#he literally LIT UP when i pulled into the drive way

[seitmai]

Ahh so many thoughts

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering emotional, mess.

I hope hehas left as quivering, emotional mess too 🤭

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

Good for her!

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

Yeah let's woman up 💪🏻

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left.

As he should 😌🤭

He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage. “Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

Literally me every time I send a message that stresses me out for various reasons haha (most of the time it's just my anxiety lol)

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?” You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness. “Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

👀

“You can have whatever you want...”  A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission. “You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly.  “I trust you.” 

They're jumping straight in

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  And he made you feral.

Valid 🤷🏻‍♀️

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp. “You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

Hahaha ballsy coming from a woman that just almost drooled over a corduroy suit 😂

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

Let them be! They are in love🥰

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs. In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Yeah and making fun of others being in love just a few minutes before 🤭

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…” Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

Haha love that she interrogates Nico and Steve is just sitting there watching her like 🥰😍

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….” “Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Hahahha 😂

“Beautiful,” you murmured. And then you noticed that he was looking at you.

I'm swooning 🥰

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

It's in the details 🤭

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent. When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…” His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.” Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled. “We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Yeah let's just put a pin into it 🤭

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered.  “You do that to me, Peach.” “Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself. “You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

I'm swooning

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.” Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. Not at all. 

Yeah, absolutely not because of any tears 🤭

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

🤭🤭🤭

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.”

Is that a promise? 😉🤭

 Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

🥵🥵🥵

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?” “Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

That's not no 👀

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair. “I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.” “I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

Ahh finally, them are making so much progress 🥰

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.” Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

Huh? 👀

"You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

Yeah, a joke, right👀

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?” Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

Omg

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.” “True. But when you know, you know.” Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating. “Would it make us look crazy…?” You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark. “…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Omg this conversation between them is everything! They so are gonna get hitched right away!! And everyone will think it's crazy, except for them because they think it's beautiful 🥰😌 and you know who else is gonna find it beautiful? A certain cousin and best friend, because this is gonna be the last push for Bucky to get down on one knee too 🤭

“If you ask me, I’m ready…” The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

I have a feeling that he is on one knee or getting dressed speeding to his penthouse to geta certain thing 🤭😍

Peach VI

Peach V | Peach VII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. You two FINALLY admit your feelings for one another and seal the deal. But how far are you willing to go for this love?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: This is it! I hope the smut is up to par. When I tell you I’ve agonized about this. But thank you to all who were in my inbox and dms giving me encouragement this week. Love you bunches! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach V. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, Mutual pining, idiots in love, eye fucking, Steve Rogers is an artist, y'all!, sending (almost) nudes, phone sex, possessive Steve, references to shibari, mutual masturbation, pining, references to sex in a car, the "L" word, oral (f recieving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple play, size kink, pleasurable pain with sex, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint, references to murder. Something big may or may not happen after the last line.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

Steve Rogers left you in your hotel room, a quivering emotional, mess.

He’d made you cum, hard, but you felt that he was holding back, that if you’d told him how you felt it would have been so much better.

Or maybe that was all in your mind. Steven Grant Rogers was on your mind since you met him as Grant Stevens in Atlanta.

A lot happened in a short amount of time that caused you to deny your feelings for him. And now you were no longer trying to keep him out. 

He was definitely a distraction, but now you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer. You just needed to be a woman about it and tell him.

What’s the worst that could happen? You weren’t going to marry the guy, you just want to explore these mutual feelings. It shouldn’t be complicated.

Right?

You still had the rest of the week in New York to stress out about it, so that was a plus. The afternoon was ahead of you and the next day was the Summitt.

After that, you had your one on one with Steve.

Bucky told you about Steve being an artist himself during your meeting with him. So, for your meeting with Steve, you requested that you see some of his artwork, and he agreed.

You were curious to see what he could create, and you were anxious and turned on at the thought of him as a creator.

You were so into Steve Rogers.

And you didn’t know what you were going to do about that.

—--

Steve had to stop himself from going back up to your room three times after he left. He finally exited the hotel and stalked down the street back to the Rebirth building to his car and pulled out his phone, dialing Bucky and pulling out of the garage.

He needed a drive and a little alone time to clear his head and come down from you, but he also needed his friend’s help.

“Wassssaaaap! Did you get the–”

Steve cut Bucky off.

“Remember that shopping trip we took a few weeks ago? For the ring?”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah. Meet me on 47th street.”

—-

That afternoon, you just kept your distance from Sharon and ignored her, focusing on the task at hand and all business. You didn’t want to waste energy on her.

Your energy was spent on thinking about Steve and wondering if he was thinking of you too. You wanted to text him, but you were chilling. You didn’t want to seem to eager.

You were successful in your self control until 11 pm as you tossed and turned in your hotel king bed. Doubts, but mostly need and desire, coursed through you. 

You were going to find out exactly what Steve was doing right now and who he might be with. You shook your head at how much you cared; it was definitely not something you regularly did. You were used to feening for someone.

