#he just looks like he has the most comforting smell idk??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairyysoup · 1 year ago

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i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

��Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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ellecdc · 7 months ago

Note

Hiii :) I saw your requests tips and saw that you didn't write for dub/non con and I don't know if this count as one so just feel free to not respond!

So reader is in a relationship with the Marauders and is starting to randomly think about a past SA and realise this was SA only now bc her brain has been blocking the memory and information. She tells the boys (and maybe Barty idk) about it after sometime of overthinking it and self blaming so it's just like super fluff at the end <3

(it's my personal experience but if you don't feel comfortable writing about it just feel free to ignore it :). Sorry for the bad orthograph english isn't my first language 🫶🏻)

first of all - your English is fucking fantastic (and you know more words than I do - I had to look up what an orthograph was) secondly, I turned this into more of a conversation between reader and her ship. and for plot purposes this became poly!wolfstar - hope that's okay!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who opens up about past SA

CW: discusses themes of sexual consent, inebriation, and SA. Describes past SA and abusive relationships. Describes drunkeness, alcohol, and drinking. viewer discretion is advised.

You could tell it was taking Sirius a lot of effort to appear to be too fussed over Lily, James, and Regulus at the end of the party, but he pretended to gag every time anything even remotely romantic or sexual was brought up about his brother.

“What do you think happens when they go home, Pads?” Remus muttered quietly, causing Sirius to slap his hands against his ears.

“Would you shut up, Moons? I am not interested in hearing about my brother’s sexual habits, thank you.”

Unfortunately for Sirius, Lily didn’t get the memo.

“Are we le-leaving!?” She shrieked through a hiccup as James held most of her weight up against his side and Regulus gathered her purse and shoes she’d since lost.

“Yes sweets; we’re gonna get you to bed.” James said quietly.

A salacious smirk took over Lily’s face as she tried (and failed) to grab James by the chin. “To bed, hm?”

Regulus snorted, though no one missed the blush that dusted his cheeks. “To sleep, Lils.”

Lily groaned dramatically and seemed to go ‘no bones’ in James' grip as he grunted and tried to keep her from hitting the ground. “Why not.”

“Because you smell like you bathed in a bottle of schnapps, sweetheart.” James placated.

“So?” Lily grumbled though acquiesced to helping James keep her up right. “We can even do that thing you like.” She tried to sing sensually, but her efforts were in vain as every other word came out slurred.

Sirius grumbled causing James to blush.

“Not tonight, angel. We’ll cuddle, okay?”

Lily scoffed and turned her sights onto Regulus. “You agree with me, right? Right Reggie? You agree- you agree with me?”

“Almost always.” Regulus agreed quickly, offering Lily his arm as to share her weight with James. “Just not tonight, my love.”

“You guys are no fun.” Lily whined as she allowed her two boyfriends to usher her out of Remus and Sirius’ shared flat.

Unfortunately for Sirius, no one missed Regulus leaning into Lily’s hair and promising that “they’d have lots of fun tomorrow to make up for it.”

“I hate them all.” Sirius grumbled with no real malice as he stood and made his way over to you before offering you both of his hands. “What do you say, dollface? Ready for bed too?”

Remus answered ‘yes’ as you accepted Sirius’ help up which sparked a debate between the two of them whether or not Remus could be considered ‘dollface’ to which you secretly agreed that yes he could but ultimately refused to participate in such nonsense.

You got ready for bed in a haze as you replayed Regulus, James, and Lily’s conversation in your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you were so stuck on, but something about the exchange caused something deep within your gut to churn unpleasantly.

“You feeling alright, dovey?” Remus asked gently, pressing a kiss to your hairline as you reentered their bedroom after washing your face, carrying your toiletries with you so as not to hog the bathroom.

Sirius (and Remus) had been begging you to spend your nights here with them nearly since the very beginning of your relationship, but you argued that you did not want to pay rent for a flat you never saw.

He then started nagging you to give up the lease on your flat and just “sodding move in with them already”, but it still felt a little too fresh for that.

So, you spent most nights (but not all) at their flat; living out of duffle bags and toiletry bags.

You hummed in confirmation to Remus’ question, moving towards the mirror above Sirius’ dresser to finish your skincare routine as Remus took his turn with the washroom.

“You sure, sweetness? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight; did you have fun?” Sirius continued as he went digging through what you knew to be Remus’ drawers searching for Sirius’ favourite shirt which was really Remus’ shirt but no one bothered to argue with the black-haired boy…anymore.

“I had fun.” You agreed, massaging product into your face.

“Uh huh.” Sirius commented, not sounding at all convinced as he came up behind you and hooked his chin over your shoulder; watching as you completed your nightly routine through the mirror. “You had so much fun and that’s why you look like Moony when he can’t figure out one of those crosswords in the Daily Prophet?”

You chuckled softly, but something in your lack of enthusiasm (or your lack of disdain) for his joke seemed to tip him off.

“What’s going on in here, hm?” He asked as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I just…” You started, sighing as you made yourself busy by tidying up your belongings and refusing to make eye contact with him. “I’ve just been thinking about Reg, James, and Lily’s conversation.”

That caused a dramatic groan to rip through Sirius’ chest as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

“What now?” Remus asked jokingly as he returned from the washroom.

“She’s thinking about Regulus, James, and Lily in bed.” Sirius accused; voice muffled in the fabric of your sleepwear.

You scoffed defensively, claiming you were “absolutely not” at the same time Remus commented “aren’t we all” which started a very loud bickering match between your two boyfriends.

The arguing only ceased when Remus “swore on his mother’s life” that Sirius was “by far the superior Black brother.”

Placated, Sirius turned his sights back to you as you sat on the edge of the bed. “So, what were you really thinking about their conversation?”

Remus, having walked in with only enough time to rile Sirius up, popped his head up at that. “Everything alright, dove?”

You sighed as you turned to face them. “I was just confused, I guess.” You admitted. “I think…Lily was hoping to have sex tonight?”

Sirius groaned again which earned him a swat from Remus who seemed to pick up on some of the tension radiating through your body.

“Yes…I’d agree.” Remus responded carefully.

“And Reg and James said no?”

Sirius’ head tilted at that as he considered you with furrowed brows. “Well, of course, doll. She was drunk.” He said simply, as if that explained it all.

“So…they wouldn’t have sex with her because she was drunk?” You clarified.

The boys shared a glance with one another before they each took a seat on the bed, prompting you to turn your body so you were all facing each other.

“So, all parties have to be able to consent, right?” Remus started.

You nodded quickly at that.

“But when one party is inebriated or under the influence, they can’t consent.” Sirius continued.

You felt your eyebrows twitch as you looked down at the pattern on your bed spread. “Even though she was asking?”

“She wasn’t in her right mind, dove.” Remus explained gently; eyes full of compassion and, perhaps, some sadness. “She may have woken up tomorrow and not remembered anything, or perhaps worse, regretted something. It’s Regulus and James’ jobs to keep her safe, just like I’m sure she keeps them safe when the roles are reversed.”

And now you could understand why their conversation seemed to catch you so off guard.

“You’re so pretty like this; drunk and all mine.”

“Have a few more; we always have more fun when you let loose.”

“But…I’m really tired.” “All you’ve got to do is lay there - I’ll do all the work.”

“You don’t remember last night? That’s too bad; I won’t be forgetting that any time soon.”

“You’re such a good little whore for me when you’ve had a few too many.”

You hadn’t realised you had zoned out of the conversation until Sirius was leaning into your field of vision. “You okay, sweets?”

“Yeah.” You said breathlessly before clearing your throat. “No, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Why were you asking?” Remus queried; tone hardening slightly, alerting you to the fact that he smelled trouble.

“I was just wondering.” You fibbed.

“You know we would do the same, right?” Sirius asked earnestly. “That we have done the same for you.”

“You have?”

“Yes, my love.” Remus whispered. “Always.”

You nodded and looked back down at the bedspread. “Okay.”

“Y/N.” Sirius called with a certain level of severity; though you detected no anger or frustration in his tone. “Why were you asking?” He repeated Remus’ earlier question after your gaze met his imploring silver eyes.

You quickly looked down at your hands as you began picking at the hangnails around your fingers. “I was just confused; that has not always been my experience.” You admitted quietly; shame coursing through your body as you digested this new information.

The room was quiet for a moment as Remus shuffled scrupulously closer to you. “No?” He whispered; voice intoned with a level of gentleness you weren’t accustomed to hearing.

You began to feel all sorts of discomfort at the heavy attention being focused on you in the room. “It was usually quite the opposite.” You joked; voice rising to a higher octave in an attempt to make light of the situation as you pulled back the covers and made to retreat to the relative safety of the boys’ bed.

“Whoa, whoa. What does that mean?” Sirius implored, earning him a gentle warning “Pads” from Remus.

“I’m sorry.” You placated, still uncomfortable with this heavy atmosphere you seem to have blanketed over what had been a really nice evening. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I-” Sirius began, cutting himself off and taking a breath you could tell was an attempt to calm himself down. He shuffled closer to you and wrapped his hand around one of your ankles through the blanket as he rubbed soothing circles against it. “You can always talk about anything with us; it’s important that we talk about these things, yeah?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Remus mollified. “But I do agree with Sirius; if you’re comfortable, I think it’s good for us to talk about these things.”

“It was just my last relationship.” You admitted finally. “He didn’t…agree - with the consent thing, that is.”

Remus’ lips pursed as Sirius’ jaw tightened.

“He’d sleep with you when you were drunk?” Remus asked cautiously.

“Yeah.” You agreed half-heartedly, picking at your nail beds. “Or encourage me to drink more so…”

Remus let out a sigh and you could tell Sirius was fighting back the urge to grumble.

“I’m sorry,” You offered again. “I really didn’t mean to bring all this up, I just-”

“I really, really don’t want you to apologise anymore.” Sirius nearly begged.

“I don’t understand how someone could do that.” Remus mused aloud. “To anyone; and someone they claimed to love?”

You mistook Remus’ rhetorical question for an actual need for clarification. “He said I was more fun; that I’d try things I wouldn’t normally.”

Sirius did finally let out an angry huff and his fingers stilled on your ankle. “Who?”

“You don’t know him.” You countered quickly, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as you rested your chin on your knees.

“Lucky him.” Sirius muttered darkly as Remus shifted closer to you.

“I’m sorry dove.” He offered quietly; holding out his hand to you in a silent invitation. You accepted it, and as you gave him your hand, he gently encouraged you over to him until you were cradled in his arms.

“I didn’t tell you to be sorry.” You murmured quietly as Remus began pressing kisses to the raw and reddened skin around your fingers you hadn’t realised you had nearly shredded in your tension.

“I know you didn’t.” He whispered. “I’m still sorry, anyhow.”

“I think it’s nice… that the boys were looking after Lily.”

Remus hummed in agreement though he still looked particularly disturbed.

“That’s their job.” Sirius supplied, causing you and Remus to turn your heads towards your boyfriend whose eyes were red and shining with unshed tears.

“Sirius.” You murmured miserably.

“Just like it’s our job to look after you.” He continued as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

“And you do.” You agreed.

Sirius huffed and wiped at his face. “I hate to think of you being hurt or…or taken advantage of when I wasn’t there to help you.”

Remus made a pitiful sound at that.

“You didn’t even know me then, Siri.” You offered, half teasing and half placating.

“She’s alright, Sirius.” Remus comforted. “She’s got us. You’ll be okay now, yeah?”

And you thought of your boys now; you thought of Sirius near tears thinking of someone taking advantage of you during a time you hadn’t even known him, you thought of Remus currently cradling you like you were a precious thing he feared losing if he didn’t hold you with the utmost care, and you thought of their friends - the kind of people who they surrounded themselves with and had the same morals as they did.

Yeah…you think you might just be okay now.

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kkrymiii · 5 months ago

Text

"No need to be sober"

G!p Kim minjeong x Fem reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

MDNI! (Not proofread!)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

CW: smut, pet names, drunk asf, mafia, no protection :0, perv minjeongie idk seems like it

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

At the mafia bosses party, in his mansion, her daughter named minjeong or winter, was having fun drinking and chatting with her friends, The mafia bosses daughter, just arrived at the party actually. Being late due to not wanting to attend... But then Suddenly something caught minjeongs eyes... SOMEONE to be exact.

Minjeong immediately locked her eyes at. You..

Winter walks over to you, slowly walking over to her, making eye contact the whole time not breaking once

“You are really pretty.”

Winter smiled, she got quite shy for a few seconds. "eh?" I replied shocked and awkward from the sudden move of a random girl on me. Winter keeps smiling, she looked genuinely interested in you “Your eye makeup is really good you know, along with your dark red lips.” Winter leaned towards you more.

but as I was about to respond to her.

"alright jeongie stop being a creep when your drunk leave the pretty girl alone" a sharped eyed girl, wearing a black dress that hugged her curves perfectly said. It was minjeongs younger sister. Minjeong gets yanked back, she was pretty wasted but she was trying to fight the urge to take another sip of her whiskey. She looked at her sister “But she’s so pretty, she’s very gorgeous, I could kiss her right now and she’d probably fall in love with me."

"your whiskey ass smelling breath probably would not be the best for her to taste.. anyways ma'am I apologize with my sisters actions" the younger sister said sighing STILL trying to yank minjeong but she wouldn't budge. Minjeong laughs and shakes her head slightly "don’t apologize, she’s very pretty, I actually thought she’d like me back.” She gets yanked back by her younger sis but she’s not resisting at all, she looks very dazed

"minjeong let's go father's gonna scold you again.." the younger sister sighed her patience running thin. “Ugh, you’re ruining my fun, she’s so pretty, I’m gonna kiss her, and she’s gonna love me, I’m gonna be her wife.” Minjeong keeps trying to get free from her sibling so she can go over to the beautiful girl. "What?.. your disgusting... you know father's no gonna allow you to date someone you just found at the party.... And who even is this girl... " The younger looked up at you scanning your face. You had a sheepish expression clearly awkward from the situation.

But then suddenly. Minjeong darts across the room again, to try and get to her, she has absolutely no control over how much she’s drinking so she’s pretty much wasted Minjeong finally manages to get over to her, and she immediately hugs the girl, and squeezes her in to a bear hug, the girl smells so good too, like pure honey.

"Ahh-.. I'm.. sorry are you okay?" You gulped not knowing what to do with this girl..your hands floating in the air, But for Minjeong it's the opposite. Minjeong is in heaven, she’s having the best time in her life. “Yes… yes I am… I am so drunk, but right now I feel like I’m in l-luuuv.” Minjeong says really slowly and drawn out, her words slurring together and her face is extremely hazy and red.

"Ah-.. this.. this face?" You muttured as you recognized the face. "Y...you.. are the mafia's boss daughter?" Minjeong slowly nods “Yeah… he’s the most amazing father ever, I love my sisters too.” She keeps squeezing her, she’s so comfortable, so comfortable to hold, she starts burying her head onto your neck. You couldn't help but giggle a little bit finding this girls words funny "uh-.. I'm sorry but..are you okay?..you seem really drunk." You said clearing your throat trying to be responsible now.

"I’ll be honest… I’m absolutely wasted but all I can think about is you. I love you." Minjeong keeps squeezing her tightly, and she hugs her close, pulling her into a embrace. You gulped looking at her as your eyes scramble everywhere. "Whaa- but we just met tho?"

“I don’t care… you’re mine now, I don’t care we just met, I just fell in love with you.” Minjeong keeps sniffing her and pressing her face into her neck more and more, she can’t get enough of her, she wants to be with her, kiss her and marry her. "wait.. how about let's go to the bathroom and wet your face.. you seem really drunk.. and your father wouldn't want to see you like that yeah?" You suggested. Minjeong sighs and pouts, she was absolutely infatuated with you, and she hated having to leave your side “Fineeeee!” Minjeong pouts as she finally lets go of you and walks into the bathroom, she was very grumpy and looked extremely disappointed. "uh! Wait don't walk like that you might fall" you said catching up to minjeong holding her as they make they're wait to the bathroom. Minjeong doesn’t fight, and lets herself be dragged along, she holds your arm and leans into you to keep you beside her “You’re so beautiful, I wanna kiss you.” Minjeong whispers at your ear, she’s being really clingy with her.

