'd strutted out shirtless that you had found yourself staring, your eyes drinking in his chest hair and the moles that decorated his skin.

"I know, I know how it sounds," He pleaded with her, sure that he would end up regretting this in the morning, "I just need a taste. No one has to know, I won't ever say anything." He could feel his dick twitching in anticipation, although he was fully prepared to be rejected. It was wrong. He shouldn't be asking you of all people in the first place.

"Steve," You breathed out slowly, feeling hot underneath his intense gaze, "This is wrong." You mumbled but stood to meet his stance regardless. He could feel the tension intensifying between the two of you, knew that you wanted him just as badly.

"I know that," He responded huskily as he drew a fingertip across her cheek, "Just need a taste. Once. It won't ever happen again." He promised her as he pressed his digit into her skin. You inhaled sharply, parting your lips as he stared into your mouth.

"Robin can't find out." You whispered a little softer, feeling guilty for the words that left your lips. Your stomach filled with guilt, but it wasn't enough to overcome the lust that had spread through the rest of your body.

"You can say no," He told her huskily as he knelt between her legs, his fingertips linking around her panties, "Do you want this?" He asked you seriously, giving you the ultimate decision. There was no going back for him.

"Yes," You responded gently, overwhelmed but the look of desperation in his eyes, "I want you, Stevie." You whispered underneath your breath, unable to control the way your body was moving closer to his.

He pressed you against the counter, gripping your soft thigh as he crashed his lips against your own. He swallowed your moans slowly as he dragged his lips against yours, enjoying the taste and feel of it all.

He was aching in his pants, his cock throbbing from how hard he'd grown just being near you. He felt like his skin was on fire, his body lighting into flames the more that he felt your bare skin against his own.

He moved his large hands against your waist, squeezing softly before he dipped his fingertips into the band of your panties. You sighed against his mouth, your fingertips playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he savored the feeling of your flesh against his own.

He slid his hands up to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from your mouth for just a moment as he tugged the cloth up over your shoulders. He breathed in hotly, admiring the shape your tits and the curve of your body before he pressed his lips against yours again.

You tasted sweet, like apples and sugar as he slid his tongue slowly inside of your mouth. You were hesitant for a moment, before you pressed your tongue against his just as urgently. He groaned at the feeling of your tongue pressing against his own before he dragged away, licking away the saliva from the corners of your lips.

Your stomach twisted in pleasure, drowning out the guilt as his tongue traced over the curve of your mouth. You swore he must've felt your heart hammering in your chest by the way his large hands squeezed over your tits.

"So pretty," He mumbled as he pulled away for just a moment, his eyes dark and heavy as he examined your features again. He drifted his fingers up towards your chin, holding onto you for a moment as he brushed his thumb across your skin, "You drive me crazy." He admitted, wondering if you knew just how true his words were.

He pecked your lips again before you could say anything else, stealing the breath from your lungs. He pressed a kiss to your chin, then down the curve of your neck as he made his way down to your hips. You breathed in roughly at the feeling of his lips dragging against your skin, your clit throbbing at the anticipation. it was wrong, but it felt so right.

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hair messy and his lips parted as he drew his fingertips teasingly along the band of your panties. Your heart hammered roughly, stalling inside of your chest as he hooked his fingers through the material and slowly dragged them down the length of your legs.

His eyes fell to you, drinking in the look of your wet pussy. He licked his lips, his mouth watering at the smell of your arousal that drifted along his nose. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you, was desperate to feel you squirming against him. He just needed a taste.

“Wanna taste you so bad,” He whined as he sat on his knees in front of you, his fingers drifting across your thighs, “Your pussy looks so pretty, looks like she tastes so sweet.” He spoked more to himself, feeling like he was in a trance as he dipped a fingertip between your folds.

He groaned at the slick feeling, at how warm and wet you felt as he slowly explored you with his fingertip. Your body twitched and you gasped, watching the intense way he was observing you.

He pressed his finger against your clit, pressing down softly as he rolled it around in a soft circle. You moaned as you spread your legs a little further, moaning at the warm sparks that spread through your body.

He pulled away, looking up at you with hazy eyes as he slowly pressed his finger inside of his mouth. He groaned as he tasted you, sighing deeply as he circled his tongue along his fingertip. He quickly pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself between your thighs. He was too needy to tease you as his cock began to throb hard in anticipation.

He dragged his tongue between your folds achingly slow, savoring each little moment as he curled his tongue slowly back up towards your clit. You whined, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you spasmed around him.