You were choosing violence as you posed on the bed in front of the mirror. You sat on the bed, crossed your legs and snapped a picture.

You weren’t naked, but your panties were skin tone and your sleep bra was sheer and you were feeling needy.

Before you thought too hard, you sent it to Steve, then jumped in bed and pulled the covers over your head with that feeling of dread and panic when you don’t know if you’ve done something supremely reckless or not.

—

Steve was ready for the Summit, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Sleep was elusive, so he was self medicating, sketching your body from memory of mostly touch.

His phone vibrated and he almost didn’t pick it up, but when he saw your name, his heart sped up.

He clicked through to your message and his heart started hammering in his chest. 

Sorry, wrong thread.

The picture you sent along threatened to give him a heart attack. He zoomed in a couple of times and then read the message again. What the fuck?

——-

In less than a minute your phone was ringing. You picked up immediately.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Peach.”

Steve’s growl got you wet, but you instantly regretted your horny decisions.

“It was a mistake.”

“It absofuckinlutely was. You’re joking about it being the wrong thread, right? That is mine, correct?”

You shivered at his double meaning and at his possessiveness.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

Your voice was needy and that awakened a hunger in Steve. He was beyond frustrated that he wasn’t there to spank your ass raw, but he remained quiet.

You sensed his mood.

“If I were there, I’d make it up to you…”

You were testing the waters, experimenting to see if he would give you what you wanted despite his annoyance.

If he would give you what you needed.

“What would you do?” 

Steve’s baritone was silk in your ear.

“What?” 

You suddenly found that you couldn’t breathe.

“What would you do if you were here?”

“I’d kiss you,” you rushed out in a whisper.

Steve paused, letting your sentence hang in the air.

“And?” 

There was an edge to the question. 

“And… My lips. All over you.” 

Fuck, he was hard. Just a few words in your husky voice, and Steve delirious, imagining his hands in your hair as you kissed him.

“Where?” he asked mercilessly, his voice broken with lust.

“Everywhere…your face, your neck, your nipples, your abs. Your cock.” 

You were definitely not a virgin, but you were blushing through the phone although your hand was rubbing the skin at the edge of your underwear.

“Want you in my throat.” 

Steve had to concentrate to stay hard. 

“Oh? What if I want more than that?” 

“You can have whatever you want...” 

A sense of power flooded Steve’s body, both heady and intoxicating at your admission.

“You should be very careful when you make that offer, Peach,” he said softly. 

“I trust you.” 

Holy fuck. Why did that mean everything to him?  He cleared his throat.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

“Okay.” 

You complied so readily, it made Steve even harder.

Your clit was so hard as you circled it.

“Are you wet, Sweetheart?” 

You moaned and Steve reached into his sweats and curled his fingers around his aching cock.

“My pussy is so messy for you, Mr. Rogers,” you whispered, thrilled and afraid of how much you wanted him. 

Steve rolled his eyes as his cocked jerked for you.

“Such a good little slut.” 

“Fuck…” 

You realized the breath you’d been holding as you listened for his voice.

“Your pussy is so beautiful Peach. And god, you taste so good. Just like a sweet peach.”

Steve knew he had you in the palm of his hand. But fuck, you had him in yours too. 

“But your cunt is so tiny. I’m gonna needs to get you ready for me, Baby.”

“Is it going to hurt me?” you whined. 

Steve was about to explode at your little innocent voice asking the most nasty question.

“Yes, Peach. It is,” he growled as your anticipation reached 100.

Your breath sped up and so did your fingers. Steve grunted, his fist moving faster, thumb swiping the copious dribbles of precum dripping from his slit.

He should have known it was over as soon as he opened your message.

Hot sex was happening.

Electronically.

As the coil in your belly wind tighter, you realized with both joy and dismay that you were addicted.

“Steve, “m so close…” 

“Of course you are.” 

Steve soaked up your cute little sex sounds, thirsty for more. 

“You know what I’m thinking about, Doll?” 

A shaky breath was your only response. Steve continued.

“I think I want to tie you up. Silk ropes all over you, pretty little knots. I’d tie your arms behind your back, so those tits would sit up pretty for me to slap, lick and suck. That ass would be tied up so sweet and open so I could eat it.”

Your eyes rolled at the sensations his words and your fingers were sending to your clit. 

“I’d fuck your throat and cum all over that soft, sweet body. Over and over, while I tease your greedy little cunt. I want to see it drip down your delicious nipples, your belly, your hungry pussy, your pretty face. I need to see all of you covered in my cum. Everywhere, marking you as mine…Mine.” 

You gasped, and then moaned and your entire body tightened up then released.

Your mouth hinged open as you came. 

“Mine,” Steve hissed, tightening the knots around you both and jerking his cock until cum spurted out. He listened to your breathing and knew that you’d just cum as well. 

Suddenly, he missed you.

“You good, Peach?”

You hesitated.You heard the yearning in his voice and you wanted to be in his arms, but you lied to him anyway.

“Yeah.”

Steve smiled at you. He shook his head even though you couldn’t see.

“Sweet dreams. See you tomorrow.”