"What the hell does her father feed her." You thought to yourself but kept a warn awkward smile at her as you lead her to the bathroom. As you guys arrived at the bathroom, you immediately helped Minjeong, making her wet her face with water as you handed her a handkerchief. And this girl leans on the sink staring at you for a whopping 5 minutes Minjeong sighs, not letting you go as she lets you wet her face, when she’s done she looks up at you “.....ughh.... your so pretty, I want to kiss you right now, right here.” Minjeong leans in to try and kiss you with her whiskey drenched lips. " i- I don't think this is allowed.." you dodged it swiftly, backing up creating distance.

Minjeongs pouting gets even more obvious the more she gets rejected, she gets really jealous at the fact that she isn’t getting what she wants, she can’t stand the rejection "You have no choice… I want to kiss you.” Minjeong leans in again and goes for a kiss for the 100th time. Minjeong uses all the strength she has left and is completely force kissing this time, your lips just feel so good to her and she just wants to stay kissing them. Minjeong keeps going, pushing her body against hers, kissing you on the lips so aggressively. Minjeong keeps kissing her, but not a simple kiss, but a aggressive and possessive kiss, as if she’s saying mine to you, that she’s hers, and she’s not allowed to get with anyone else but her. Minjeong holds you even closer, not letting her go. She just gets more and more aggressive with the kisses and she starts to go deeper, it’s getting slightly obsessive and possessive, as if she’s trying to claim her as her own. Minjeong grabs your hips tightly and forces her closer

Minjeong goes even deeper, as if she’s trying to suck the soul out of her. “Mineee, mine I tell you, you’re mine mine mine.” Minjeongs lips are already slightly swollen and have some slight bruising from the intense kissing that she has been doing with you, but to her it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t let go.

Soon you were bent over holding onto the sink for her dear life as minjeong was ramming into her pussy with her dick.

"Fu- fuck! Better than I..ah.. imagined" Minjeong panted as she grabbed your waist drilling herself into you. You were taking it like a good girl. You could hear minjeongs babbles and heavy breathes as she's clearly drunk asf. "Baby baby!.. fuck... I'm.. I I want to fuck you until you can't remember anything" minjeong moaned as she leaned over still rocking her hips into you as she aggressively placed kisses all over your back, making you moan and shiver.

"Ah.. pleas..ee please minjeong" you moaned out as you already were seeing the stars. Why the hell was this girl so good with her thrust game!? "Hell.. yeah!.. haha.. fuck fuck.. I'm gonna Impregnate you" minjeong chuckled as she fixed your guys position. Lifting your leg up to her shoulders now hitting more of your good spots making you moan out loud losing control, as tears fell out of your face.

"Wah?! Fuck! Ah.. good! Too much!!" You cried out trying to grab onto something but ended up grabbing onto the sink again as you were getting fucked hard by the mafia's bosses daughter. You felt ashamed at the same time since you were also a daughter of a 'scary family' if you know what I mean. But seeing yourself get this submissive over another girl who was apart of another family that was apart of the mafia shattered your ego Abit... But who cares she's hot asf and good ay sex :3

"Wahh- shi shit! Slut.. I'm coming! Makei.. eu.. ah- my wife! Mineeee!" Minjeong moaned drool dripping out of her mouth as her thrusts became more harder. She was pulling out and then slamming hard as she can, clearly teasing. "Wh.. ah.. fuck hurts- pl..please" you cried out, even if you couldn't see it it was clear due to the hard slamming red marks were definitely being made.

"Coming! Ta.. take it all!" Minjeong said as she thrusted one more time, as she released in you filling you up. You could feel her cock twitching adding to the pleasure as you came too, your liquids mixing as you two rode it out.

Minjeong then leaned in to you laying her head on your collar bone inhaling your scent as she gently rocked her hips getting friction riding the release of you two out. As minjeong pulled out she looked down at you, her eyes softening as she pulled you into a hug.

"My wife... No need to be sober to fall in love." She muttured peppering your neck with kisses. You didn't know how to respond so you just carressed her hair letting her do what she wanted.....

And let's just say as you to fixed yourself and dressed yourself back up and went out of the bathroom. You and minjeong went separate ways, her with her friends and family and you with your friends and family too, you couldn't help ofcourse but stare at her direction and seeing from afar that she was definitely getting scolded by her younger sibling. Which she said was named ningning, and her older sibling named karina...

You couldn't help but giggle from afar.

#mjk☆shish #kpop #minjeong x reader #kim minjeong smut #minjeong imagines #kim minjeong #minjeong #g!p aespa #g!p minjeong #aespa scenarios #aespa imagines #aespa smut #aespa winter #aespa #kpop smut #kpop girl group #kpop girl group smut #fem reader #g!p

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userlando · 1 year ago

Text

a different light — max verstappen

max verstappen x fem!reader [6.9k] summary: you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend) warnings: 18+ explicit smut, idiots in love, friends to lovers a/n: idk what it is with me and writing fics at work, but here i am again. i had SO much fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading this ♡

Max hadn’t experienced many moments where he felt true and utter bliss, especially when he was growing up. His home life made it hard, and he’d rejected any type of positive feelings for a long time until you came along. You’d been a force to be reckoned with, matching Max’s energy so well that it wasn’t hard to build a solid friendship that would last for as long as it did.

He found comfort in your soft skin, in your reassuring smile. Even in the way your voice would get all high pitched when you told a white lie. You’d been his one true pillar when his career went from karting to racing, becoming a known household name in the chaos of it all. You’d kept his feet on the ground when he needed it most, and there was no amount of money to ever repay you for everything you’d done for him, and you vice versa.

So, he found comfort in a lot of things when it came to you. But you, sitting close to him when you had so many seats and chairs to choose from? That was everything.

You had claimed the two-seater for yourselves, but it didn’t stop you from snuggling right up to your best friend’s side with his arm around you and your head comfortably resting on his pectoral. It was a common occurence, you so deeply embedded in his arms that it might as well have been a permanent shape of you on his skin. Max had grown up with you, so he'd basically memorized the smell of your shampoo that you'd used since you were fifteen, the freckles and moles on your face and how goosebumps rose on your skin at the slightest cold breeze because that's who you were.

He'd naively thought it to be normal, to be so in tune with his best friend and it wasn't until he'd entered early adulthood and actually spent time with his friends on the grid that he realized that maybe it wasn't usual.

He still remembered the day he'd brought you along for the Baku Grand Prix and you'd mentioned being childhood friends in a passing conversation, registering the sheer looks of confusion coming from his friends. It had made him flush, a little embarrassed and a little confused until Daniel had hooked an arm around his shoulders and murmured I've been going around for three months thinking she was your girlfriend, man.

Max had shoved his friend and pulled a face, the usual ‘gross, she’s like a sister’ phrase on his tongue that he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. But it had stuck with him for the rest of that day, and the more he thought about it, the more Daniel was probably right in thinking so.

Max couldn't pinpoint what exactly had shifted after that day, but he knew that something had changed. He became hyper aware of your touches and lingering looks, your ability to flirt but still toe the line of it being a little too inappropriate.

Sharing hotel rooms became weird, and it dawned on Max that maybe the two of you were acting a little too much like a couple when he found himself in bed with you snoring by his side, Daniel's words still haunting him like a ghost at the corner of the king sized bed.

He’d stared at your face in the dark for an hour, the street lights doing a good job of contouring your face in the dark and he’d felt a knot in his stomach when you’d shifted in your slumber and reached for something. He hadn’t realized what you looked for until you placed your hand on his arm.

Not grabbing. Just… setting it there like you needed his comfort even in your sleep. Such a simple gesture that had shook your best friend to the core.

The Aussie made it, along with Lando, his life's mission to send looks and make comments after that race weekend in Baku.

That was eight months ago, and they clearly had no intention of stopping as you sat in the backyard of Carlos' family vacation home in Palma de Mallorca, surrounded by drivers and their partners alike. You’d been there for two days, the relaxation already blanketing your group the more you spent time in the ocean and dozed in the loungers. The nights consisted of card games, drinking games and bonfires until someone had the stupid idea to go for a dip in the sea that just so happened to be in your backyard.

You'd been dozing tonight, finding it hard to stay awake with the way Max's fingers absentmindedly drew patterns up and down your drawn up legs.

The sun had clearly done its number on you during the day, draining every bit of energy you’d had. Heat and humidity always did that to you, so it wasn’t a surprise that you’d find the comfort of your best friend’s embrace the moment everyone sat down and curl up much like a cat.

The rhythm of his chest was enough to lull you into a sense of security, watching your group of friends across the table as they played Uno with the occassional accusation and shouts that came with playing the card game.

It had been Charles' idea to play it, clearly wanting to see the world burn as he put a group of competitive people into a game of Uno. It had been great entertainment though, your lips curled into a permanent amused smile as you watched on in silence.

Lando pulled a draw four card, setting it down with a grin and Carlos cursed in Spanish, clearly annoyed as he shoved the curly haired boy. A ripple of laughter tore through the group at the display, and you figured that it wasn't long before the game would dissolve into angry arguments.

"You can't beat the master of Uno." Lando said, clearly looking to agitate the Spaniard as the black haired man picked up an additional four cards to his already stacked hand.

"You've lost the last four games, mate." Charles muttered into his glass, taking a sip of his icy margarita for good measure.

"My luck is turning, mate.” Lando flipped him off, earning laughter from Pierre and George. “Get off my back."

You watched them bicker, thoughts stuttering to a halt when Max shifted beneath you. He drew the hand that had been on your legs up, ruffling your hair gently and you glanced up at him.

"Have you fallen asleep on me yet?" He asked quietly, for your ears only and you grinned sleepily, the perfect picture of comfortable.

“Not yet.” You muttered, covering your mouth as a yawn took you by surprise and Max smiled in amusement.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” He glanced up at the boys when their voices picked up volume. “Get out before this becomes massacre.”

You laughed, nodding your head in agreement and letting him pull you up. No one really noticed as you slipped away, or if they did, they didn’t question it.

The voices of your friends faded into the background the further you got away from the house, grass and gravel transformed into cobblestones leading up to the town and further from the ocean.

“It’s so pretty here.” You mused, looking down the cobbled path, lit up by street lamps. “I’d love to live some place like this, some day.”

Max’s brows furrowed, following your gaze before looking at you questioningly.

“You basically do.” He said, humourous lilt to his voice. “Mooching off of me, living it up in Monaco.”

It would’ve made you feel self-conscious and even a little embarrassed if those words had come from anyone else but Max, but you’d been friends for so long that you knew when he was joking and when he was being serious. And in this case, it was the former. It was evident in the teasing smile and his light voice, aside from the fact that he’d always find a way to rebook your flight and beg you to stay for a few more days. As if you hadn’t been with him for a week already, as if you didn’t attend nearly every race because he claimed that he didn’t want anyone else around but you.

You were aware that it wasn’t a normal friendship, what the two of you had. And you knew that people thought it to be unbelievable that you weren’t romantically involved, some days you questioned that yourself. But that was a whole can of worms that you weren’t ready to crack open just yet. It felt too dangerous.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon.” You said, voice airy as you tossed your hair over your shoulder and skipped a step forward before turning and walking backwards in front of Max. He arched a confused brow, almost disappearing under his cap and the sight was a little too funny. “As soon as I find another man to live off of. Preferably handsome and rich.”

You were kidding, obviously, but the thought still made something sour well up in Max’s throat and he struggled to not frown in annoyance. He looked away, making it seem as if he was admiring the ocean view that he could barely see in the dark, when he was in fact trying to shield his face from your attentive eyes.

“Shouldn’t be too hard.” He said, cursing himself when his voice shook. It was so minimal though and you thankfully didn’t call him out on it. ”I mean, look at you.”

There was an awkward silence seeping into the space between you and you tried to maintain the aloof expression on your face but it was hard when your stomach was doing weird flip flops. Look at you.

“And also,” Max continued, rushing to fill the silence and break the sudden and rare awkwardness. “You’ve got me as your wingman.”

That made you laugh, and something like relief flooded Max’s stomach.

“Wingman? Right.” You turned, walking ahead of him and the boy frowned at the disbelieving tone in your voice.

“What do you mean? I’m an excellent wingman.” He jogged up to catch up with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.

It always amused him how you stumbled into his embrace whenever he did that, always so caught off guard but never once doubting that he’d be there to keep you upright. It was his favourite thing to do, mainly because you’d grumble and peer up at him with your eyes and Max would grin like the close proximity didn’t make him want to vomit with how much he craved to press his lips to yours. Just to see what it’d be like.

“Max,” you rolled your eyes. “No one ever dares to approach me when you’re by my side. You’re like a guard dog.”

“What?” He pulled back a little to look at your face, still keeping his arm around you. “I’m not! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You scare off every single man!” Your voice went high in amusement and something else that he couldn't put his finger on. At Max’s furrowed brows, you sucked your teeth in exasperation and continued, “Last weekend, we were out in Monaco, remember? Two guys approached me, and you just magically seemed to show up and stake your claim. You might as well have peed all over me.”

The furrow between Max’s eyebrows seemed to deepen, feeling a little lost all of a sudden because you sounded genuinely upset and he didn’t know what to do with that.

“That's disgusting. And I wasn’t staking anything.” Max grumbled when the silence stretched on. “They were idiots anyway. Who wears sunglasses inside a club? At night?"

The both of you stared at each other as you walked and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle that broke the sudden tension. Just the sound of it made Max relax a little from where he'd suddenly gone tense.

“He was kind of a loser, wasn’t he?” You agreed, because it was true. “But you still scare every guy off.”

Okay, so maybe he did. And he’d done so unintentionally until last year before his feelings for you started to enter dangerous territory. Whereas before, he’d genuinely think that the guys you dated were total idiots, now he’d find a way to glare and act standoffish until the men took that as a sign and bailed.

“Sorry.” He said, but he really wasn’t. And you clearly didn’t believe he was sincere, judging by the arched brows on your forehead. “What? I am.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because you weren’t really upset about the fact that Max managed to chase men off whenever they got close to you. It was just the fact that he ran them off and then continued to act as if his actions didn’t have any hidden motives.

There was clearly something between the two of you, and it scared you but it also made you want more. Max was just too much of a wuss to act out on it, and so were you, in a way.

You didn’t know how many hints you could dish out before it got borderline ridiculous. Max didn't need a push, he needed a shove.

The both of you took a walk around the small village before circling back home. A few had retired to bed already, and you found Daniel, Pierre and Lando lounging around by the outdoor fireplace. Lando clocked the both of you walking into the backyard, looking a little suspicious and you shot him a questioning glance.

“Welcome back, children.” The man himself greeted, earning a flick to the head by Max in passing. He yelped, making you laugh as you sat down by Pierre.

“We’re older than you, idiot.” You pointed out and Max made a hum in agreement, looking around with a small frown.

It was ridiculous how he all of a sudden felt a little lost when you didn’t immediately go for a seat that held two people. You always managed to find a seat right next to Max, even going as far as sitting in his lap when he was in a chair; neither of you pointing out the fact that there were other seats to choose from.

But now you’d sat next to Pierre, and he felt something ugly bloom in his chest when the man in question draped a friendly arm over the backrest. You were good friends with the Frenchman, and he had a girlfriend but it still made Max annoyed.

He reluctantly sat in a chair when he realised that he’d lingered for too long, trying to tune into the conversation that had gone on for the whole time he’d gotten lost in his head.

You’d noticed, of course you had, there was no one as in tune with Max Verstappen as you were. It made you feel a smidge of glee because it was just further confirmation that whatever was going on between the two of you wasn’t friends being friends.

And it only seemed to solidify when Max looked your way, a hundred emotions shining in his eyes as he glared daggers at Pierre and his harmless arm. You arched an eyebrow, silently and innocently asking him what was wrong.