A soft whimper left his mouth as he enjoyed the taste of you as he swiped his tongue through your folds again. He pressed his mouth against your folds, puckering his lips as he kissed at your cunt.

Your body felt warm, tingles racing up your spine as he dipped his tongue lower and began to trace it around your hole. You gaped, struggling to keep your voice quiet as he curled his tongue deep inside of your fluttering hole.

“Stevie,” You whined as your thighs shook, your eyes fluttering as he lapped at you liked a starving man. Your heart fluttered, wondering if he was by the way his eyes met yours quickly. They were dark, dilated as he dragged his tongue back up towards your clit, “Jesus.” You cried out, squirming as your hips began to move on their own.

He placed another quick kiss against your clit before he dipped back down again, teasingly licking at your aching hole. Your motions became uncontrollably as you began to rut against his face messily, though by the sounds that he made it seemed like he enjoyed it even more.

His nose dug into your clit with his motions, pressing it against you repeatedly as you continued to rock your cunt against his eager tongue. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you tightly as soft groans fell from his mouth. He wasn’t touching himself, but moaned and groaned like he was getting himself off from the taste of you.

Your body felt like it was bursting into flames, spreading up the curve of your spine and way down to the tips of your toes. You dug your fingers deeper into his brown locks, clinging to him as he buried his face deeper into your cunt.

He curled his tongue inside of you, flicking it against your walls as you fluttered around him. It took everything in you to stay quiet, to keep from crying out as his nose continually hit against your clit. it was enough to drive you over the edge, to send your hips rocking up against his tongue one last time.

"Fuck, fuck," You did cry out this time, your moans filling the quiet apartment as his fingertips dug deep into your flesh. You moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back as your nipples grew hard from the sudden breeze that hit you, "Oh, God. Oh Steve." You sighed, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as you trembled around him.

His movements became more frantic as he licked away your cum, slowly dragging it through his mouth before he swallowed it all. He devoured you, feeling as though he'd never had something so sweet on his tongue before. He feared he'd never taste anything as good again, that he would forever be craving the feeling of you on his mouth.

"Let me fuck you," He begged as he clawed at your hips, "It'll feel so much better than any toy." He spoke honestly as he dragged you down towards him, his body feeling hot as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You moaned, your clit still sensitive from your orgasm as you pressed yourself against him. You pressed your lips against his, licking away the taste of yourself on his tongue as he desperately rocked his hips forward.

"Steve," You whined, rolling your hips against his clothed cock as you tangled your fingers through his hair, "It's wrong. I shouldn't want you like this." You whimpered but could feel your walls breaking down at the feeling of just how long and thick his cock was. It really had been a long time.

"Just wanna feel your pussy around me," He urged, looking all too desperate as he groaned at the wet way your cunt slid against him, "Please. Please it doesn't ever have to happen again." He nodded his head, doing whatever he could to reassure you.

"Okay," You wiggled off of him, falling onto your backside as you spread your legs wide. He drank in the image of you spread for him again, his mouth watering as he positioned himself between your legs. He roughly tugged down his pajama pants, barely giving you any time to look before he was gripping his thick girth and tapping his tip against your clit, "Jesus, Stevie. Need you so bad." You whispered, spreading your legs wider as he pressed his tip inside of your wet hole.

"God," He groaned, fighting the urge to shut his eyes from how good you felt wrapped around his cock. Your pussy squeezed him perfectly, was warm and wet as he slowly filled you to the brim. He admired the way your cunt hugged him, how your lips parted and a silent moan left your lips, "So perfect. You're so perfect." He spit out, unable to help himself as he balanced himself on his palms near your shoulders.

He gasped, pleasure shooting up his spine as he bottomed out inside of you. HIs balls fit snuggly against your skin as you took him easily, your mind swirling in pleasure as you suddenly found it hard to breath. Steve was big. Bigger than any of the toys Robin had ever used on you, bigger than any of the other men you'd been with.

The burn and stretch of him was delicious. It made your lips curl into a grin, your stomach curling in pleasure as the moans rolled off of your tongue. You dug your nails into his shoulder blades, whining at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that filled your body.

"Oh," You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head as he slowly dragged his cock out of your fluttering walls and then slammed back in. You cried out a little louder, struggling to stay quiet this time. His cock curved in just the right way to hit against your bundle of nerves with each little motion, "So good. You feel so good." You breathed out, unable to focus on anything else. You couldn't stop, not even if Robin were to stumble out. You were fucked.