“Night Steve.”

—---

You needed a distraction.

Steve looked so delicious this morning, sitting on stage and serving art intellectual in a dark turtleneck and brown corduroy suit. A suit that was tailored to the detriment of everyone who looked at him. 

Holy shit.

This man was wearing a corduroy suit and he made it look damn good.  

And he made you feral.

You decided to give your cousin a hard time to prevent yourself from becoming a simp.

“You look like that damn heart eyes emoji, ya know.”

She didn’t look at you as you yanked her chain. She just continued to follow Bucky’s every move and lit up when he glanced her way. She was gone, girl.

You teased her some more until you saw Steve. You sighed and gazed at him, straightening your spine as you remembered how he made you cum twice yesterday. And he’d hardly touched you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Steve’s head turned. Those mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared in an instant. For a moment, you were frozen. Pinned in your seat by his magnetism.

This feeling was so heady.

When you realized you’d been caught staring Steve down, you tried to change the unspoken subject.

“Bucky is pretty much the man.”

“Fucking-A.” 

Her chuckle was all-knowing. Then she read you.

“Steve is the shit too.”

You couldn’t front anymore.

“He’s amazing. I had no idea about everything that he does. Have to say, I’m impressed.”

She was speechless and so were you. You both continued enjoying the forum when your phone buzzed.

You look beautiful today. You’re my favorite thing to study. Can’t wait for today’s art experience. Meet me at the Laguardia Place entrance immediately after the talk. Sunlight is precious.

You were his favorite thing to study!

You waited on the edge of your seat until the end of the summit. Then you were up and walking out toward the entrance post haste.

The hair on the back of your neck raised when you saw Steve watching you from the door of Rosenthal Pavilion.

His smile when you made eye contact knocked the breath out of your lungs.

In that moment, you realized that you were in love with Steven Grant Rogers. 

Holy hell.

His deep voice greeted you as you arrived.

“I’m anxious to get started.”

Steve searched your face and found a different look from the partially closed off expression you’d showed him since Thanksgiving.

Your face was open and trusting. His heart did a funny thing in his chest. It was almost too good to be true.

Could you love him, too?

He tempered his mood with sensible words, filling the space that he wanted to fill with romantic declarations.

“I’m going to take you to my favorite artistic landmark in the city. I’ve loved it since I was a boy.”

You smiled up at him and took his hand.

“Let’s not waste any more time.”

—--

The driver that was taking you and Steve to your meeting place was the same one who picked you up from the airport. The one that your cousin knew so well. 

You stared at the back of his head and then glanced over at Steve. He raised his eyebrow at you because of the look on your face. You grinned back, then leaned forward to tap the driver on the shoulder.

“So… Nico…” 

Your eyes cut over to Steve with a mischievous look. His heart beat out of his chest at the joy you were serving him along with your chaos. 

“You ever drive my cousin and Bucky around the city?”

Nico stole a look at you and smiled.

“Yes ma’am. All the time.”

“Do they ever do the nasty back here…?”

Nico laughed heartily as Steve shook his head.

“Peach…”

You shushed Steve.

“Hush, I’m trying to get the dirt. Now Nico, tell the truth…”

Steve sat back and listened to your unhinged behavior on the drive over to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. Your spirit and your laugh made him warm inside, despite the cold day.

—-

Nico stopped the car at the Washington Avenue entrance to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Steve got out, shouldered his backpack, and then reached for your gloved hand with his own.

For some reason, you felt like a princess as you stepped on the path. The air was crisp, and there were traces of snow lingering on the ground.

You came out of the car chattering and laughing, making Steve’s heart light.

“I know Nico wouldn’t crack, but I could tell from the way he went red. Those whores….”

“Literal Freaks,” replied Steve. “Bunny is an appropriate nickname for him, because he and your cousin…” 

Steve shook his head and rolled his eyes, although he fantasized about christening the backseat of the Lincoln for you and him.

The wrought-iron gate creaked softly behind you as you entered the Garden, and you looked around in wonder as the gravel path crunched beneath your boots. A magnificent metal and glass structure was in front of you.

“This is the Steinhardt Conservatory. Wait until you see the inside.”

Steve smiled and took your hand as you stepped through the glass doors into sudden warmth shaking your head at him. 

There was a heavy scent of flowers and a haze of the waning rays of sunlight beaming through the glass panels overhead. It gave everything golden highlights, including you and Steve. 

You squeezed his hand as you looked around in awe. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

And then you noticed that he was looking at you. 

“Yes…”

You grew warm as you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“It’s like a completely different world in here.”

“It’s our world for the moment. Just you and me.”

He wanted to add the word Forever, but he didn’t. You felt it though.

You started on an indoor path and Steve pointed out the unique flowers and plants in his warm baritone. You were impressed, again, with how much he knew.

Steve Rogers was not a stereotypical mobster. This was a man who followed a path in life that landed him where he didn’t want to be and was trying to make up for it. 

As he spoke, Steve drew you into his enthusiasm, and you found yourself smiling and relaxing, asking questions and marveling at the vast indoor space. 