You watched Max shift in his seat.

“So, where’s Kika, Pierre?” He asked, the question coming out of the blue and you almost rolled your eyes, trying not to react when Daniel and Lando’s conversation trailed off to look at the three of you.

Pierre touched your shoulder with a finger, a tap that conveyed so much and you hid a smile by biting your cheek. Leave it to Pierre to read a room and embody the innocent and clueless man perfectly in order to help you.

“She’s sleeping.” He replied easily, kindly. “Had a little too much to drink. Which reminds me…” He trailed off and turned his head to look at you. “She wanted me to remind you of your plans tomorrow.”

“What plans?” Max asked before you had a chance to reply.

“We’re just going to a boutique we came across. It looked cute,” you smiled. “It was closed when we walked by today. But they had these nice bikinis I wanted to get my hands on.”

Lando looked up at the mention of bikinis, a smarmy smile that told you exactly what he’d say before he even opened his mouth.

“Can I come?” He asked, making Daniel cackle.

You stretched your leg out to kick his shin, grinning at his cheekiness. Lando dodged your kick just barely, a smile of his own stretching his lips.

“You’re being weird.” Max said, giving the British boy a look that looked an awful lot like a warning. It didn’t deter Lando though, not like it’d make a grown man running if it were aimed at a stranger.

The curly haired boy only rolled his eyes, a playful air to him as he glanced between you and Max.

“I’m being weird, sure.” He said. “Not as weird as you two sharing a bed.”

A hot flush traveled up your spine and reached your cheeks when Pierre and Daniel laughed, like they were trying to hold it in but couldn’t. You had half a mind to reach over the table and strangle your friend who looked way too smug to have aired out the one thing everyone probably had thought at least once, but never said out loud.

You and Max shared a glance, expecting him to look embarrassed but he looked smug and you didn’t know why your stomach rolled at the sight. He looked… hot. Confidence had always looked good on Max.

“At least I have someone to share a bed with, dipshit.” He stretched out his hand to pinch Lando, making everyone laugh. “Can’t say the same for you.”

“Oh, ha!” Lando raised his voice in a fake laugh, face scrunched up adorably sarcastic. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny, Max. Maybe you should consider being a comedian instead of the insufferable driver that you are.”

“Maybe then you’d have a chance to get podium.” Max said around a laugh and it took exactly two seconds before everyone started hollering and cackling, Lando standing up to deliver half-assed punches and nips at the laughing Dutchman who tried to dodge the incoming attacks.

You watched with an amused smile as they scuffled, both red in the face from laughter and shouts. There was no way that they wouldn’t end up waking up everyone in the house, so you stood up and ushered Lando away from Max with a laugh.

“You’re both children.” You pointed your finger at Lando when he took a step back.

“Still more mature than you.” Lando said, not maturely at all and you smiled in amusement.

“That's a fucking lie, mate.” Daniel scoffed, laughter in his voice and Lando turned around to give him a piece of his mind.

You watched them dish out insults at each other that really sounded a lot like friendly love in disguise, startling a little when you suddenly felt arms circle your waist. A yelp left your lips when you were pulled into Max’s lap, twisting until you could look at him.

The closeness of his face caught you off guard, the blue in his eyes so striking with the fireplace reflecting in them. You draped both legs over his lap, making yourself comfortable with a shy smile.

“Hi.” He greeted you softly once you’d settled down.

“Hello.” Your breath stuttered a little when he brushed his fingers against your waist, skin against skin where your tank top had ridden up.

“I think that’s our cue to go to bed.” Daniel said quietly, but loud enough for you to hear and look at him.

Lando shot him a look, eyebrows raising when both Daniel and Pierre stood up.

“I’m not tired? You go —“ He halted his words when Daniel glared at him. “Right. Whatever.”

The boys stood up, bidding you goodnight and kisses to your head before disappearing inside. You watched them through the sliding doors as they shoved each other and laughed, vanishing around a corner. Max squeezed your side and you glanced at him.

“What?” You asked when you spotted the smile that so badly wanted to break out on his face, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.

“You were trying to make me jealous.” He said, not as a question but as a sure statement. You rolled your eyes and tried to steady your breathing when he leaned forward to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck, his hot puffs of breath making goosebumps rise on your skin.

You squirmed when his beard tickled you, shoving halfheartedly on his shoulder but he didn’t budge. He pressed his lips against your pulse point and you knew that was it; he could definitely feel your racing pulse, there was no way he couldn’t.

“Well, it worked.” You replied belatedly, voice a lot weaker and shakier than you would’ve liked it to be.

Max didn’t say anything of it, though you could feel his lips move as he smiled into your throat.

“It did.” He confessed quietly, feeling your pulse jump beneath his lips. “I wanted to break Pierre’s fingers.”

He touched your shoulder where the Frenchman had previously touched you, like he was wiping off evidence of any man but himself. It made something coil tightly in your stomach, and you struggled to not squirm in your best friend’s lap.

“That would be unwise.” You whispered, glancing over at the house where there was no sign of life.

You didn’t know how you’d explain it away, if someone were to walk back out and find the two of you in this position. You, in his lap with your arm wound around his shoulder and Max under you, pressed so close in every way. It would certainly be hard to convince anyone you were just friends after this.

But you weren’t just friends. Friends didn’t touch you the way he did, with his hand stroking the skin over your collarbone, trailing a path down the cup of your tank top and feeling the swell of your breast. Your heart was thundering in your chest, eyes locked on his hand as it mapped out every inch of your skin; fingers stroking down between your tits before he opened the palm of his hand to slide it over your ribs, almost cupping your heaving chest. You almost wished that he did, every inch of your body aching to be defiled by the very same man you’d called your best friend for years.

“Breathe.” He murmured against your throat and you realised that you’d been holding your breath, a rush of air escaping your mouth as you willed yourself to relax.

“Max.” Your brows furrowed, arching your back a little and pushing your chest closer to him.

He said your name, the sound of it so beautifully intimate and hot on his tongue that it almost made you whine. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess in your head, making it hard for you to think of anything other than his hand. The very same hand that caressed your ribs, fingers spanning out until he brushed your nipple. You inhaled sharply at the twinge of pain when he went over it again, making out the shape of it through the thin material of your top and circling it teasingly just so he could hear your stuttered and laboured breaths.

“You sound so pretty for me.” He spoke against your skin, welcoming the twinge of pain when you pulled at his hair slightly.

The whispered compliment lit your body on fire, made your hand tighten in his hair so you could push his face against your neck. He seemed to get the memo, opening his mouth to latch onto the sensitive skin there and suck. The combination of suction and the sharp pain of his thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple made you moan, the loudness of the sound catching you off guard.

“Fuck!” You cursed when he rolled the bud between his fingers, enjoying the way you squirmed; like you weren’t sure whether to push into or away from him.

You glanced up at the sky, trying to focus on the light of the stars but there was no stopping the way your eyes rolled when he bit into your skin where he’d been sucking a nasty mark into it, flattening his tongue out to lave over it. Almost like he wanted to soothe the sting.

“This isn’t weird, is it?” You asked breathlessly, even though you both knew the answer to that.

“Does it feel weird?” He countered, pulling away and you blinked down at him; struck by the absolute need in his face.

It was the first time you’d seen his face since you sat down, taking in the saliva on his lip and the blown out pupils. He looked good enough to eat and you couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth the way you'd thought of doing for the last year.

He welcomed it with gusto, pulling away for a swift second to gauge your reaction. Max must’ve liked what he saw on your face because he dove right back, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss that had you moaning from your throat.

“Been thinking about this for a long time now.” Max confessed when you both let up for air, staring at each other through hooded lids and bruised lips.

“Me too.” You said, pushing his hair back softly. “So long.”

He kissed you again, like he couldn’t help it and you let him claim your lips however he pleased before he trailed down your jawline, sucking a few more hickeys down the side of your neck for good measure. You pushed your chest out when he neared the swell of them, watching how he pulled your top down just enough to get a better look at your tits.

Max stared at them, marvelling at the sight before the need to have his mouth on them became too great. A whimper tumbled from your lips when he sucked and licked until your skin turned raw, giving the other nipple the very same treatment.

“Oh, what the fuck?” A voice exclaimed and you jumped, turning to shield yourself from whoever had decided to turn up unannounced.

Max hurried to pull up your tank top, shooting you a glance before he leaned to the side and peered around you at the same time you looked over your shoulder. George had his back turned to you, one hand on his waist and face turned toward the sky. You couldn’t see his face, but the exasperation was clear as day in his body language.

“You guys are fucking gross.” He said and you bit your lips together to stop from laughing.

“What the fuck do you want, Russell?” Max asked, clearly annoyed that you’d been interrupted and you smoothed a thumb over the crease on his forehead.

“I forgot my phone, asshole.” He replied, agitated. “Are you guys decent?”

“Yes, you drama queen.” You rolled your eyes and watched him turn around.

There was a grimace etched on his face as he walked forward, sticking his hand down between the couch cushions until he fished out his phone. George stood upright, and there was a moment of awkwardness as you all looked at each other.

“Congratulations on finally coming to your senses.” He said finally, saluting you and walking backwards. “But please don’t shag on the patio furniture, we still have a week left and I don’t think Carlos would like an ass print on the cushions.”

“Why don’t you come over here and kiss my ass?” Max flipped him off with no real heat and you laughed.

“No thanks,” he grinned as he reached the sliding doors. “I’ll leave that to your girl.”

A silence filled the air after George made his exit and you slowly turned around, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of prodding questions that would surely come in the morning. George could never keep his mouth shut, enjoying chaos where it wasn’t necessary and you’d been friends with everyone long enough to know that it only took one person for word to spread like wildfire.

“It could’ve been worse.” Max said, who’d been sitting silently and regarding the faraway look in your eyes. It never ceased to amaze you how easily he could read you.

“Don’t remind me.” You widened your eyes at him, a smile overtaking your face when you saw the sparkle of humour in his eyes. “Maybe we should…”

You trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint because the sudden embarrassment kept you from finish the sentence. What would you even say? Maybe we should go to bed so we can finish what we started?

Max seemed to pick up what you were putting down, as he always did. He gave you a nod, face soft with reassurance as he cupped your face in his hand, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face.

“Are we good?” He asked, and you took a good look at him; noting the slight worry in his eyes and you realised that while he was reassuring you, he needed a little reassurance of his own.

You placed a hand over his, giving him a gentle nod with a smile. His eyes fluttered shut when you leaned over to peck his lips, placing a kiss on his stubbled cheek for good measure.

“We’re more than good.” You gave another nod, climbing out of his lap and reaching both your hands out so he could grab them. “Take me to bed, Max.”

He made a show of groaning loudly until you laughed, hauling him up and dragging him across the lawn. You preened under his wandering hands as he crowded your space from behind, plastering his front to your back and winding his arms around you.

“Stop that.” You hissed when he buried his face in the crook of your neck, making loud and lewd noises until it tickled you.

“But you’re so soft.” He complained, sliding both hands up your sides and under your top, fingers grazing your under boob.

You squirmed but made no real effort to push him away, opening the sliding doors and walking inside with a little difficulty. The both of you got as far as the living area before Max turned you around and kissed you, rendering you useless to stop him or protest. You could feel his mouth stretch into a smirk, like he knew what he was doing and you didn’t have the heart to make any effort to scold him even as he backed you into the sofa. A loud yelp left your lips when the backs of your knees hit the sofa, accompanied by his startled shout when you both went tumbling down on the furniture with him over you.

“That wasn’t nearly as sexy as they make it out to be in the movies.” You complained, watching Max smile down at you. He adjusted the both of you until you had your legs around him, testing the waters by grinding down on you and your mouth dropped open when you felt the hardness of his cock against your crotch. “Oh, hello.”

Max exhaled, like he was relieved to finally take some pressure off by grinding against you and you angled your hips to meet his thrusts, keeping your eyes on his to watch as his face went through a hundred of different emotions. You were struggling though, the rough denim of his shorts against your cotton ones felt deliciously nice and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep quiet.

“I’d sometimes lie awake and imagine what you’d sound like.” Max murmured quietly, teeth bearing down on his lower lip when you gripped his shoulders a little harder. He ground down, listening to you whine high in your throat. “I’d fantasise what you looked like when you came.”

You dug your heels into his ass, silently telling him to keep going because a few minutes more of his incessant thrusting and he’d have you coming. Max kissed down your jawline, sucking tiny little marks into the skin that he knew you’d give him shit for when your mind had cleared, but it was the thought of your friends seeing your bruised skin that worked him up into a frenzy. He wanted, needed to show everyone that you were his. Fuck Pierre and his wandering hands, and Daniel who’d smugly smiled at him from across the paddock all those times.

He’d show them.

“You gonna make that reality, my love?” He was getting close, voice losing its edge as he spoke the words into your clavicle. He bit the thin skin there until you keened, digging your blunt nails into his shoulders. “Gonna show me what you look like when you come?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” your words were becoming jumbled, making these high noises from your chest that seized Max by the throat.

He didn’t think you were even aware of how loud you were becoming, but he’d be damned to stop you. It reminded him of the same noises you’d make when you’d take a quick dip into a cold ocean and he’d splash you just for the sake of it. You’d make this high pitched, whiny noise like the chill of the water took your breath away. It was mesmerising and so fucking hot that Max couldn’t help but grind down one last time and shoot off into his shorts, a throaty moan in your ear that sent you over the edge as well.

He forced himself to watch your face as it scrunched up, mouth hanging open as you gasped for breath, body seized up beneath him as you both ground against each other in an effort to bring you back down from your highs.

“Fuck, this is gross.” Max scrunched his nose up as he looked down between you. You peered down with a breathless giggle, noting the spot in his shorts that had seeped onto yours.

He looked up at you at the sound of your laughter, face relaxing when he saw your smiling eyes and hot cheeks. The sun had been good to you, kissing your skin so beautifully that he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you for a second since you got here.

“I can’t believe we just humped like a couple of teens.” You said it with laughter in your voice, but Max could spot the shy tilt of your brows and there was something oddly endearing about it. "In Carlos's family home." You said the last part in a mortified whisper, like the reality of it was dawning on you.

“Should’ve done that sooner.” He joked and you laughed, slapping his shoulder.

Max dropped his weight on you as sudden exhaustion seeped into his body, and you grunted. You wound your arms around him though, ignoring the messes you’d made between you for the sake of a cuddle. Your fingers drew little patterns on his back, like you knew Max loved, and he almost purred at the feeling.

“We should probably go to bed.” You said quietly.

“Yeah.” He said, but neither of you made any effort to move.

The grandfather clock was ticking away in the corner, almost like background music, and you were almost lulled to sleep by Max’s steady breathing. Your eyes opened when he suddenly moved above you, having sensed that you were two seconds from falling asleep when your hands stopped moving on his back.

“Okay,” he sighed heavily and stood up with a grimace, wobbling a little. You smiled slowly when he offered you his hands, pulling you up. “Time for bed.”

“I’m getting déjà vu.” You referred to an hour ago when you’d declared bedtime, only to end up a few meters away on the couch instead.

Max laughed, pulling you along toward the stairs and guiding you down a narrow hallway.

The morning after went as well as you’d imagine, waking up with Max snoozing quietly on his stomach with his hands shoved underneath the pillow. You’d ghosted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to get ready for the day. Sharing a room with Max during all the years had made you stealthy enough to perform your routines without him waking up, but it could also be because he slept like a rock and not even pans and pots in the hands of Lando and Daniel could bring him out of his dead sleep.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Daniel greeted you when you stepped foot into the kitchen, pulling everyone’s eyes toward you and you smiled awkwardly.

“Hi? Hey.” You carefully avoided George’s eyes as you walked around the counter, patting Heidi on the back in a silent greeting.

The look she gave you had your hackles rising a bit, but you pushed the paranoia away because surely George hadn’t gone and blabbed already? It was only - you looked at the clock - nine in the morning. Christ.

Charlotte handed you a mug of steaming coffee and you wordlessly took it, taking a small sip. “Thank you.”