Steve was a little louder, whiny and groaning as he slowly rutted his cock in and out of your crying cunt. You were leaking around him, coating his cock and balls in your slick as his thrusts became deeper and harder.

"You're doing so good," He praised you, grunting deeply as his hair fell wildly across his forehead. He groaned, moving a hand towards your hip as he looked down at the bulge against your stomach, "Feel that baby? Look at you, taking my cock so well." He groaned as he pressed against the spot, making you squirm at the intensity of it all.

You dug your nails into his skin a little harder, your lips falling open into bliss as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your fluttering walls. He felt so good, fit inside of you perfectly. You savored the feel of his cock, each ridge and curve as he continued to press your body harder into the floor.

He could feel the pleasure spreading through his body, his cock aching at how tightly your cunt was squeezing along his girth. His forehead fell towards yours as he drank in the feeling of your minty breath fanning his face. He closed his eyes before he blindly pressed his lips against your face, searching for your lips as he did his best to keep you both quiet,

You met his lips with a fierce intensity, moaning at the way your clit was erupting into flames from the way his was continually nudging against your g-spot. You were squirming, your thighs shaking from the white hot pleasure that was spreading deep inside of you.

You kissed him harshly, your tongue sliding against his messily as your teeth brushed against one another's. It was dirty, hot and sweaty as you savored the feeling and sound of his moans on your lips.

The sound of your flesh meeting filled the tiny kitchen, your cunt soaked and squelching along his thick cock. You felt your toes beginning to curl, your mind breaking into hazy pleasure as you clung to him.

"Steve, Steve I-," You shook, crying out as you reached forward to bite down harshly onto his shoulder. You whimpered, shaking as you came around his cock. Your whole body shuddered, your mind broken as all you could do was focus on how good you felt, "God. Oh God."

His breath was hot against the crook of your neck, his groans loud as his thrusts became more sporadic. He pushed into you even deeper, whimpering as he bottomed out once again. He came. his nose brushing against your cheek as his hot, white spunk filled your walls.

You panted against him, dragging your fingertips through his hair as he fell against you. You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being trapped underneath his weight. You nudged your nose against his neck, breathing in his sweaty musk as his heart beat rapidly against your skin.

He pulled back a second later, his eyes still dark and lustful as he slowly pulled his softening cock from your cunt. You whimpered at the loss, a gasp leaving your mouth a second later at the mess that slid from your hole.

Your body was warm as he spread your legs again, his lips dragging along your stomach before he kissed you lower and lower. You were too tired to protest, your pleasure too deep as he dropped between your legs again.

He dragged his tongue around your hole again, licking away the remnants of his cum before he dragged himself over your tired body. You looked up at him, eyes wide in lust as he slowly pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth again.

You dragged his cum from his tongue, licking it away gleefully as you held onto the back of his neck. You were still sore, overstimulated and far too sensitive but your hips still rocked forward against his.

"You're so good," He cooed, pulling away slowly to stare down at you. His heart was still hammering in the same manner, and he felt a sense of dread filling him. This wouldn't be the last time with you, he was sure of it, "Our little secret?"

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington Smut #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x reader smut #Steve Harrington x fem!Reader #Steve Harrington x Bi!Reader #Steve Harrington fic

[appocalipse]

hello! can I please request "I really, really want to kiss you right now." with steve and our shy!reader friend?!

here you go my love! hope you like it ♥ 1.3 k

The rain catches the two of you by surprise.

It pours down relentlessly, the cold droplets stinging your skin as you and Steve hurry towards his car, sadly parked way too far away from the charming flea market you had somehow dragged him to earlier that afternoon. 

Well, not really dragged exactly — Steve himself had volunteered to give you a ride the moment he heard you telling Robin how much you wanted to go and see if you could find some new furniture for your apartment, maybe even some decorations. But you felt as if you had dragged him there because, c'mon, what kind of guy thinks walking around a flea market with a friend is any fun?

And to top it off, the summer rain had come out of nowhere, sending everyone desperately running for shelter somewhere. Some lucky vendors had their tents already set up when it started, others began trying to cover their wares with tarps or whatever else they had at hand. A good number of them simply started to pack up their things to leave though, as did most of the potential customers who had been taking a look around — you and Steve included.

He had left his BMW in the parking lot of a closed store. It had seemed much closer before than it does now, as you and him run through the rain, palms over your heads to try to shield your faces from the relentless water.