When you came to a small alcove furnished with a wooden bench and beneath a sprawling magnolia tree, Steve stopped and took his backpack off his shoulder, and then taking off his coat and draping it over the bench as you did the same.

"Please, sit." 

His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the subtle command.

You hesitated. 

"Why?"

"So I can sketch you."

Your stomach did an odd little flip. 

"Here? Now? I wanted to see your sketches, not be your sketches."

You performed on stage in front of hundreds with barely no clothes on and you were so nervous to let Steve Rogers sketch you with winter layers of clothes on. What was wrong with you?

Steve raised his eyebrow and his gaze swept up your body slowly, making you shiver. Clothes couldn’t stop the intimate of that look.

“Too late for that.”

You raised your eyebrow at him and you felt irrationally happy. Steve had drawn you.

“Do you not trust me?”

You regarded him, guardian your reaction because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

“I do Steve. I trust you.”

It was true.

Steve smiled. 

“Then please, sit down.”

You gave in with a sigh and lowered yourself onto the bench. 

"Fine," you muttered. "But no weird artistic liberties. I better have a nose."

Steve chuckled, flipping open the sketchbook. 

"I make no promises."

You watched as he proceeded to balance the sketchbook against his bended knee. Then he looked at you seriously, holding your gaze for a moment before his attention returned to the page, and his pencil began gliding effortlessly across the paper. 

His thick fingers were surprisingly agile, moving with long, sure strokes. But then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised, with the way his fingers had previously made you feel…

For a few moments, the only sound was the soft scratch of his pencil against paper. 

You attempted to sit still, staring at the plants around you. You also tried to pretend that you weren’t aware of the way he studied you with that relentless focus, switching his gaze between you and the sketchbook.

After a few minutes, Steve made a soft noise, something between a hum and a chuckle.

“What?” you asked, turning your head and narrowing your eyes at him.

“Nothing.” 

He didn’t look up. But he spoke.

“It’s just... you’re trying so hard not to move, but you’re fidgeting anyway.”

You caught the hint of humor in his tone and it made you a little too happy again, so you decided to cause problems. 

"Well, maybe if you didn’t look at me like that.”

"Like what?" 

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, looking up at you quickly, then back down.

You fidgeted again.

"You know…"

Steve chuckled, deep and low and shook his head.

"Oh. Am I ‘sparkling my eyes at you again?’”

You scowled at him and he laughed.

“I'm an artist, Peach. I study form." 

His eyes traced up and down your body, lighting you on fire again.

You clenched your thighs together to fight the flow of arousal threatening your thighs. This was dangerous. Steve was dangerous.

"You're insufferable, Steven."

“Well, can you suffer on a little longer, so I can capture more detail?”

You cocked your head in that adorable way.

“What details do you need?”

“I need…” 

Steve looked at you like he needed all of you. 

And he did. 

“I want to capture the way your nose crinkles when you're annoyed, or how you're gripping the bench like you're about to get up and run.”

You unclenched your hands and sat back.

“You’re making me nervous.”

He tapped his pencil against the sketchbook. Then he looked down again to continue drawing.

"Interesting."

"What is?"

He licked those red lips of his and your eyes tracked the movement.

"The fact that I make you nervous."

The way he was looking at you made butterflies riot in your stomach. That special electricity was buzzing around you both. 

Suddenly, his pencil stopped. Then, without warning, he reached out, brushing his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face slightly.

You stiffened.

"Hold still," he murmured. 

His thumb ghosted over the curve of your jaw and settled at the edge of your throat.

Your breath hitched.

Steve’s eyes were dark now and his voice was softer when he spoke again, but there was an edge to it now, hinting at something rough beneath the surface.

“You always do this?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“React like this when someone touches you.”

You pursed your lips together and shook your head. 

Just you.

"You’re doing it again," he mused as he stroked the side of your throat with his thumb.

"What, Mr. Rogers?"

You were about to combust. He clenched his jaw and increased the pressure of his fingers on your neck.

"Fighting it."

"I- I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do," he intoned, his voice stern.

"Don’t hide from me, Peach." 

Your pulse beat beneath his fingertips.

"You think I don’t notice how you react to me?" 

Steve’s hand grasped your throat, pressing more firmly before he let go.

"Hold. Still," he murmured, those blue, blue eyes stormy.

His fingers tilted your face up with authority now. You froze for a moment as his thumb came up to pull your chin down to open your mouth.

“Breathe.”

He slowly pulled his hand away and you had to stop yourself from chasing his touch. 

Steve clenched his jaw, trying to restrain himself. If he had to guess, you were wet and ready for him to do whatever he wanted to you right now. But he willed himself to be patient. 

He picked up his pencil again, rolling it between his fingers, like nothing had happened. 

"Good girl," he offered to the page as he returned to his sketch.

Steve knew what he was doing. Knew exactly how much he affected you. You waited impatiently, clenching your thighs together desperately as his pencil continued to scratch on the paper. 

"Done," he said, as he lifted the sketchbook toward you.