Conversation picked back up again as you went on the hunt for toast, popping them in the toaster and pouring another cup of coffee for Max who’d probably woken up by now. Francisca talked about the boutique you’d be going to, waving Pierre off with a playful hand when he tried to invite himself into your girls day.

There was a slight lull in the chaos of three conversations happening in the space of the kitchen, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Max had finally joined the party. You turned your head and almost smiled at his hair, wet from a shower and sticking up in all directions. He looked sleepy still, a little bleary eyed but he still managed to find you in the gaggle of people.

It warmed your heart a lot more than you’d like to admit when you watched his eyes light up as they settled on you, murmuring good morning’s and patting backs as he made a beeline for you.

You smiled at him. “Morning.”

Max accepted the mug of coffee you handed him, kissing your cheek in thanks and you leaned into it automatically. It was scary how fast you’d gotten used to his affection, but it felt so natural that you couldn’t bring yourself to question it.

“You look beautiful.” He complimented you, hand finding the hem of your dress to pluck at it with his fingers.

It was a plain old summer dress in white, one you’d worn a couple of times but it was Max’s favourite piece. It made your legs look amazing, and he was slightly mourning the thought of having to let you go out with the girls and not being able to ogle you openly.

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him.

“Is anyone gonna address the elephant in the room?” Lando spoke out, bringing the both of you out of your bubble you’d managed to create.

You turned around to look at the nosy group, rolling your eyes at your friend.

“Isn’t it clear?” Pierre balled up leftover bread from a loaf and chucked it at the Brit from across the table.

Charles frowned, glancing at you before looking over at his girlfriend who was smiling a little too brightly for your liking.

“Am I missing something?” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked at you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

“You’re not.” You said, playfully glaring at your friends. “They’re just being idiots.”

George coughed, dodging an incoming slap to the arm from Carmen. Just that one gesture let you know that Carmen was aware of what had happened last night.

“Tell that to Carlos’ furniture.” He muttered but it was enough for Carlos to look up, frown deep in his face as his round eyes looked between George, you and Max.

“What?” He asked, confusion lacing his voice. “What did you say?”

Max coughed, hiding a laugh as he turned around to pick up his mug of coffee. You shot Kika a look that screamed help me and she didn’t even hesitate to hop up from the barstool and nod at the girls.

“Everyone ready?” She asked, earning a few replies as they gathered up their things for a day in town. "Vamos."

You watched in amusement before turning to Max, not really in the mood to leave him and he seemed to share those feelings, judging by the look on his face. His eyes flickered across your face, like he was trying to memorise it and you leaned into him.

“I’ll see you later?” He asked, like it was ever a question, watching you nod. He handed you the toast you’d prepared, giving you a look. “Eat up before you go.”

You tried to act like that small gesture didn’t make your heart absolutely crumble into ashes, not having the strength to refrain yourself from standing on your toes to press a kiss to his mouth.

“What the fuck?” Came Charles’ voice from somewhere and you laughed into Max’s lips before pulling back.

Max gave your behind a small pat and you turned around to leave the kitchen, thinking that you couldn’t wait to be back home.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smut #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 fluff #f1 imagine

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winwintea · 7 months ago

Text

dreamies as your flight seatmate + ratings

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader

TAGS ▸ none, crack, established relationship, haechans is the worst someone drop him out of the plane please

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸inspired by an insta post i saw for 127 and thought the dreamies deserved their own version.

Mark Lee

mark and you have 3 hours on this flight, so get ready for 3 hours of straight yapping from mark lee himself. he’s gonna show you pictures he has saved on his phone and goes into every single detail about the photo. you honestly just want to chill and listen to music, but if it seems like he’s given up, 5 minutes later he’ll bring up another subject. even if you’re gonna try to fall asleep he’ll wake you up, “yo, did you hear what i just said?” and you can’t get mad at him, who wants to see him sad? (4/10 seatmate, sometimes cooks, most of the time idk what he’s talking about)

Huang Renjun

renjun is probably one of those insane people on planes. he can get through the whole flight not talking to a single person, not listening to any music at all, not even looking out the window, just staring straight forward, lost in his own thoughts. if the flight map is available he’ll watch it for fun, otherwise he can pretty much entertain himself for however long the flight is. renjun would even read the safety manual for fun??? however if you needed him for anything, or if you wanted to watch a movie he’d be down you just need to ask, otherwise he’s gonna be in his own zone. (6/10 seatmate since he’s insane, but points only bc he’ll do anything if you ask him too)

Lee Jeno

jeno would be in your personal space, BUT IT’S NOT HIS FAULT DON’T BLAME HIM. he’d take up the armrests too but that’s because his arms are so big… and you wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable. and lowkey you’re fine with the personal space invasion thing too cause he smells good. (you’re coping) and maybe during the middle of the flight he’ll put the armrest up and hold you in a big hug, just so you can feel more comfortable cause he feels bad for taking up so much room. “i hope this is comfortable enough for you, it’s just a few more hours, you can take a nap on my shoulder or legs if you want” (7/10 seatmate, he feels bad and i would feel guilty if i gave him anything under a 6)

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is an armrest hogger… and he doesn’t even need to. instead of talking to you though, he’ll be on his phone the whole entire trip, watching tiktoks OUT LOUD on his phone. you honestly wanted to watch a movie with him, but you aren't even going to consider it now. and when you catch him peeking over your shoulder trying to watch whatever tv show you’re watching, you give him an annoyed look, and turn the device so you can’t see him. (-127/10 seatmate, just wait until he takes off his shoes cause then you’re both getting kicked off by the stewardess)

Na Jaemin

jaemin is the embodiment of the BEST seatmate ever. he’s always checking in on you, making sure you have ample leg room, let’s you use the armrests even if you don’t want to. he brought a whole bunch of snacks to for you two to share and snack on. downloaded a bunch of movies and tv shows for the ride, but if you don’t want to watch a movie, that’s fine. want to sleep? he brought a neck pillow. want to just talk? he can do that. (10/10 seatmate this is why i have high standards in men)

Zhong Chenle

chenle’s company could either go one or two ways. one, he could spend the whole entire flight watching the basketball game with the third person in your row that somehow was also a golden state warriors fan? to which… fuck him cause how tf did you become a third wheel? or two, he and you spend the whole entire flight just shit talking the other passengers on the plane with each other. chenle and you would probably be whispering to each other and giggling away. (3/10 cause the first outcome is more likely. we know even if there’s no other person to watch it with, as long as there’s a game on he’s watching.)

Park Jisung

jisung… it’s a little too quiet… and a little too tense. the mood is almost way too awkward? “jisung… you can talk to me you know?” you turn towards him, and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “oh i wasn’t sure if you… wanted to talk or… maybe you were gonna sleep-“ you shush him with your finger, and lay your head upon his shoulder. His whole body begins to relax and he no longer feels cooped up in the seat like he was at first, “Whatever we do, let’s do it together alright?” (8/10 seatmate, very awkward, originally it’s way too close for his comfort but he gets into it and will do anything you want <3)

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months ago

Note

15 with Eddie? :)

i woke up this morning, rolled over, and immediately wrote this all on my phone. wasn't even 8 am and i was already all mushy and horny for this man. enjoy whatever this is (morning sex. it's morning sex and being in love) <3

15. "I had a very nice dream that started like this."

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), afab reader but no pronouns used, a lot of religious imagery idk why it just... worked?, not edited, 18+ so minors do not interact

pairings: eddie munson x afab!reader

wc: 2.9k+

join the smutty party! send me one of these smut dialogue prompts with a character

The sun hadn’t even rose yet. The sky simply lighter, a gentle omniscient light peaking through the curtains, holding little to no warmth yet when you first awoke. The room is shades of grey with hints of violet, soft pinks just on the horizon but not quite painting the scene.

It’s nice — it’s serene.

You can feel him breathing behind you. Still there, still warm, still holding you with one strong arm around your waist as his nose brushes at the nape of your neck, his snore rustling your hair ever so carefully. It’s almost enough to soothe you back to sleep; counting his deep intakes of air, exhaling in time with him, sinking deeper into bed sheets that are stained with the smell of his cologne and shampoo. Almost.

But when you first awake, you have a different idea in mind.

It starts off innocent enough. Small movements as you press yourself further back into Eddie, minuscule wiggles to just be close to him. You’re still half asleep and yet, every atom in your body is desperate to melt into him. You need every inch of his skin pressed tightly into yours. Your vision still blurry, but the instinct to burrow more tightly into your boy impossible to miss.

“I know you’re awake,” he suddenly murmurs into your neck, voice muffled and rough with his rest.

You hadn’t even noticed the change in his breathing. More focused on the ache between your thighs that you had woken up with.

“Sh,” you jokingly whisper, smiling as you force your eyes back closed. He can’t even see your face, but it feels right to put on an act, “You’re gonna ruin it, Munson.”

“‘M not ruining anything, baby,” he nearly slurs. His arm tightens around you, encouraging all your squirming, pulling your hips back to be flush with his a little more urgently.

He’s hard against your lower back. His flimsy boxers do nothing to hide his excitement. It isn’t particularly surprising — most mornings he wakes up hard as it is — but it does cause a soft stirring within you. Encourages your hips to swivel once more, action a bit more pointed, just enough pressure to cause a low groan to slip almost inaudible from between his lips.

“Careful,” he warns, voice a bit louder now. His tone is still gravely, scratching an itch of the farthest reaches of your mind. Somewhere between a cat’s purr and the sound of tires on dirt roads when your favorite person is returning home. Comforting. Serene.

You press into him further, shamelessly grinding now, eyes still shut, “What? ‘M not doing anything.”

He doesn’t need to see your voice to hear that sleepy grin.

It doesn’t happen quickly — there’s no rush as he slowly tugs at your body, encouraging you to rotate so that he’s no longer spooning you. Your back digs into the mattress holding the warmth of his body from the entire night, wrapping you up in a bliss that’s impossible to replicate. His smell, his warmth, his presence. You don’t think you’ll ever tire of mornings like this, especially not when you finally open your eyes to find him propped up on his elbow, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes and a half-smile that accentuates his left dimple.

He’s fucking beautiful. It takes your breath away.

“What’s got you so excited this morning, hm?”

The light has grown ever so slightly brighter, just enough as though it whispers, look at him. The room is still grey, but your boy is a vision of colors. Dark russet eyes with streaks of gold that the sun couldn’t compare to, chestnut hair that sticks up in all the wrong places from his slumber, skin that washes out in the pale winter morning and only makes the contrast of the soft fuchsias and violets blooming along his neck from the evening before more apparent. He’s softer than any sunrise, more relaxing than any bath he’s ever drawn for you, more calming than hearing your favorite song strummed out on muted guitar strings.

You love him. And that only really fuels your flames.

“I had a very nice dream,” you mumble, squinting up at him, bringing a hand up to his cheek. Your touch is delicate as you trace over his stubble, painting mindless patterns briefly before cupping the full side of his face and threading your fingertips into the edges of his hairline, “A very nice dream that started just like this.”

He rolls his hips against your side, peering down at you as he does so, letting you guide him closer until his lips barely brush yours.

You can hear birds chirping outside. There’s the rumble of a truck engine. The creak of a nearby front door opening and shutting.

The world is beginning to wake up, but you’re not quite yet ready to share the day with anyone but him.

“You did, did you?” he’s awake enough now to tease you, body slowly inching its way over yours, arms on either side of your head to hold his weight. The plush comforter slips down, exposing his bare shoulders as his torso serves as your new blanket, “Tell me ‘bout it, baby.”

Your legs fall open instinctively, making a home for him and only him. A space between your thighs perfectly carved out for the shape and weight of him as he slips into place, hips digging into yours, a homely and familiar position you’ve found yourself in a hundred times before.

It never gets old. It never elicits any less of a reaction from you, always pulling the softest of gasps from your throat as he leans his head down to trail his lips down your exposed neck.

The sound has him pulling you into him a bit more urgently, but his pace never quickens. He’s taking his time. You two have all the time.

A car alarm, distant as could be, sounds off. A voice of a neighbor echos across the trailer park.

Maybe it’s an adoring husband wishing goodbye to his wife for the day. Or a mother, rushing her children for school. There’s a million and one scenarios, thousands of strangers beginning their dreary week, but you only care about the warm welcome of the day that he offers you.

Anything but dreary, even in tired morning light.

“You were kissing my neck,” you say, careful to be as silent as can be, even if it were just the two of you in the room. The world doesn’t need to know you’re awake yet; it doesn’t deserve your attention like he does yet.

His teeth graze unintentionally against the soft spot below your ear, “Like this?”

“Just like that.”

For emphasis, you lift your hips, seeking out his with ease. You can feel him, pronounced as he presses against the thin fabric of your underwear. There’s too many layers between the two of you, too much cotton and linen in the shapes of his t-shirt you’d worn to bed and his damn boxers, but they’ll come off eventually.

Eventually. There’s no rush.

Your head tilts back in a sigh, and he pauses all his kisses to ask, “What next?”

“Keep going,” you squirm, hips continuing to roll, flames of desire lighting in your gut, dancing as soft as the morning light, “Keep going, please.”

The night before, he would have teased your desperation.

But right now, with just you and him and the ghost of sleep, he’s not in the business of taunting.

He listens, a hand coming down to your hip. Not holding it down to the mattress, but simply holding. He lets his thumb slip beneath the t-shirt, lets a rough callous built up from years of guitar and working on his van brush roughly over your skin with the most sensitive of intentions.

Slowly. If the morning wasn’t so heavy still on the two of you, weighing down every movement, slowing every reaction and pacing every adoring kiss, this is the part where the two of you might have grown a bit impatient. More nipping, more bruising gripping, more complaints of going further, further, further.

But today? In this moment? The two of you have time.

A dream sequence of his wandering hands slipping that old faded tee up until it’s finally bunched at your chest, until he’s finally peeling himself away from your body and he’s lifting it over your head. Every move is brimming with a love you never thought possible. A love to swim in, a love to sink into. One with the capability to drown the two of you, but it only breathes a new life into both of your lungs.

When his lips wrap around a nipple and your back arches, that love thrums a bit deeper, coiling up your insides and urging your fingers to tangle up into his curls.

You need him closer.

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your skin as he mouths at it, “So, so fucking beautiful.”

The back of your skull digs deeper into a pillow engrained with the shape of your head from years of rest, a soft laugh slipping in between your blissful breaths, “Don’t lie. I’m a mess right now.”

You were. And so was he. In a barely awake, subtle and tired way. Messy hair, messy marks of sleep across cheeks, messy breaths not yet minty from a morning routine the two of you followed like a religion.

His head lifts, eyes glowing in the limited light, “I like your mess. As a matter of fact, I love your mess.”

His hand on your hip squeezes for emphasis.

You look down, wordless as you drink him in. A vision between the pinks dancing through the curtains, a godly presence as the dawn breaks. He’s a salvation, a new beginning and a new ending. He’s everything fairytales had tried to convince you existed in your youth. Prettier than any angel, warmer than any sun.

And he’s yours. In this moment, and in all the next ones.

“I think I can make an even bigger mess of you, though, if you’ll let me,” a devilish smile finally overtakes his features and both of those dimples you’ve become so unintentionally fond of make an appearance.

He dips his head, lowers his voice, lets his lips explore. You nearly pray to the Heavens above as you feel his hand slip from its gentle cupping of your hip, moving to slip nimble fingers beneath the band of your panties — but you don’t. Not a single God would care about what’s happening right now.

Just two people, two souls, twisting up in their bed sheets. Finding each other, finding divinity, before the sun even has a chance to stretch its arms fully over the horizon.

When he sinks lower and his face disappears beneath the cloak of the comforter, you hold your breath. When his mouth finds your cunt over fabric, you release it with a moan.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, both hands pulling off your underwear, pressing a hard kiss one final time over the cotton before he slips them off, “Keep making those pretty noises for me.”

Your thighs drape over his shoulders, heels digging into his back as he begins his morning worship. All lips and tongue and finding the right places as fast as possible. Not out of a rush, but out of practice. He knows your body like the back of his hand, and he proves it.