You accidentally step into a puddle. Water splashes around your ankle, wetting the bare skin all the way up to your calf. You mutter a curse under your breath, deeply resenting your decision of wearing a summer dress today. "Oh, great." 

Steve chuckles, looking over his shoulder to you. Then what you can only assume is instant karma happens, and he slips and falls into a larger puddle, splashing water all over his pants and shoes.

You try to hold back, you really do, but the laughter is already building up inside of you, threatening to come out. And besides, he makes no move to get up, sitting there on the ground all wet, looking up at you like an abandoned puppy.

You giggle, which makes him laugh as well. 

"Sure," he says, "go ahead and laugh."

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" you choke out, trying to hold back your laughter as you approach him, offering one hand to help him up. "Are you okay?"

But of course he is. Except for the blow to his ego, that is. And now, in addition to just being wet, his jeans are also partially stained with mud.

And the t-shirt — which is white, no less — starts to stick to his skin, giving you a view you didn't ask for but that's certainly hard to ignore.

Steve accepts your hand, but you use both hands and too much force to pull him up, so he almost collides with you when he finally stands, his face inches from yours. You both laugh, because it was supposed to be funny — his head almost bumps into yours — but he grabs your shoulders and the remnants of the laughter from before slowly die when you realize without a doubt that he's looking at your mouth.

And you at his. In the rain. Doesn't get any more romantic than this.

Except for the fact that Steve is Steve, the former King Steve, the boy who had a pretty girl on his arm every week, while you are...you.

You're not sure who pulls away first, who clears their throat, changes the subject. But before you know it, you're sitting in the passenger seat of Steve's car, staring at the dashboard as lightning cuts across the darkened sky in the distance, a storm clearly brewing.

And it's worse. This feeling you have whenever you look at him or he says your name or anyone mentions his…it's somehow worse like this, in this moment, inside this car.

As if that wasn't enough, he offers you a jacket that he takes from the backseat. His jacket.

"Thanks," you murmur, taking the jacket and putting it on. It's warm. You remember the last time you saw him wearing it and resist the urge to close your eyes for a moment, inhaling his scent that still clings to the fabric. It's like a mix of laundry detergent, soap, and something uniquely Steve.

You feel a blush creep up your neck, and you look away, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

He hasn't started the car yet, you notice. Perhaps  he's considering waiting to see if the weather will get a little better? It doesn't look that bad that it's not safe to drive, you think.

“Sorry for dragging you here for nothing,” you say, when it’s clear he’s not going to say anything.

“You didn’t drag me,” Steve assures you, sitting half to the side to look at you. "And what do you mean, for nothing? You wanted to look at the furniture, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but we didn't buy anything and now you're all wet."

He chuckles so quietly you almost don't hear. "I didn't come here to buy furniture."

You think about asking what he actually came for, but that would be a stupid question, wouldn't it? A hope of hearing something that he probably won't say. He came so you could buy what you wanted. He's a good friend like that.

Still, when you turn your head to look at him, there's something different in the way he's looking back at you. You smile, hoping to God he doesn't notice the nervous edge behind it, "What?"

Steve opens his mouth. He's pretty sure he didn't give those words permission to come out, and yet they come out anyway,  hoarse and low, "I really, really want to kiss you right now."

You watch his lips move as he speaks, but it's like your mind can't process the words. 

And once you do, you blink, not quite sure what to say to that. Your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest, a wild thing thumping against your ribs. But there's something else in there too. Something warm. Something you haven't felt in a long time.

The front seats are close enough, so Steve reaches out, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your lips. "I've wanted to for a while now," he whispers, leaning in closer.

You feel hot all over, the air in the car suddenly too thick to breathe. 

Steve's fingers trail down your cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip, teasing you. It's a slow, deliberate movement, as if he's memorizing every inch of your face, every second of this moment. "Do you want me to?" he whispers, and the teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flip over. 

Your mind is spinning, but somehow you manage to force out the words, "Yes." You mean it. God, you mean it.

Steve's smile grows in that charming, lopsided way he has when he's happy. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in closer, closer…and then his lips are there, pressing softly against yours. Feather-light at first, like he's testing the waters, making sure this is what you want. But when you part your lips, letting him in, he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a slow, lazy rhythm, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head, holding you to him.

And then, all too soon, he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. "Was that…was that okay?"

You smile, leaning as close to him as you can without jumping over the gearshift.

"It was more than okay."

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