You gasped as you looked at the page. 

The drawing was stunning. Steve had captured you with uncanny accuracy, from the curve of your parted lips to the shading of the different colors in your eyes. The hollow of your throat seemed to pulse, and you could almost see the indentations of his fingers. 

The portrait was beautiful. And it told you everything you needed to know about how he felt.

“This is… how can I thank you?”

Steve’s heart flipped in his chest as he reached out and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him on the bench.

"Steve…"

His eyes went to your mouth.

"Say that again," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

Your whole body was burning, but you stayed quiet. You were paralyzed with the possibilities.

"No? Too shy now?"

His voice made you impossibly wet. If you gave in, you were about to get everything you didn’t know that you wanted. And that scared you.

You let out a shaky breath. 

"Steve."

Something flickered behind his eyes. Something hot.

“Have I told you that I love the way you say my name?”

His hand came up again against your side, slowly, more deliberate. His fingers moved over the curve of your side, and slid against your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple.

He continued, tracing over your cleavage and finally landing against your throat again, pressing against your pulse and driving you crazy.

"You're shaking," he murmured, voice low, thick with need.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and gave you a kiss against your throat. And he lingered, lips warm against your skin, before pulling back just enough to smile against your skin.

Your whimper told him so much. 

"You act so tough, but you’re so easy to ruin."

You raised your arms and pulled him close, fingers playing at the nape clutching the hair spilling over his collar.

“You made me this way, Steve. And I don’t want you to stop.”

His now dark blue eyes searched yours as his fingers tightened on your waist. 

“What does that mean, Peach?”

He’d pulled you closer, his eyes on your face as he waited for your answer. The anticipation was so much. He huffed and then dove into the curve of your neck, inhaling and tasting you there, as if he couldn’t help himself. His large hands palmed your breasts, pressing your nipples insistently.

“Oh…my….Steve!”

You squirmed in his grip.

“I asked you a question. Do I need to stop touching you so you can answer?”

“Please, no, Steve. Need you...”

You were the queen of changing the subject.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

His lips were on the curve of your jaw, so close to your lips. You whined. He cocked his eyebrow, the question not so silent.

You huffed, making your decision to go for it as your hands came to the side of his face so that he knew your intentionality. You wanted to look into his eyes when you said it.

“Moment of honesty? I want you Steve. I feel…I want to be yours. Really been yours since you put your hands on me in Atalanta. I can’t categorize or control this feeling. So I’m giving in. Are you ready for the chaos that is me being yours?”

Steve’s eyes lit up and he reached for you, pulling you into his lap as his lips crashed into yours. His hands were everywhere. He tugged you closer as he kissed you and both hands came down to grab your ass and pull you onto his erection. His desire for you was apparent.

When you broke apart, you chased his lips and then kissed him again, greedy.

“I’ve been ready. Been yours for a while, now Peach. Since the day I saw you…”

His voice was gentle and he was looking at you like you were fine porcelain. You felt so safe in his arms. He pulled back to look you in the eye.

“And this feeling? This is exactly how it should feel when it's meant to be.”

He kissed you again and his mouth took possession of yours in a way that was tender, yet full of promise. 

“I gotta let you know that if you’re mine, I’m gonna give you what you need. When you need it. Do you want that? Do you trust me with that?”

This was the important question.

“Yes, please. I want that, Mr. Rogers, sir. And I trust you.” 

"That’s so fucking hot… but I’m trying to behave. Even though I reserved the pavilion just for us, we’re still in a public place,” he murmured. 

His voice was calm, controlled. But those sea blue eyes told a different story.

"You call this behaving?"

You rolled your hips against his cock. Steve kissed you again and let out a sexy chuckle, then stood you both up, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"If I wasn’t," he murmured, "you’d already be begging me for more." 

You linked your arms around his neck and looked up at him as the cutest woman on earth.

“What if I don’t want you to behave? Like you said, you have the pavilion reserved. You can bend me over the bench and fuck me raw. Right here.”

Steve’s pupils took over his eyes and his jaw clenched. Your stomach dropped as he looked as if he was about to do just as you suggested. But he took a deep breath and smiled.

“We’ll explore that kink later. Our first time needs to be in private.”

Steve reached for your coat and helped you with it before putting his own on and gathering his things. He took your hand and led you out and across the grounds. He pointed to a familiar building. 

“Your hotel is right there. Or do you want me to call Nico to take us to my place?”

You looked up at Steve as your breath vaporized in the cold air.

“We need my hotel. I’m ready. Right now.”

—--

You were in your room again, not entirely sure how you arrived, the journey through the park hurried and full of anticipation. You weren’t thinking too hard, you just knew you needed Steve. Immediately.

You were pushing his coat and blazer off his body and feeling his chest. The steady thrum of his pulse tapped a staccato in your palm.

“Your heart's beating so fast,” you whispered. 

“You do that to me, Peach.” 

“Really?” you questioned, suddenly unsure of yourself.

“You have no idea how much power you have, do you?” 

“Me?” you asked in a small voice. 

Steve nodded.