He knows exactly how hard to suck on your clit once he’s captured it between his lips. He knows exactly where to trace his tongue, circling your hole in lazy circles, not quite teasing but not quite succumbing as he lets you buck your hips in reckless abandon. When to speed up, when to slow down, when to add a finger and when to let the gravel of his voice vibrate against your core — he knows you. Through every little whimper, through every soft chanting of his name, through every tug of his hair.

And he knows you well enough to know when to stop his ministrations, pulling back only to crawl his way back up your body, his boxers slipping off somewhere in the process.

You’re still all over his lips as he kisses you fervently, slick and sticky and a little tart as his tongue dives into your mouth.

And just as he knows you, you know him.

You’d lied, of course. You hadn’t really had a dream just like this. You can’t even remember how you’d awoken with such want, but all that mattered is you had. You’d woken up to an all-consuming need, even if your half-conscious state, and you’d woken up to him.

Your hand reaches down between the two of you, wrapping around him carefully. Your skin is still cooler than his, it’s always cooler than his in the dead of night, and he hisses at the content.

“I love you, you know?” you quietly confess to your lover, as though it might be a sin, as though it might be the greatest secret to ever be held on a patient tongue.

His skin is nearly velvet under your touch, pliant in your palm as you stroke him. Each movement and twist of your wrist begins to unravel him, his head dropping to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. Every pant of his breath brushes skin just as his snores had.

Gold litters the shade of sunrise entering the room, but the only warm colors you care to entertain are the ones in his eyes as he finally looks at you and tugs your hand away.

“I love you more.”

You could argue. You could fight him on it, start to rattle off your list of all the things you adore about him, prove that no one has ever loved another person in this lifetime the way that you’ve loved him. The freckle below his right eye, the chip in on of his canines from an accident in his youth, the scar on his left knuckles from the first time he’d tried to do a trick with a butterfly knife at nine years old. The jokes he interrupts your day so kindly with, breaking up the mundane with laughter that seemingly fuels you to carry on with your time until you’ve returned home to just him. The passion that flows inside of him until it pours out over everything sacred to him — his music, his interests, his friends, you. A passionate and devoted man, yours to have and yours to hold.

But you don’t argue the point. You just smile as he kisses you, deep and searching, as he lines himself up with your entrance.

He loves you more, you love him most. He’ll figure it out — eventually.

The stretch of him is pleasurable, just like it always is. Filling you, warming you, making that closer you crave so ardently nearly tangible. Every roll of his hips has him reaching spots inside of you to elicit stars to cloud your vision. The morning light, the white hot pleasure — you don’t care what makes your vision blue. You only care that it does, all your mews and all his groans entangling up in the air.

Your palms slide over the back of his shoulders, your fingers dig into soft skin that you’ll spend the rest of your days memorizing.

Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

No prayer has ever been repeated with such need or belief as his name from your lips.

And he returns the favor. Gasping out your name, somehow finding himself just enough in his right mind to continue to whisper sweet nothings against your ear, timing them with his leisurely thrusts.

“So fucking tight and so fucking good to me,” he manages to gasp, digging his hips in a little harsher, “Could stay here forever. Kind of want to stay here forever.”

You don’t know how he’s coherent; you can’t form a single response, eyes rolling, hands clinging to him tighter.

“Look at me when you cum.”

He knows you. He knows you very well. You hadn’t even noticed that coiling in your stomach or the fluttering of your walls when he calls you out, forehead pressing to yours as your eyes open to find his.

It’s not world-shattering when the waves come — it doesn’t have to be. It’s something to wrap around your entire essence, something to soothe and something to coax you into oblivion. Something to get lost in as his movements stutter and his own eyes grow heavy.

He doesn’t close his eyes, and neither do you. Lost in that pleasure, and lost in each other.

You’re still rhythmically clenching around him when he comes, filling you up with warmth, burying deep in you and holding there as his mouth falls open and you're quick to pepper his outstretched neck with kisses. The smallest reminders of all the love you have for him. The gentlest of devotions, sprinkled across the skin of a man who will always know an affection like no other. Not everyone in the world will be so lucky as to know the fondness you offer him, and as far as you’re concerned, that’s how it should be.

Curses spill as his movements slow, before finally stilling. He drops his weight onto you, exhaustion finding its way back into his bones.

There’s things to do, a day to begin. Work and people waiting on you two, responsibilities to worry about and daily mundane accomplishments to achieve. But for now, it’s just the two of you. Awake with the rest of the world, but completely separate as you cradle him and he holds you.

“That was one Hell of a way to wake up, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your skin, and you only throw your head back in a laugh.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

join my taglist!

#ghost's stories #smutty party #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #i just really like the idea of waking up to eddie #especially like this #i wrote this half asleep so it might not be the best my brain wasn't really working #i just needed to write it out before work and before i got out of bed #the run on sentences in this one are strong

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arcaneauthor · 3 months ago

Note

would u be able to do han jisung cute things he does as your bf?

Cute things Han does as your bf

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, just Han being a lovable dork basically, I’m so bad at tags idk

Warnings: mentioned anxiety, mentioned kissing ig?? Apparently I’m bad at warnings too

Author’s note: As someone who fully believes there is not near enough Han fics on this app I’m so glad you requested this. Hope you like it!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He’s tried on multiple occasions to cook these extravagant meals to surprise you with when you get home but they almost always end up with you coming through the door to the smell of something burning as Han panickedly scrambles around the kitchen. And the times it’s not immediately went up in flames, it’s mostly inedible.

His face always turns beat red the moment you both take that first bite and he watches as you struggle to try to act like it’s good in order to save his feelings before you both just in the long run decide take-out is the best option.

As we all know Han himself has pretty bad social anxiety which means he knows the signs very well. So he’ll be the first to notice when you’re feeling anxious or your social battery drains. He’ll start rubbing your back or put a hand on your thigh to try to comfort you without drawing too much unwanted attention to your current condition knowing that will just make it worse, or if it gets really bad he’ll excuse y’all and make up some kind of excuse as to why you have to leave.

This of course makes you feel bad and start apologizing to which he immediately assures you it’s completely fine and laugh it off about how it was a boring party anyway. (It wasn’t. He was actually planning on staying another hour or two but he would never tell you that)

Always so adorably clumsy. Like there’s been multiple instances where he’s leaned in for a kiss too enthusiastically and you’ve bumped foreheads. His boba eyes turn so round as he immediately starts spewing apologizes, frantically checking your forehead for a mark at which you just start chuckling at the absurdity and cuteness of your boyfriend. Which in turn makes him laugh and then it’s just so contagious that y’all both start cackling.

As Han himself has stated, he is a very bad impulsive buyer. Which means he will literally buy you presents like every other day. It’s to the point where you have to very kindly tell him that even though you loved his gifts, if he kept buying them so frequently he would end up broke lol

Makes it Tea time all the time. Girl I’m telling you spill the tea to this man at every possible moment, he 👏eats 👏it 👏up👏. Literally the best to gossip with.

He sets up little date nights at the house for you since you’d both rather stay in together most of the time anyway. Though these “date nights” usually end up looking like what people would normally picture as a “girls night” lol. Face masks, cups of tea, kdrama playing, etc. but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Neck kisses. Just-yeah

Constantly cracking cheesy jokes around you just cause he loves making you laugh.

Play wrestles with you which then somehow turns into a tickle fight as you both are giggling like children. Grabs you up by the waist when you try to escape him. “Oh no I’m not done with you yet.” You’re kicking your legs trying to get free while still laughing so hard tears are coming out your eyes.

Loves to take you on little one day trips when he has time. Not to some busy tourist spot but just some isolated scenic routes or something. Just you and him, windows down with music playing softly in the background as he locks his hand with yours. Just enjoying each other’s company as you gaze at the beautiful world around you

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

End notes: so this one kind of got out of hand lol but it’s not my fault this man has been bias wrecking me so hard lately😖

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #skz x reader #skz scenarios #han jisung fluff #han jisung headcanons #skz headcanons #skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fluff #fluffy #headcanon #kpop

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trsrina · 9 months ago

Text

valentine’s day with zerobaseone

gn reader, established relationship, fluff !! mentions of food, not proofread

jiwoong

- even after being in a relationship with jiwoong for some time now, you still kick your feet and get all excited when you receive your yearly valentine’s surprise from him

- sends a box of chocolates and a bouquet of blue roses to your workplace in the middle of the day with a love letter in it (probably some cheesy love poem he racked his brain to come up with and feels very proud of)

- it will probably be something like “roses are red. my face is too. that only happens when i’m around you” written with crayons and decorated with silly childish stickers and doodles ,and you had to resist letting out the loudest laugh ever at that since you were still at work

other members under the cut!

zhanghao

- sorry but YOU have to ask him to be your valentine, not the other way around and you have to do it fast before anyone else (hanbin) snatches him away from you

- no but seriously he would’ve cleared out his entire schedule for that day just to spend it all with you going out just idk eating at some cute but overpriced café (don’t worry, he pays), shopping and just gossiping over some coffee

- ends the day with a night stroll at a park with your hands intertwined and swinging by your sides maybe feed some ducks you saw while chatting the night away and just giggling to each other about something silly. it was simple but meant so much to the both of you

hanbin

- this is so serious for him like no one takes valentine’s day as serious as him so he makes sure to give you princess treatment throughout the whole day

- you wake up to the sound of a grizzling pan and smelling the aroma of the breakfast he’s preparing for you and damn this man CAN cook. serves you a five course meal at 8 am in the morning with like heart-shaped pancakes and eggs like this man is not real (sorry i just love domestic hanbin)

- after breakfast, you two return to bed since you were still feeling sleepy. he cuddles you to sleep, your head buried in his chest and literally clinging onto him, him with his arms tightly wrapped around you in a comforting embrace, gently patting you to sleep as he leaves small pecks all around your face and he probably has even more stuff planned later in the day

matthew

- matthew biggest green flag. spent so long planning the perfect valentine’s date for you and surprised you with a romantic picnic at the beach. he even sets up a table and chairs for the both of you, made sure all the food was perfect

- i can envision him covering your eyes during the walk from the car to the beach then surprising you. pulls out your chair for you and pushes your hair behind your ear and when you ask why he’ll say, “just wanted to take a better look at your pretty face”

- makes you giggles at his jokes the whole time and at last, gives you a final surprise which was an adorable cake with ‘happy valentine’s day’ written on it with icing that he spent the majority of yesterday making for you (u have no idea how many times he had to redo it)

taerae

- he serenades you. that would be the most taerae thing to do like seriously. he would start planning since christmas, writing a whole love song for you, him writing and composing it for you all by himself

- he would be so nervous when the day arrives. he would take you out to a nice restaurant, surprising you with flowers and all, then when the both of you return home, he sits you down on the couch and takes out his guitar

- starts strumming and you’re like, “i don’t recognise this song?” and realises that he wrote it and it took everything in you to not start crying on the spot. serenades you with his honey-like sweet voice while looking into your eyes like a lovesick man, literally making heart eyes at you and smiling like an idiot

ricky

- sends you a text in the morning which reads, “morning, baby. happy valentine’s day. i reserved a table at xxx restaurant for us at 6 pm. i’ll pick you up at 5:30 pm. i love you.”

- the moment you receive that text you start giggling and kicking your feet while burying your face into your pillow, only ricky can make you feel this way.

- you dress up for him and the moment you see him, he’s leaning against his car in a button up with the first few buttons unbuttoned and a huge bouquet of flowers. holds your hand the whole time, during the ride and dinner, listens intently to all of your rambling during the whole of dinner and also pays !!! (bc he’s young and rich)

gyuvin

- rings your doorbell enthusiastically with flowers and gifts dressed in his best attire, fixing his hair every few seconds to make sure he looks perfect for you. shyly hands you the bouquet he arranged himself when you open the door

- he would drag you to a dog café for your date and he’s most likely even more excited about this than you, just looking at the bright grin on his face and the giggles he lets out while he plays with the puppies makes a smile appear on your face too

- would probably point at every dog and says it looks like you because it’s cute just like you. no but imagine you guys sharing a pasta together and accidentally recreating the lady and the tramp scene omg

gunwook

- bowling date with gunwook omg okay his jaw will literally drop the moment he sees you arrive all dressed up like he thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and won’t stop giggling and blushing every time he glances at you

- pays for everything and takes the chance to show off his skills in bowling. coolest guy ever just the way he confidently strikes the bowling pins with the bowling ball but gets so shy and blush when you cheer for him and compliment him

- and when you’re getting food together at a restaurant, he would not stop staring at you. his head propped up on his hand as he stares at you hopelessly, utterly lost in your eyes and down bad. he’s the type to wipe your mouth for you when you have something on the corner of your lips.

yujin

- your first valentine’s day together so he would be so anxious about it and shy. he would make sure everything goes smoothly and plans it all out like buying tickets to that movie you said you wanted to watch in advance and making reservations for a restaurant you mentioned you wanted to visit before (most likely the first time he ever made a reservation by himself in his lifetime)

- takes you to the movies and insists on paying for your popcorn and drinks. probably watching some cheesy romcom together and since it’s valentine’s day, you’re surrounded with couples which just makes him even shyer

- holds your hand and whispers silly comments about the movie in your ear throughout the movie. he couldn’t focus at all because you were right beside him

short little valentine’s headcanons that i rushed to make it on time 😓

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live-laugh-legolas · 2 months ago

Note

FOR UR FELLOWSHIP REQUEST THING maybe the fellowship with an depressed reader? like how each of them would treat the reader (i wanted to go for su1c1d@l but idk if ur chill with it(ONLY IF U WANNA))

Remember that you are not alone so please reach out for help. There are hotlines to call/text if you are struggling, suicidal, or in a crisis

My messages are always open if you want to talk but I am no replacement for professional help and support of your loved ones

The fellowship x depressed!reader

Aragorn:

-He recognizes the signs quickly

-I imagine he’s had his bouts of depression

-He definitely takes a very gentle approach

-Offering a shoulder and an ear

-He’s kinda an unpaid and unlicensed therapist

-He gives lots of tips on how to keep going in your daily life

-For some people depression is kind of a way of life; you have to learn to live with it

Legolas:

-He doesn’t fully understand at first

-To elves, depression is really only experienced after loss

-So to have it chronically is a new concept to him

-He’s remorseful that you feel so low and he knows there isn’t much he can do

-But he will try

-He will force you to get up and out of bed, even if he has to throw you over his shoulder to get you some fresh air

-He will constantly point out little beautiful things to be grateful for; little joys

-Maybe it’s the smell of dawn or crunchy fall leaves

-Or maybe it’s him; he is very insistent that you would miss him most

Gimli:

-I literally love this dwarf so much; he would be such a cutie that you can’t help but smile at him

-Like he is so gentle and patient with you; which is saying something because dwarves are not patient beings

-He isn’t someone who will beat around the bush though; he will very bluntly tell you your worth and why he and everyone else needs and wants you around

-He gets you involved in anything he can

-Is it against your will? Maybe

-But I’ve found I sometimes end up feeling a little better and enjoy the time out even after I’ve bitched about it and my friend had to drag me out of the house by my hair

Boromir:

-Big brother mode is always active so he picks up on your subtle changes very fast

-Maybe even before you do

-He will tell you stuff like “even if you can’t, you must”

-Wether or not you find that helpful or not; just know he’s trying

-His experience with depression is seeing it with his soldiers

-And that’s the sort of thing he tells them so he just kinda hopes can be applied to you

-He is very action oriented; I think he may have a difficult time sympathizing with not feeling able to get up and do anything

-But damnit if he doesn’t try; he wants you to tell him everything so he can learn and be of better support

-He also gives the best hugs

Frodo:

-He is a very steady friend

-Like he’s not going anywhere; no matter how dark things look he’s still there with a torch

-He makes you go on walks like clockwork to give you some feeling of routine

-He always invites you over because if he can’t help he’s sure Bilbo can

-How can you be sad when talking to Bilbo?