“You drive me crazy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.” 

It was confession time.

“It’s you that has the power, Steve. I can't stop thinking about you. Your voice gets me there.” 

You felt tongue tied as you told him your raw feelings, all the while taking off your and his clothes. 

“Sometimes I — I think I'm going to cum just from hearing you speak. Today, at NYU, I could hardly sit still. You're like a drug, pulling all my attention.” 

Steve’s shirt was off now and you were in your bra and he pulled you near him to get his mouth on your tits.

“When I'm near you, I'm so hard it aches.”

 “Really?” you whispered. “Are you aching right now?” 

Steve groaned as you pulled back to unzip your skirt and take off your boots. He leaned back against the wall and palmed his crotch over his pants. 

“Like you wouldn't believe.” 

Steve couldn’t believe that he had you here like this, giving yourself to him. He had to tell you the truth.

“Look at me, Peach.”

You looked into his eyes.

“I’m In love with you.”

His rough voice pulled an involuntary sound from you. 

“You're mine, Peach You always have been.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart thudded against yor ribs.

“Oh god, Steve. I- I love you too.”

Your smile blinded him. If he blinked it was because of that. Not that he was going to cry. 

Not at all. 

He laughed as an expression of joy and then your lips met.

The kiss wasn't soft or sweet. This was feral, sharp, and intense. You moaned into his mouth, sucking his bottom lip into yours as he unhooked your bra.

“I fucking want you,” you whimpered into his mouth. 

Steve smiled against your lips.

“Good, cause I fucking need you, my sweet Peach.”

Steve stood, looming over you, all big and fucking magnificent. The vision of him, all lithe muscles covered in smooth skin, and light feathering of hair making its way down his torso, between the defined planes of his abs and into his waistband, was… Good Lord.

You licked your lips, mouth instantly dry. 

Steve’s mouth hooked up on one side as his fingers worked his belt and fly. His pants fell in a matter of seconds, and there he was, wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.

Steve was all thick thighs, and long, powerful legs, his hand slowly stroking himself over the sizable bulge in his underwear. 

You gaped at him. 

Then, he pulled his underwear down, eyes on your face for your reaction. It was classic, your mouth hinged open and your eyes were like saucers. There was no way anyone could be that perfect.

His dick was long and wide, at least eight or nine inches, and curved eloquently (if a dick could do that) against his abs. It was so pretty and your mouth watered for it at the same time your pussy clenched, as you were thinking he was correct. You would struggle to take him.

His smirked deepened as he reached for you and pulled your panties down slowly, his short fingernails scratching your legs and making you shiver.

For a moment he just stared, drinking in the sight of you spread before him

“Fucking sublime,” Steve breathed, the words filled with reverence. 

“I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby.” 

He leaned over you and set about doing just that, kissing you deep and filthy, tongue diving to claim every inch of your mouth. You cried out, scratching at his broad shoulders as he suckled and nipped, worshiping your breasts until you were mindless with sensation. 

Steve took his time tracing your torso with his lips, teeth and tongue, learning your body and  paying attention to every sigh of pleasure as he climbed down your body.

The press of his mouth to your pussy made your back arch, and a ragged moan escape your mouth. Steve growled into you, the vibrations running through your soaked cunt.

He parted your pussy lips with his thumbs, and dove to lick your clit with the hot velvet of his tongue. 

Slow, thorough licks made you writhe beneath him. 

“That’s it,” he whispered, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Ride my face, Sweetheart. Fuck my mouth ‘til you cum all over it.” 

You arched like a bow as he latched on to your clit and sucked, two thick fingers thrusting deep to stroke along your inner wall. His practiced fingers found your g-spot and massaged it ruthlessly, curling and scissoring until you sobbed his name.

“Love when you call my name, Peach.”

He looked at you like you were something to be worshipped, and then continued what he was doing. When Steve bit down gently on your clit, your orgasm crashed over you in a burst of white light. 

You shuddered through the aftershocks, trembling as Steve lapped at your folds. Each lick sent a jolt of electricity through you, on the edge of too much. 

Rising to his knees, the thick, heavy length of him rose up again, even more swollen and glistening at the tip. 

Steve notched the thick head of his cock at your entrance and his eyes crossed as he slowly sank into your tight, dripping heat. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

Inch after thick inch, he claimed you, stretched you, with a delicious push/pull of pleasure/pain. His length was one thing, but his girth was everything.

When he bottomed out, you both groaned at the intensity of the connection. He looked you in our eyes as your hearts pounded in sync, your breaths mingling as you got used to his size.

“I’ve never felt so full, Stevie…”

You quivered in his arms. And he knew that he was utterly possessed by you. It was more than just physical; it was an overwhelming sense of rightness. 

“Perfect,” Steve rasped.

“So fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Like you were made for me.”

He dropped his head and trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, pausing to suck hard at your pulse point. 

“Please,” you whimpered, the ache between your thighs growing unbearable. “Move.”

“As you wish.” he whispered, brows knitted together. 

You whimpered and your hands grasped the sheets as he started to move. He bent and sucked your nipple hard, causing a jolt of electricity through your body. Your brain was cloudy and your scratched his back as your eyes shuttered closed.

“Open your eyes, Peach,” Steve ordered darkly. 

As he looked you in your beautiful eyes, Steve couldn’t hold back any longer. He started increasing his pace until he was fucking you roughly, pushing your knees to your chest. 

“Yes.. feels so good Steve. Oh my godddddd, fuck me!”

Steve’s eyes roamed your body as he did as you asked. Your beautiful breasts bounced. The bed knocked against the wall and you gasped for breath, your face transfixed on the eye contact between you and Steve.

He was lost, one hand gripped your hair, and the other braced on the headboard. He fucked you hard, grinding against your clit with every stroke. 

You were whimpering, on the verge of screaming as you two made noise up and down the hotel hallway.

He leaned up and grasped your throat, gritting his teeth as he asked a question.

“You want me to cum inside you? You trying to have my baby?”

“Unnnnnnghhhh! Maybe….” 

You opened your eyes and pouted up at him.

“Paint my walls, Steve...”

Steve choked on air as he spurted hot cum into your welcoming pussy, but he pulled out, shooting the last jet of cum on your clit and pussy lips. Then, like a heathen, he bent between your thighs and started licking. 

You sobbed, writhing as he devoured you. 

“Need to eat you more than anything, my sweet, sweet Peach. 

“Steve, Stevie… oh my god!” 

You clutched his hair, tugging sharply. It was too much.

“Oh my God. Please Steveeeee!” 

He raised his head, grinning as you fully collapsed, limp and spent. Your pussy was tender, your face flushed, your eyes gleaming. 

You were eautiful.

You looked at him and shook your head as he took you in his arms. 

“Are you mine?” 

“Yes,” you whimpered out. 

“I would die for you, Y/N L/N,” Steve murmured against your temple, panting. He held you tight, carding his fingers in your hair.

“I promise to keep you safe, and give you everything you need, I promise you that.”

“I believe you, Steve. I trust that.”

—

You and Steve stayed up late, ordered room service and talked about a lot of things, music, your parents, his friendship with Bucky, Nat, and Steve, everything.

You laughed and cried, and then settled back in his arms in the dark to sleep, his hand rubbing your hip as his breathing began to slow.

“Steve, can I ask you a question?”

It had been nagging at you for a while.

His sleepy voice answered you.

“Shoot.”

You chuckled.

“That’s just it. Have you ever… have you ever killed someone?”

Steve stirred, pulling you closer to him and moving his mouth next to your ear.

“Hmmmmm. I’d have to marry you before I answered that question.”

Your heart slammed against your chest and your eyes went wide in the dark.

“What?”

You tried to keep your voice even. You didn’t know what this feeling was that came over you. Steve continued, seemingly calm and not spiraling like you were.

“You can’t be compelled to testify against your spouse. It was a joke, Peach.”

You were silent for a good while.

“Oh.”

Steve stirred, leaning up against his elbow.

“Do you… are you saying that you want to get married?”

Steve thought about the ring that he had at his penthouse.

You laughed.

“Nah… what we looking like just up and getting married like that? We hardly know each other.”

“True. But when you know, you know.”

Steve kissed you and the small amount of logic in your brain was rapidly dissipating.

“Would it make us look crazy…?”

You could sense Steve’s smile in the dark.

“…Or would it be so beautiful?” He replied.

Steve wrapped you up in his arms and settled down again. Your mind spun as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm and you spoke again. 

He was probably asleep, but you had to get it out.

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

The light switched on and you were staring into the beautiful blue eyes of Steve Rogers.

——

I’m so anxious about this one! Please let me know how you feel? Reblog, comment, like. TIA!

[saetoru]

after 10 hours on campus i’m home 🥲

[miniimight]

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[amirasainz]

Can you please do driver reader is literally the absolute Angel of the paddock and everyone adores her, she’s the cutest sweetest little bean that you can’t help but love, she’s a Redbull driver and Christian always fawns over her and talks about his ‘daughter’ ( it’s clear she’s the favourite ). Even the older drivers love her e.g kimi, jenson, Seb, mark. Platonic pleaseeee

Omg, that is such a sweet idea. I did the format a bit differently, hope you don't mind.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

The Redbull Princess

YN YLN was a known name in the motor sport world. Not only was she the youngest driver currently on the grid - only 19 years - but she is the first female to ever drive for RedBull. Not oy that, but also the only woman on the grid.

Despite having a different gender, the other drivers never treated her bad. In fact, one could say that YN got the whole "Princess Treatment" from the drivers and teams. Each driver has taken a special place in her life.

Exhibit A: The protective one

The paddock was buzzing with energy, reporters swarming like bees near the Red Bull garage. YN was prepping for her media rounds, already feeling the weight of the spotlight on her. As she stepped into the press pen, a group of journalists immediately approached, firing off questions.

"YN, how do you feel about the pressure of being the youngest driver? Do you think it affects your performance?"