-Well actually he talks a lot so maybe it’s a bit exhausting; but it’s a kind thought

Sam:

-So Sam wants to help so bad; the idea that he can’t fix it doesn’t sit well with him so he will keep trying

-He will help with tasks obviously because acts of service is his love language

-But I also imagine him trying to give comfort but not in the “let me hug you and you can cry on my shoulder way”

-More so in the “look at this photo of a piglet in rain-boots! You can’t be sad while looking at that!”

-Yes you can because that’s not how depression works but still; you put on a smile anyway because he’s just so adorable and he’s trying his best

-This may turn into a sort of “fake it till you make it” situation where eventually you may feel better from his antics

Merry:

-We know this hobbit likes to plan things and is always up for adventure with his friends

-And he’s basically Sherlock of the hobbits so you don’t have to say anything for him to read you like an open book

-He will set you a schedule and will hold you to it by joining you

-He’s not going to go easy on you ngl

-Not in a mean way; but he won’t give you a day to take a break and stay in bed

-Even if you have to half ass everything; you will be doing something

-“you don’t need to wash your hair but you do need to sit in this tub for at least 10 minutes”

-This can feel exhausting at the time and may make you snap at him sometimes but he’s determined because he loves you

-And sometimes tough love is the most helpful

Pippin:

-Can’t get out of bed?

-Don’t worry! Pippin won’t let you be lonely

-He won’t always drag you out of bed. Instead he will join you and talk your ear off

-He brings the “fun” to you

-With the hope that he will either annoy you so much you get up

-Or that his stories give you some level of intrigue to want to go out and see whatever it was he is talking about

Gandalf:

-This is a very old man, he’s seen depression in all states and forms

-He’s a quiet type of comfort

-He definitely says some vague poetic shit that isn’t necessarily helpful but it does have a meaningful lesson

-Offers his pipe

-He is also sort of they type that you are a little afraid to disobey

-Like if he tells you to get outside more; even if you don’t see him, he knows if you have or haven’t

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Idk how good this is. I personally do have depression so I know my own experiences with how it affects me, but it shows in different ways for everyone. In terms of comfort and support I’m not fully sure this does any justice, hopefully it’s a little comforting. I have a great support system but I’m notorious for being too stubborn to accept help. Don’t do that by the way, because eventually it will likely stop coming. Let your friends and family support you; it’s not out of pity; it’s because they care and want to help in anyway they can even if that just means checking to make sure you are alive each morning to let you know they are there.

Anyone can message me if they need someone to talk to. I’m no therapist or expert in any sense but I can be a friend :)

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damagedintellect · 4 months ago

Text

Alpha Fyodor x Omega Fem!Reader

💌 The Poetic Nature of the DOA Novelist: Chapter 1? 💌

Summary: You were hired as the DOA's novelist, usually Nikolai is your heat partner but sometimes Fyodor takes advantage of the fact that you are an omega

Notes: I'm drunk and on my period there's not enough omegaverse for me to consume so fuck I gotta wrtie me own ughhhh why caan;t my fingers hit the right letters.m I'll fix it when I'm sober. Sober me here fuck it I'm gonna keep it, I just can't be bothered

Fem!Omega reader bc it's self indulgent 🍋

💌 Word count: 2,540 💌 You are here | Chapter 2??? idk durnk me wants a part 2 but w/Nikolai 🍋

Your mind has been foggy all day and only seems to be getting worse by the hour. You’ve been staring blankly at the pen in your hands, unable to focus on finishing your current sentence. Last night you thought it was a fever but looking at the calendar you groaned. That's when the realization hits you, your heat came early and that's why you feel so out of it. You step into the hallway knocking on Nikolai's door. No response, there's a good chance the alpha was out. You pressed your head against the door.

This wasn't good.

You tried jiggling the knob but it was locked and there was no key, only Nikolai could open the door. You've tried to pick the lock before it doesn't work. That's what you hated the most. All you wanted was to make your nest but Nikolai hates when others go snooping through his things. Which was fair even though Fyodor and Sigma both respect each other's personal boundaries but Nikolai is Nikolai you supposed. Thinking about it, the alpha in question was the only one who has ever sifted through everyone's personal belongings. Besides the point without his body or even his scent you were starting to suffer. The curse of being an unmated omega.

You sniff the air trying to see if anyone else was around who would know when he'd be back. To your dismay it seems only Fyodor is here at the base. Go figure. Outside of recruitment you've never seen Fukichi or Bram around and now that Sigma has his casino to run, this has been the case more often than not. You hobble over to his door which was already open. He must not be busy at the moment otherwise he wouldn't let the others openly pester him. You knocked at the entrance before letting yourself in as he was typing away at his computer.

"I assume you're not that busy right now?" You glanced at his twelve monitors, unable to comprehend the mess displayed across the screens.

"Correct." He glanced over his shoulder "I assume your heat came early?"

"Correct. Can I sit in your lap until Nikolai gets back? I would ask for your blanket or pillow or something but I already know it wouldn't smell like alpha." He doesn't sleep in them most nights so why would they. Sure you could have asked for his ushanka but he wasn't wearing it strangely enough. You liked when he didn’t have his hat. His hair was beautiful. You want to run your fingers through it, maybe even braid it like Nikolai’s.

The alpha smirked, motioning you to take your seat. He must have planned this. There's a good chance he just sent Nikolai off to make you desperate. Normally Nikolai's schedule works around your heats perfectly and Fyodor's in charge of planning the timeline of events. What an asshole. It's a shame he's the only one who can help you right now. Honestly you want to be mad but your inner omega has a thing for this bastard.

You situated yourself so that you were facing Fyodor. He even went as far to lower his chair to help you get into his lap. Once comfortable you nuzzled into his neck breathing him in. Just the scent of the alpha alone was already making the dull ache dissipate. You were safe and protected and even though you know you were never in any danger your body needed the confirmation. Secondary genders suck.

When you were recruited as the novelist for the DOA Fyodor was quick to make it known he had no interest in helping with your heats but after Nikolai volunteered to be your heat partner you noticed Fyodor's almost taken aback expression. Then Fyodor's rut hit when you were the only one around. Which at the time was odd but thinking back surely he planned that too. He cornered you, had his way with you and you would hate to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot and that's a horrible thing to admit. You would have never expected to have a thing for the russian. It’s not like you were even an acquaintance, nor was he someone you despised. You were just here for the job and by technicalities he was your employer.

Fyodor was always cold and distant until he needed something, which from you was very rare. You could even say he seemed kind of bored and aloof until you got him talking about his master plans but even then he kept the details to a minimum. However after being forced to spend his rut with him your view of Fyodor started shifting. There was something about how assertive he was yet uncharacteristically affectionate towards you that left you in awe. It was like you were pulling back the curtain ever so slightly to see that there really was a human behind the facade. That and his scent drove you crazy as is and it's extremely subtle, so subtle that you can't even smell it half the time.

The moment he was consciously himself again, he smiled wickedly or rather you think deranged would be a better word. He kicked you to the curb without any acknowledgment of what possessed him to have such poor planning. This has repeated for a few cycles at this point and things didn't add up. You were used to his hot cold demeanor by now but you still don't understand why he makes a big deal out of it. Actually scratch that you knew it's because it bothered him that his secondary gender takes control of his actions. He doesn't take any blockers or suppressants, apparently for religious reasons, but still. He holds great disdain for the fact that no matter how he feels about you deep down there will always be that innate instinct to take care of you simply because you're an unmated omega.

At the end of the day you don't care who fucks your brains out but Fyodor likes playing with his food. Which is why you wish Nikolai would come back already. Your hole ached to be filled. Nikolai teases you but he always makes sure you are taken care of. He was the best alpha of the DOA in your opinion. The two of you had such instant chemistry and you talk about it often enough. Honestly you don't know why he doesn't just claim you now but that's Nikolai for you. He likes his freedom and you can admire that. A man who sticks to his philosophy. Fyodor confuses you because he says one thing but will do another. Like right now, providing his scent to comfort you.

You slowly rocked your hips into Fyodor whimpering pathetically. You could practically hear the grin as he hummed. You took another deep breath of the alpha's scent. You would kill for him to scent you right now. You'd kill for anyone to scent you right now. Your movement grinds to a halt when his fingers dig into your side.

"Enough of that, continue and lose your scent privilege."

Had you been in your right mind you would have laughed. You didn't know you had scent privileges. That would sound a lot like helping with your heat. Part of you hopes you'll remember this when your heat is over so you could throw it in his face. Instead you begged and moaned under his touch.

"P-please, just let me warm you until Nikolai gets back. Being filled is enough. I can't think straight. Everything hurts."

The sentence was shaky at best but you felt him twitch between your legs. He was already mostly hard from your lazy attempt at relief. You didn't even expect him to answer your half drunken rambling when he sighed.

"Fine, if you wish to fuck yourself silly than be my guest but I offer no further assistance."

His tone was as uninterested as usual but it sent shivers down your spine as you fumble with his pants to set his cock free. His expression was neutral but there was a sharpness to his features that was undeniable. For the first time since entering the room his eyes were glued on you as you hastily situated your own clothes and aligned yourself, sinking down on his inches. You were twitching and holding back moans as you bottomed out. Instant relief and pleasure flooded your senses. The sensation of feeling full was so divine. You stayed there panting into Fyodor's neck refusing to move. You prayed that this would be enough. The last thing you want to do is beg him for help.

You gasped, biting the back of your hand as you felt him twitch inside you. You clenched around him involuntarily feeling a wave of pleasure wrack through your body. You were drooling at the fullness while gripping his shoulders tightly. He technically gave you permission to move but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Although your head was screaming at you otherwise. His scent was growing stronger, it had you reeling almost like he was urging you to help yourself. To be a good little omega.

To be, his, good little omega.

With that in mind you slowly rolled your hips choking on a moan as your body twitched around him again. The angle he was able to hit like this was driving you mad. Why have you never done this before? You would have to make a note of this for later. You’ve fooled around with Nikolai quite a bit so why have you never fucked on a chair? With how sensitive you were in heat you could cum just like this. It took all of your strength to lift yourself up enough to sink back down completely. He was just long enough to brush past the right spot to make your legs feel like jelly.

True to his word he did not help you although his hand found itself around your waist. Probably to make sure you didn't fall out of the chair. Your body was spasming in pleasure to the point where your thighs were shaking an awful lot and you have yet to cum. The sheer idea of being bred was enough to satisfy that urge. It felt so good you might even pass out. The more you inhaled his scent the further your mind slipped into heat. You were too busy chasing that high you hadn’t noticed the low grunts and panting in your ear. If you took the time to observe Fyodor you would have seen just how disheveled his demeanor had become.

A thin layer of sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead. He stopped typing ages ago but he still managed to maneuver the mouse around, doing who knows what. His breathing had become ragged when you started moving and the grip on your waist had tightened. You hoped it would leave marks for Nikolai to see. His eyes jumped back and forth from his monitor to you. At this rate neither of you would last much longer.

“F-Fyodor, nnghh, I'm-”

He pressed his lips to your ear murmuring “Cum for me darling” in that deep rich tone of his before he kissed your temple. You slump against him gripping his shoulders tightly as you reach your climax. You were such a panting mess you didn't notice Nikolai had been standing in the doorway the whole time.

The jester took that as his cue to enter the scene bouncing over to you both. “I'm back, did I miss anything?” Nikolai surveys the room cheerful as ever, wiggling his eyebrows while Fyodor's expression goes flat.

He leaned into Fyodor’s personal space with excitement “Oh good you finally confessed! It's about time you figured it out. Honestly it was so uncharacteristic for you of all people to be the last one to know.” He clapped his hands as Fyodor frowned.

“I do not understand what you are referring to, neither (Y/N) nor I made any confession. I was simply minding my business when her preheat kicked in.” There was something about the way that Fyodor said it that sounded dismissive like he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

Nikolai rolled his eyes “Well then if you haven't realized it that's fine. I'll be taking her now if it's all the same to you.” his smile turned into a sneer.

“By all means her heat is your responsibility after all.”

Nikolai helped delicately peel you out of Fyodor's lap holding you in his arms like a princess. You were extremely sensitive to touch and both Alpha's couldn't hide the soft satisfied expression as they watched you enter Nikolai's cape.

“Careful Dos-kun, get too attached and I might have to claim her for myself~” the jester teased even though Fyodor knew if it came down to it Nikolai wouldn't mind sharing at all.

It was the reason he knew he could get away with using you during his rut cycles. Although the first time was purely a miscalculation on his part, but he digressed. The rest was about convenience. Fyodor had or ever wanted to have rut partners in the past, which was unfortunate because having one makes things so much easier to manage. Besides the point he was getting sidetracked in his head.

“As if the thought doesn't excite you.” Fyodor quipped back as his attention was drawn to his monitor. Dazai had managed to put him in check twice since you was being very distracting.

Nikolai laughed ruffling the other’s hair. “Guilty as charged but still,” he trailed off turning towards the door “It's not fair to play games with someone who doesn't know they're playing a game.” Nikolai waved his coat as he vanished to his room leaving Fyodor to scowl at the vacant space.

You were happily making your nest on Nikolai's bed. The room smelled very strongly of the alpha, it helped keep your mind clear especially after you came on Fyodor's cock. In your brain the faster you set up your nest the quicker you could be knotted. Slick was still running down your thigh when Nikolai joined you leaning over your shoulder. “I like what you've done with the place.” He snickered, placing a kiss on your scent gland “Can't wait to ruin it!” He chirped.

You moaned as he pressed himself against your backside. His hands were set on removing the rest of your clothes “By the way did you know Fyodor was playing chess with Dazai that entire time?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden insight. “That's what he was doing! I'm surprised he even let me in then, he hates losing to Dazai.”

Nikolai's hands danced across your exposed skin, kissing everywhere he could while undressing himself. “That's how important you are to him.”

You scoffed “Yeah as if.”

You can’t say he didn’t try, Nikolai has known for a while now that you and Fyodor are fated mates. He's astonished that neither of you could smell it on each other. It wasn’t his job to interfere though he hoped that you'd realize it sooner, But that's not his problem!

#ill probably regret this is the morning but fuck it #im just drunk enough to post this #🍋#my bsd brainrot is showing #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #x reader #fyodor imagines #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor smut #bsd smut #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #a/b/o verse #omegaverse #alpha fyodor #omega reader

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illubean · 5 months ago

Note

Hi ! Can you do the main four hxh (platonic Gon and Killua) x reader neko who has the reflexes, hearing and speed of a cat. But who takes a lot of naps during the day and is very lazy .

How will they react if as a 'gift' you gave them a dead animal (cats do this when they like someone, and I think their reactions would be rather funny).

(Sorry if my English is bad, it's not my native language.)

Have a nice day!

Main 4 (HXH) With a CatHybrid!Reader

Characters: Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck, Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paladaknight Type: Platonic, Headcanons, Gn!Reader

personally I prefer using the word hybrid instead of neko idk

Warnings: mentions of dead animals

Gon Freecs

coming from an island I think Gon knows a lot about animals

he's not too surprised when you bring him rodents you've caught

he literally goes fishing and I'm pretty sure there's others on the island who hunt so he doesn't think much of it

he probably gifts you some of the fish he catches too

he lets you do your own thing most of the time, since you're lazy and he's like the polar opposite of you

he is always out and about doing things or just simply exploring

Gon has both exceptional sense of smell and hearing just like you so you guys often react the same to certain sounds or scents

he doesn't know how to tell how your feeling by your tail behavior but he does know how to tell by your eyes

he knows that whenever your pupils blow wide, you're feeling mischievous

Killua Zoldyck

you'd probably mistake him for one of you if he hadn't been missing the ears and tail

both your reflexes and speed were evenly matched

but your hearing is much better than his

he generally trusts your judgement, so if your ears twitch and you take off in the opposite direction he's following you without question

you're very lazy so he knows that if you're running its for a reason

as for the gift thing...

the first time you dropped a dead rat at his feet he was very confused

you literally sat there like :3 while he was kind of disgusted...

"What the hell is this" "A gift :D" "Uh ok then..."

when he sees you laying around taking naps either basking in the sun or curled up in some corner he probably joins you since you find it so comfortable

and after that he understands the appeal

#nappingbuddies

Kurapika Kurta

he already gives me cat owner vibes so your whole hybrid thing doesn't bother him

he probably knows how to tell what you're feeling by the flick of your tail and position of your ears too

he often finds you sleeping or lounging about in odd places around his cozy apartment

and if you ever so choose to nap on top of him he will simply refuse to wake you up

he will stay wherever he is until you get up on your own

he has to hide any catnip he may have from you because yk...you're much larger than a normal cat and would probably go insane and accidentally destroy things

he knows about your little gifting habit so when you eventually start bringing small animals to him he pretends to accept them and throws them away when you're not looking

you are a very spoiled kitty; whenever he has the time this man cooks you fresh meals

whenever you're feeling moody he hits you with the behind the ears and under the chin scratch combo

and it works to make you feel better every single time

Leorio Paladaknight

he's 100% tried the cucumber trick on you

he watched you turn around then launch like 15 feet into the air and laughed because he couldn't believe it actually worked

pls hit him for that it's not funny.

in my head Leorio uses strong cologne so with your heightened senses you'd probably have to keep your distance

and he's lwky bitter about it...

but sometimes you manage to catch him on days where he's not going out therefore he feels no need to put any on

and boom you can cuddle with him then

when you brought him a dead animal one day he screams like a girl

"WTF GET IT AWAY!" "But it's a present :("

he kind of feels bad after seeing the dejected and confused look on your face but please for the love of god get that poor bird out of his living room

when you take it away he ends up forgetting about it until he finds it hidden under the couch or something a few days later

he ends up screaming again...

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love2poetry · 5 months ago

Text

loml

⤷ mcu!peter parker x artsy!reader

𝜗𝜚. . . synopsis. you are both peter's love and loss of his life

𝜗𝜚. . . general tag. mostly fluff & some angst

.ᐟ. . . content warnings. if you see any grammar mistakes, keep them to yourself pls thx<3 might be cringe tbh

♫⋆｡ our field of dreams, engulfed in fire your arson's match your somber eyes and i'll still see it until i die, you're the loss of my life

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ sophia's letter ! i wrote this as it's raining and can you guess what scented candle i have lighting? 😝 anyway i went through a depressive episode for no reason so i took a hiatus, but i might be back for the summer. i often go through another one when school starts so im gonna do the most now. i was thinking of making a part two for this using 'peter' but idk. anyway, HIIII NEW GRACIE ALBUM THIS WEEK RAGHH

prequel

wc. 1,926

spring had just began, more warm days after months of freezing cold weather. today, however, seemed to be one of the few cold, rainy days february had left. you had finished homework earlier today, always wanting to have your weekends free as much as you can, so you decided to occupy your mind with something else more calming.

after finishing the last of your ap psychology assignment, you walked to your kitchen and made yourself a quick matcha. as you measured the green powder into your cat mug - a lovely gift peter got you because one of the cats in the bug is a calico, like your own cat - a thud was heard from your room. it was followed by an 'ow' quickly after, causing a small smile to form on your lips.

peter.

at the sudden noice, autumn, your calico cat, run cautiously out of your room. after finishing your matcha with some creamer, you also walked to your room.

peter looked towards the door upon sensing you. his spidey sense usually only triggered when danger was near, however, when it came to you, peter was able to feel you. he couldn't describe it, but there was something in you that made him feel safe. it was a warm feeling that ran down his spine, and maybe it was because he was in your room, but he could also smell the vanilla lotion you love to use. everything about you made him feel like he was engulfed by a soft blanket.

so it was no surprise that the first thing peter did was offer you a smile. you automatically smile back of course. how could you not when he looks at you like that, like he was going to somehow bring you the moon he often photographed because it made him think of you.

'it's raining,' peter pointed with a boyish grin. the obvious pitter patter coming from your windows made you tilt your head playfully. 'you don't say.'

peter patrolled the streets of new york everyday as his alter ego, spider-man. but on days like this, he likes to use the weather as an excuse to come see you earlier instead. he has a build in heater in his suit of course, but in his opinion it doesn't work as well as a good cuddling season with you.

peter sets his masks down on your night stand. 'cuddles?'

you took a sip of your matcha as you walked to your desk. 'i have to work on my portfolio.' you heard him walk to your dresser that sat on the corner of your room where you had a drawer with his clothes to change to after patrol. 'i thought you were done with it?'

'yea, it's just,' your fingers glossed over your sketches. junior year was ending and soon college applications will start. it had been your dream to attend the art school of chicago, and now that applications are around the corner, you want to make sure everything is perfect. 'it doesn't feel complete.'

once peter was out of his wet suit and into his favorite pair of bright pink hello kitty pants matched with a plain white tee, he sneaked his arms around you, taking your comforting scent in. you felt him place a kiss in your hair, 'i think it's perfect.'

you turn to look at him with an unimpressed expression. his smile widens and he can't fight the urge to kiss you any longer. peter gently presses his lips into yours. he's always been delicate with his kisses, especially after being spider-man. you knew it was his way to ground himself after a day of fighting criminals, so you let him be as soft as he needed.

you loved it that way. you loved him that way.

peter pulls away first. 'i have some photos i took last week. you could draw some if you need.'

peter's hobby went hand in hand with your art. thanks to being spider-man, he was able to take some shots of new york no one else would be able to obtain, and he often let you sketch them, so often that half of his storage is pictures he takes for you to draw. the other half is probably of you.

you hum in agreement, still looking into peter's eyes. you have never loved brown as much as you do now.

'tomorrow.' peter took your mug in one hand, then used the other to hold your hand while he drag you over to bed. 'today, we cuddle.' he set your bug on the night stand.

you smile. 'okay.'

you two settled under your warm covers with you closest to your mug incase you want a sip, but before you could find a comfortable position, peter stood up, muttering a quick 'wait!'.

you frown, but understood what he was doing when he pulled a lighter from your drawer in the night stand. he lit up the candle that rested on top. apple pumpkin. you bought a few pumpkin scented candles last fall, and peter grew to love this specific one. he wasn't a fan of scented candles because of his enhanced smell, but this one was subtle enough for him to enjoy without getting a headache.

once peter returned to bed, he wrapped his arms around your waist with his head on your chest. he slightly tilted his head to plant a kiss into your skin. 'i love you.'

his whispered confession filled you with butterflies. you don't know what you did to be lucky enough to love this boy in your arms, let alone be loved back by him. one of your hands wrapped around his back, while the other caressed his check, slightly squishing his face. his chuckles echoed in the room along the rain when you started kissing his face.

two kisses on his right check, two more on the left, three on his forehead, and one on the bridge of his nose.

'i love you more.'

a bright smile stayed on peter's face as he shook his head. 'that's not possible.' your smile matched his, 'i think it is. no, i know it is.'

'i love you most.' before you could disagree, you felt his hands sneak under your shirt, cutting you off by tickling your sides. you squeak in surprise and try to squirm away. your laughter fills peter's ears, 'okay! i can't breathe!'

peter paused his movements and you inhale to suggest, 'we both love each other equally.'

peter makes a thinking face. 'i'll let you have this win,' he rolled his eyes playfully before settling in your arms again.

the two of you stayed intertwined in bed until you felt peter's breathing slow down, indicating he had fallen asleep. his weight was on your side now, but looking down at him you decided you wanted to engrave this moment forever.

swiftly, you reached for the small sketchbook you keep on your night stand. thankfully, you had left a pencil there too. you sat up slightly, making sure not to disturb peter's slumber. his arms tighten around you making you freeze, but the light snores coming from peter tell you he is still deep in his sleep.

you find a clean page and begin drawing shapes until you like how they all sit together. you move to the face proportions, not focusing on shading yet. your hand makes the hair part look effortless, and it may be from the many times you've drawn these curls. moving back to the face, you use your finger to blend the lines better.

finishing the rough draft, your focus goes to the nose, moving to the freckles you have memorized.

'stalker.'

peter's deep voice caused a blush to creep into your cheeks. it wasn't the first time peter caught you drawing him, he has seen the many sketches and paintings you've done of him, but you still shy way when his eyes follow every detail of him you've embedded into your mind.

if only you knew peter feels the same. to know the person he loves more than anything has memorized him, his body and soul, fills him with an indescribable feeling. he does the same with his camera. most of his photos are moments you've shared together that he wants to remember forever.

peter not having storage on his phone from all the candid pictures he has of you is his version of when you learned to draw the lines that form around his eyes when he smiles.

'shut up,' you nudge your leg against his. there's smiles on both of your faces as peter snuggles closer to you.

the room is rather dark by now, only the candle peter had previously lit and another lamp you always have create a cozy atmosphere. the warm glow of the lamp reaches your features enough for peter to see and he takes his time to draw his own painting of you in his mind.

the flickering flame of the candle mixing with the apple pumpkin scent ignite a perfect portrait of peter you ache to fabricate, you take a mental picture for later.

you could be here with peter for all time.

neither of you knew that it was only momentary.

peter climbed through the window, a plastic bag in hand. he pulled his mask off, wet hair falling over his eyes.

the loud thunder from outside shook his apartment. it started raining earlier that day, so peter decided to cut his patrolling short. he hadn't done it in a while.

his body was freezing from the harsh wind that he old suit would have kept him warm from. he walked towards a basket full of his clothes that sat in a corner, that was his dresser for the time being, and grabbed a gray shirt.

when peter picked up the shirt, he caught a glimpse of what once were a bright magenta hello kitty bottoms, is now a dull shade of pink. with a sinking feeling, peter decided to put them on as well.

he made it to his twin size bed where he left the bag and took out the single purchase he made.

a small scented candle. apple pumpkin.

once lit, he set it on the small dining table his studio apartment came with. he stared at it until the soft scent filled his nose. his throat closes when memories of you that are still imprinted in his mind come back. peter feels his left eye twitch as tears threaten to spill, but he refuses to cry.

he can't afford a breakdown. he has no one to turn to anymore. peter doesn't know if he can pick himself back up if he breaks. it was easier with tony because he had may and friends who cared about him. but especially because he had you.

now may is gone, he's a stranger to his friends, and every detail of peter you had memorized has been erased.

peter turns back to his bed and pulls the covers to get in. he continues to stare at the flame emotionless, slowly dissociating from his lonesome.

even after everything, peter can't comprehend how you could go from perfectly drawing the creases on his lips without a reference to not even remembering his name.

do you still have those pieces of him?

do you still draw him even now like it is muscle memory?

is he in your dreams like you are in his?

you will continue to occupy peter's mind until the day being spider-man finally kills him. you were his deepest love, and now his greatest loss.

#୧ ‧₊˚ 🏹 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒 #୧ ‧₊˚ 🎀 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝖂𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #୧ ‧₊˚ 🍰 ⋅ 𝕾𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐀 𝖂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #loml taylor swift #peter parker blurb #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #no way home #peter parker angst

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cvnt4him · 6 months ago

Text

You've summoned a succubus!!

Human!izuku x succubus!reader

Warnings; reader is black and in most of my fics she probably will be so, yeah. Also like sex. This is my first time writing sex n most of the time I get weirded out by it so... Lemme know if it's ass💀 quirkless AU

This was originally written on May 22 and I'm finishing it now for izuku week, my writing style is outdated or probably the same idk enjoy<33

I mean when have I ever used warning 💀

It was a late stormy night at UA in kaminaris room. All the boys huddled up playing games like, never have I ever, kiss marry kill and more.

In a game of truth or dare, the topic of sex came up. It was midoriya's and being the person denki is, he asked; "have you ever lost your virginity?"

Earning snickers and sneers from everyone in the room.

Midoriyas eyes were wide, brows furrowed in a terrified look. He hadn't lost his virginity. He hadn't even kissed anyone.

Bakugou looked at izukus panicked face already knowing the answer. Despite not being friends in bakugous eyes, he knew things about izuku that no one else knew, including things involving kissing, sex, ect.

Iida instantly attempted shutting the question down, not just for the comfort of his clearly nervous friend but because such inappropriate and personal things shouldn't be discussed!!!

"kaminari! Don't tease izuku into answering such lewd and private things. How about we play a different game."

Bakugou scoffs and chimes in.

"tch, have YOU even lost YOUR virginity, dunce face? Hell, have ANY of you morons even lost it???"

He ends his sentence with a smirk on his face looking at everyone in the room, as silence fills it completely.

Throat being cleared and looks being exchanged between the other boys.

Izuku sighed feeling a load being let off of him, he turned to bakugou and smiled sincerely.

Bakugou double takes looking at izuku eyes slightly widening at his smile. He wouldn't admit it but a slight blush crept onto his face as he rolled his eyes shuffling his knees up to his face to cover the lower half of it still having a smug look on his lightly tinted cheeks.

Izukus smile simply grew wider as he brought his eyes back forward to the other boys as sero decided to change the subject.

"so, has anyone ever heard of summoning demons?~"

Sero sung in a certain tone, hinting at something.

"what are you referring to?" Kirishima said with a smirk and raising a brow

Everyone else was also intrigued in some way, but oh not izuku. That poor little baby was shaking in his little red boots.

Before any of them knew it, they were in the schools basement, the dark, creaky, stinky, scary, dingy, crusty, probably infectious, and unsafe, AND unsanitary, basement.

Ohohoho yeah. Izuku regretted coming to this 'boys only' sleepover. The girls would never let something like this happen!

Izuku was a girls boy, a mamas boy, n js genuinely respectful towards everyone, but women sure did love him, and he knew it. He preferred gaining praise from women than men.

Maybe that's why bakugou always called him a pussy, he enjoyed being around women more than men. Hell, bakugou had probably gone as far as calling him a ladyboy. But that was when they were younger!! (Bakugous had hella improvement I'll let it be shown!)

Izuku gulped hardly, as he followed the other boys into the basement, each step he took the stairs creaked and dented in, he felt like he was gonna fall through n break his neck.

"what are we even doing here, idiot number 3."

Bakugou murmured a bark at sero, due to the heavy echo in the empty, wet, and dingy basement.

"I agree, it's dark, cold, wet, it reeks of mildew, and it seems highly unsanitary to be in here. We could get in serious trouble if we get caught."

Iida agrees with bakugou, pointing out obvious facts of the horrible smelling place.

"IF we get caught, which we won't. Also ouch bakubro... I'll process that pain on my own time."

Sero replied in a hushed tone.

"why is he number 3?" Denki, stupid enough, asks.

"because you and shitty hair are the other 2."

Bakugou explained pointing to the two earning laughs and chuckles from the others.

"hurtful man!" Kirishima says holding his heart with a fake sniffle.

"now now, lets get back to business boys."

Sero boasted hinting to the numerous of articles he found by searching 'how to summon a demon'.

As he grasped everyone's attention, they're eyes adverting to his phone reading what he searched.

...

"are you fucking kidding me?"

"what? What's the matter?"

"you've officially been ranked up to 'dumbest cunt in the fucking world'."

Everyone laughs loudly, but is instantly silenced by the loud lighting and thunder outside.

"thank you. Now, huddle close everyone, let's summon a fucking demon!" Sero exclaims.

Some time later they eventually find an article titled 'How To Summon A Succubus'.

"you're not supposed to uppercase small things like "to" and "the" and other things like that in titles."

Everyone slowly turns their heads to bakugous direction at his sudden words.

"fucking dork"

"I'm not a dork idiot, I just know to correctly use uppercase letters in things to where they are needed. Dumb ass loser." Bakugou says in a whisper yelled voice.

"gentlemen, I believe I've found something." Sero interrupts, referring to him finding instructions on how to 'summon' a succubus.

Everyone looks ahead as sero reads the instructions.

"first and foremost, you do not summon a succubus as there is no technical way. To correctly invite a succubus to your home is easy, but first you must know the dos and donts when it comes down to succubi. Don't, blah blah blah, boring boring boring..." Sero scrolls through and finds the REAL instructions to summoning a succubus.

"ah ha there we are! How to officially summon a succubus! For starters, succubi prefer to know who they're meeting if they haven't watched over you before, interesting, with that being said you should have a glass of sperm for them to taste to know you and what they're working with.."

The dark haired boys voice trails off into silence as he begins to look around at everyone.

"so...who wants to come inside of a cup!!"

Sero exclaims with a faux smile waving his hands around in a 'jazz hands' motion.

Everyone murmurs to their neighbor or to themselves not wanting to volunteer.

...

"how about we all do it? Y'know, let it have options?"

Todoroki chimes into the silence, having everyone look at him as he blinks then turns his head to the side slightly like a puppy.

"well, there's an idea."

"not a bad one actually."

Everyone eventually agreed as sero handed out shot glasses to everyone as they all ushered upstairs.

Iida looked at them all in a fit of disgust as he then turned to izuku who looked down at the cup with a pretty much emotionless face, and took the initiative to speak up.

"there is no way in hell you're all actually doing this, right??" He questions, judging everyone extremely hard.

Izuku looks up to his taller friend and blinks twice before looking forward.

Everyone looks around and in some way agrees.

"what, ya scared four eyes? Scared you won't get picked by the demon thing?"

Bakugou teases which angers iida and makes him look around in a flustered and embarrassed estate.

"succubus, bakugou"

"shut the hell up, shitty hair."

"you've gotta drop that name, man."

As they all scurry off into conversation, iida looks down still slightly embarrassed as izuku notices and pats his shoulder, making iida look down to izuku as he offers iida a soft smile.

Iida sighs and looks forward.

"yeah well you sick cunts can enjoy yourselves, izuku and I aren't taking part in this disgusting situation." He adjusts his posture and his glasses on his face, and sets his shot glass on denkis bedside table folding his arms.

Wait what?

Izuku shoots his head up to iida with wide eyes and a confused face as iida looks down at him ushering for back up to his previous words as izuku simply looks back and forth.

Iida scoffs at this, as it makes bakugou laugh and out his arm around izukus shoulder.

"see look, even little old deku wants to participate, why you gotta be such a loser, man?"

Izuku looks up at bakugou then to iida and furrows his brows in an apologetic manner.

Iida rolls his eyes and scoffs once more.

"fine, you all can enjoy yourselves, really I hope you do. But let's just say this whole, fiasco doesn't work. There'll just be glasses of cum in the basement. What if teachers decide to come down here? Huh? Then what."

He says talking with his hands as he gets even angrier at izukus betrayal.

No one has thought of that.

.....

"welp no going back now."

Denki says as he goes to his bathroom closing the door and locking it as everyone walked off to different places to get themselves off and cum into a shot glass..

Izuku sighed as he ended up walking to his dorm for more privacy.

He looks at the glass in his hand and wondered...

How the hell will he come inside of this tiny thing??

Izuku comes a lot, and by alot I mean... ALOTTTT.

There's just always so much!!

And his post nut clarity is always the worst.

But if there was one thing about izuku, it's that he loved to jack off.

It was just so relaxing to him. It's healthy too! It reduces his anxiety and calms his nerves!

So truly he had no problem with jacking off, he was just worried he'd make a big mess!

Izuku ends up shrugging off the worry and pulls down his shorts, palming himself through his boxers. He sighed, his head dropping back against his door. he starts getting rougher with his motions as his cock begins to get harder and harder against his palm. He ends up whimpering as his palm grazes against his clothed tip.

He opens his eyes, looking down as he hurriedly pulled his boxers down and wrapped his hand around his aching cock, bucking unto his own hand he slowly moves his hand up and down his cock, eyes rolling back as the tip of his length starts dripping with precum.

Izuku always leaks so much pre! His cock just gets so wet with all the pre he leaks, the noises his slippery cock makes is just so loud!!

And it's not like his moans and whispers make it any better, But really don't hold it against him, he just can't help himself!!

He ends up speeding his motions as he moves his hand to the tip of his cock and swirls the tip, overstimulating him and sending him completely over the edge as he rolls his eyes back, muffled moans falling from his lips, as he bites his lower.

He comes undone so quickly as he groans deeply as he cums everywhere, filling up the shot glass that he lowered to the tip of his cock.

His cum shoots long quick spurts from his cock, getting all over his hand, over flowing the shot glass, and even getting on his floor.

His cock slowly softens and twitches, as he sighs deeply trying to gain his composure back as he opens his eyes to see the huge mess he's made.

'shit.' he thinks to himself. Now he has a mess to clean.

Izuku walks back to denkis dorm with a paper towel around his shot glass trying to assure nothing spills on the floor.

He sighs thinking to himself wondering why the hell he even did this.

Izuku was the last one to get back to denkis room, as everyone's eyes shot to his direction he clears his throat motioning that he'd done the task everyone else had.

"alright, izukus the last of us so, let's summon a succubus!!"

The guys whooped and hollered as izuku set his glass down and sighed as bakugou stood next to him exhaling deeply.

"I cannot believe I fucking sat here and came inside of a shot glass for something stupid shit that probably won't even work."

"ditto.."

They all rushed back down to the basement as sero has already drawn the pentagram.

"so we set our glasses of cum around the edges like this," he motions to the glasses everyone had set down in a circle.

"and then we light these candles,"

He snaps, and that makes kirishima and denki go around and light the candles they had set up.

"and last but not least, we say the chant!."

"Yeah, I'm not saying a fucking chant, I'm tired I'm going to bed. Come on nerd."

Bakugou says to izuku as he begins walking up the basement stairs as izuku yawns, following like a lost puppy.

"fine fine we'll say the chant then!"

He says to the rest of the boys as they all grab hands and begin to chant the spell they found online.

[however I'm lazy and couldn't find anything online and don't feel like making anything up so time skip to sleepy bye time.]

Everyone had emerged back upstairs and into denkis room to do the last thing of the sleepover.

Sleep.

Izuku and katsuki had long passed out, iida left long ago to his own dorm.

As the rest of the boys got in their designated spots.

Denki in the bed with kirishima, and the others all around the floor somewhere.

CRASH, BANG KAPOWWWW.

[that's my impersonation of lighting n shit stfu😒]

The loud banging and crashes of the continuous storm outside was enough to wake izuku up. Hell he'd dare even say he already was awake.

He tried to soothe and calm himself by imagining he was in his own bedroom, alone, in his nice comfortable bed.

It'd almost worked up until he heard footsteps. Loud thudding of steps outside the hall.

His eyes shot open wide, with a look of terror he turned his head up towards the door. Practically shaking underneath his cover.

He was scared to say the least. Was it the succubus? Had it come to eat them?

Or maybe banish them all to hell for disrupting it's privacy!

His mind was running a mile per minute, so many things coming to mind thinking of what the demon would do to them.

As he heard the footsteps stop, that was enough to get him up and out of that room, leaving the cover and pillow denki has given him he dashed out and running to his dorm which wasn't too far away luckily.

He had ran so fast he didn't even notice the 6ft succubus outside denkis door.

....

Your POV.

You were in your cutesy little room laying down enjoying your time alone. Long French curl braids in a high ponytail, brown and red wings out together behind your back as your tail moves with a mind of its own.

Being a succubus really is hard work!!

You had just gotten off of 'work' from the human realm, sucking some old mans dick. You love cum. Really you do, but it's not fun when you're fucking the same old cunts who don't bring anything to the table besides little to no cum.

'Where were all the youngsters summoning demons?' It really had you thinking.

You sighed, deciding to drop your horrible day, and watch a movie in your fav pyjamas!

You made popcorn, had a hotdog, and some soda n snacks too.

It was truly perfect.

Until you were oh so rudely interrupted by a pentagram spawning below you. Bright lights of yellow orange and red sucking your pyjamas off, and before you knew it sucking you right back to where you'd never left.

The human realm.

You groan knowing the rules; You can't leave until your job is finished.

You opened your eyes seeing as you were on the ground, in a basement of some sort, it reeked.

You looked around checking your surroundings as something delicious caught your attention.

It was cum. And not just any cum. Cum from teenagers, most likely virgins, boy did you love virgins!!

You smiled widely as you picked up one glass that had a piece of paper next to it.

'sero' it read,

You shrugged assuming who evers cum this was, was named sero.

You sniff the enticing aroma before letting the slimy white liquid fall into your tongue.

It was delicious. You had to taste more!! Luckily for you, there were so many glasses awaiting you. Whoever summoned you, knew exactly what they were doing.

You drank all of them one by one, tasting the different flavors and textures of them all.

You had one more left, a nice thick white load waiting for you, you hadn't really savoured the last ones you devoured, you figured you could take your time with this one.

You picked it up and grabbed the note next to it as well, 'midoriya', it read.

"well, thank you midoriya.~" you whispered in a sultry tone, dipping your long tongue into the small glass. As soon as your tongue touched the liquid, you were in heaven. A nice salty flavor that wasn't too strong but just delicious enough for you to be hooked.

You moaned lowly as you drank all of the come, licking up every little drop inside of the glass. The flavor of his cum truly did have you wanting more.

You got up and walked to the stairs looking up at the door, before taking the steps up to find the source to your delicious heaven.

Eventually you had made it to the dorms, it not being too hard to navigate through the building, you made it to the first floor which was where the boys were camping out in denkis dorm room.

You started walking slowly so as not to wake anyone you only wanted to find the source really, then you'd be on your way.

You eventually stopped at denkis doorz smelling izukus scent through it, although there were other events of the previous cum you had tasted, his was the one you were locked onto.

Before you could do anything, the door flung open as you seen a body running out hurriedly.

You knew that was izuku given when he passed you his scent got stronger. Had you wanting to practically eat him up.

You smirked, and walked toward his same direction.

Izuku had breathed heavily, closing his door and jumping into his bed face first into his pillows as he sighed deeply.

He finally felt calm, comfortable, tired.

Izuku turned over in his bed, pulling his covers up onto him and closing his eyes with a smile and a soft sigh.

You opened his door and closed it loud enough for him to jump.

He looked at your silhouette and the way you walked towards him, he was paralyzed with fear, he couldn't even speak. Just shaking in his bed as you crept towards him.

You crawled into his bed, getting ontop of him.

Your faces are now levelled together, noses touching. Hes so scared, shaking, quietly whimpering, and closing his eyes out of fear.

You smiled at the adorably delicious scene infront of you.

"hello, hunny~" you whisper, breath fanning his face.

He opened his eyes to see you, a beautiful, human looking [for the most part] demon.

He couldn't speak, but boy were you beautiful.

"there we go sweet boy~" you say in a honey sweet voice, trying to calm his nerves.

You were all about consent, really you were, and with him being a virgin all you Wana do is rock his world and make him feel better than life itself.

You giggle as he just stares at you, mouth opening and closing trying to find some kind of words, yet his voice can't seem to make any coherent words or sounds.

You run your claws through his hair in a soothing motion at a slow pace, it really had calmed him. He sighed into your face, head leaning forward and touching your forehead with his.

You smile softly putting another hand of his cheek, removing your other from his hair to fully cut his squishy baby like face.

His attention was brought to you as you brung his head up to face you. he relaxed in your hands face leaning against you warm palms.

"can I have you?" You ask him, still whispering to not alarm him too much, trying to keep the mood set in the soft alley it was in.

He gulped, still not able to get any words out, managing to nod with his head in your hands.

You grin, removing your hands to rub them up and down his clothed body. He sighed heavily, lidded eyes watching your every move closely.

You look him deep in his eyes, not wanting to break eye contact, he felt like you were staring at his soul. Maybe you were, maybe you weren't, he couldn't care about anything in this given moment. All hr wanted was you, the excitement was getting to him as you felt his member get hard against your thigh.

You smirk at the sudden feeling and shift your body so now you were directly on the tent in his pants. Once you heard him whimpered at the feeling you began rocking and grinding your hips into him, at an agonizingly slow pace.

He sighed deeply once more, hands moving to your hips, as you giggle.

"getting bold are we?"

He couldn't even give real words, moaning as an answer due to the feeling of you grinding on him, you were so warm and you were with him. He always thought he'd never get a girlfriend or even lose his virginity but getting to feel this was amazing.

He continually moans as he starts bucking his hips into you making you laugh deeply, and place your hands on his chest to grab some kind of control in this situation.

You start grinding harder into him speeding up your pace, little by little, and boy was this getting to him, his moans started slipping out more fluidly, he couldnt even control them, they just fell out of his mouth.

They sounded so pretty coming from him, his hips matching the pace you had set grinding into him.

"I'm.. gonna cum.. g'na cu...- c-cumming...~"

He finally spoke, eyes rolling back as came hard in his shorts and underwear.

You couldn't help but laugh as you slowed your motions to a complete stop.

His breaths were rigid, as he tried to maintain his composure, he looked up at you, embarrassed and flushed, he had came his pants.

It was so embarrassing and the only thing he could do was hide his face in your fur covered boobs.

You wipe away a tear from your laughter as you look down at him, his face buried in your bossom as you smiled, and got up, he whimpered at the loss of warmth on his face and lap.

"awhh~ poor baby came his pants," you giggle as you look down at the huge wet patch on clothed, his still hard cock.

He looked down at his cock and the huge amount of cum he made. Izuku always cums a lot really, but that was just.... Far too much.. right??

He was so embarrassed he didn't know what to do, back in his previous state of not talking.

You hummed and moved down to untie his shorts and pull them completely off, he whimpered at your strength and how much taller than him your truly were.

Once they were completely off you crawled into of him, you were going to wring this mortal dry. You pull him into a kiss that took him by surprise, he moaned into the kiss having you swallow all of his little mewls and high pitched moans.

You settled above his cock and looked down at him deep in his emerald green eyes, they were washed over with pure lust and were so glossy with his tears forming.

You giggle to yourself before slowly lowering yourself in his unwrapped cock, he choked on his moans instantly and bucked his hips up into you causing you to lose balance and fall completely onto his cock. The stretch was quite a nice one definitely not what you expected.

You had to try hard not to completely lose yourself on his godforsaken cock. He was trying so hard not to cum but it's like his hips wouldn't stop snapping up into your ass, the squelches and plapping sound of your bodies meeting was far too much for his little virgin brain.

Izukus eyes started rolled as his hands instantly went to your hips on instinct, he pulled himself closer to you and began wailing inside of your ear, his sobs were nothing less than adorable, the way he choked moans out and they got strangled inside of his throat was divine. His cock twitching inside of you is what told you that he was soon to cum. Being what you are you didn't mind letting him bury his seed deep inside of you, it sounded like a good time to you.

"I'm ah~ go- going to cum! please please please let- hic! let me cum.."

Oh wow, never once had you said that he couldn't cum. The fact he felt the need to beg to release his dirty cum inside of you is what had you laughing while you bounced in his pathetic little cock. His eyes were squeezed shut trying to maintain the tears that flowed down but there was no stopping them, he was hiccupping and trying his hardest to bury his cock within your velvety walls. The way they convulsed and contracted against his cock had his head spinning, he was delirious.

He was in such a wonderful haze, his mind was being clouded with the pure utter lust he was feeling for you, he was so close to cumming the only thing on his mind was trying to chase his orgasm that soon then crashed onto him like a train. His back arched into you as he squeezed you tight, his arms went around your waist and he sobbed into your breasts.

You laughed the entire time, you continued to purposely squeeze around his cock causing him to be overstimulated. Izuku was shocked by a whole other wave of pleasure and pain mixed, his head started pulsating and spinning with pleasure that eventually he passed out underneath you.

With that you took your leave, you got what you were summoned for and left without a word or a sound creating a portal back to your world. You hope this little perv has adorable little dreams about you<3

AN: where it says "he didn't notice how much taller than him you truly were." After that is where I took over the story, If you couldn't tell.

This is the earliest I've EVER gotten a fic out for izuku week like oml wow the luck now I don't have to stress up and down and what I'm going to post, I love my zuzu fr I do but I cant believe I out myself through this entire week like I'm so stressed out i want to quit but I don't at the same time.

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