Before she could answer, Max appeared out of nowhere, slipping between her and the reporters with a grin that was anything but friendly. "I think that's enough for now," Max said, his blue eyes narrowing. "She’s got a race to focus on. Back off."

The reporters, visibly intimidated by the reigning World Champion, quickly shuffled away. YN let out a breath of relief, nudging Max with her elbow.

"You know, I can handle them."

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, steering her away from the crowd. "Yeah, but why would I let them bother you when I can have fun scaring them off?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. "But thanks."

Exhibit B: The gossip King

YN walked into the Ferrari garage, still buzzing from practice. She found Charles leaning against his car, drinking water. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Charlie! Did you see that move I pulled in turn 9?" she said, excitedly plopping down next to him.

Charles grinned, instantly slipping into gossip mode. "I did! Smooth as butter. But did you hear about Fernando's radio message? He was furious about the tire degradation. Drama!"

YN's eyes widened. "No way! Spill all the tea, Leclerc."

Charles leaned in, whispering. "Apparently, his engineer told him to manage his tires better, and Nando snapped, saying, ‘I am managing them!’" He mimicked Fernando’s accent, making YN burst into laughter.

Exhibit C: The helping hand

The young RedBull driver just exited her car, when she felt someone grabbing her Birking Bag. When she quickly turned her head, she was meat with the sight of Carlos not only caring her bag in his hands and her coat on his arm, but carring his own stuff as well.

"Carlito, what are you doing? You don’t have to carry all my stuff for me." she told him, after they started walking towards the entrance.

Carlos mate an irritated sound, before responding to her. "Nonsense, hermana. Your job is to win this weekend. So let me help you with all the other things, comprende?"

Before Carlos could get an answer, she threw her arms around him, whispering a small thank you in his ear.

Exhibit D: The personal chef

YN sat in the Red Bull hospitality area, poking at her plate of food with a discontented look. Yuki walked over, noticing her lack of enthusiasm.

"Not good enough for you, huh?" Yuki teased, sliding into the seat across from her.

YN scrunched up her nose. "I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t eat this."

Without missing a beat, Yuki stood up. "I’ll make you something. What do you want?"

Her eyes brightened. "Yuki, really? You don’t have to!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, you’re picky. I know that. What do you want? Miso soup? Onigiri?"

YN tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Onigiri sounds perfect."

Within minutes, Yuki was back, placing a plate of freshly made onigiri in front of her. YN took a bite and sighed contentedly. "You're the best, Yuki."

He grinned. "I know."

Exhibit E: The "annoying" prankster

YN was busy trying to make sure her helmet and gear were ready when suddenly, her entire backpack fell off the counter with a loud thud, spilling everything.

"Lando!" she yelled, spinning around, catching the British driver grinning like a mischievous child.

"What?" Lando said, feigning innocence, hands up. "It slipped."

YN gave him a look but couldn’t help the smile creeping on her face. Lando always knew how to lift her spirits, even if it was through relentless pranks.

"One day, Norris, one day!" she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I’ll be waiting," Lando chuckled, before helping her pick up her things

Exhibit F: The shoulder to cry on

"I just can't believe it. I was so close. How did I manage to bin the car into the wall on the last corner" muttered the 19 year old. Her face pressed in Oscars neck, who was busy stroking her hair. He knew better than to interrupt her during her rant. Knowing it would help her when she got everything of her chest.

After a moment, she shakily breathed out. Oscar knew that the only thing he could do now was to let her fall apart while he would catch every piece of her.

And that's what he did. While she cried her heart out, Oscar held her close to him, rocking them slowly in a soothing matter. It felt like nothing could happen to her in Oscars arms. He would protect her from the outside world as long as she needed

Sometimes actions speak louder than words

Exhabit G: The fashionista

Lewis stood beside YN, eyeing her racing suit critically before smirking. "That’s not gonna work."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

He pointed at her boots. "Those shoes? No way. They don’t match the rest of the suit."

YN raised an eyebrow. "I'm not trying to walk the runway, Lewis. I’m racing."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "You can do both. Come on, let’s get you a new pair of shoes. You’ll thank me later."

And true to his words, YN received a new pair of racing shoes only a few hours later. They certainly looked better than her old pair.

Exhibit H: The mother-hen

George was hovering near the buffet in the paddock, watching YN closely as she piled food onto her plate. He narrowed his eyes as she bypassed the salad section.

"YN, you need to eat more greens. And have you had any water today?" George asked, his tone dangerously close to motherly.

YN groaned. "George, I’m fine. I had water this morning."

"That’s not enough," he replied sternly, filling a glass and handing it to her. "Drink. Now."

She pouted but took the glass. "Okay, Mom."

Exhibit I: The proud dad

During a press conference, Christian Horner stood beside YN, smiling at the reporters. "You all know my daughter here is the star of the show," he said, gesturing towards YN.

YN blushed at the comment. "Christian!"

The reporters laughed, but YN knew Christian wasn’t entirely joking. He had taken her under his wing from day one, treating her like family. And she couldn’t have been more grateful.

Exhibit J: Bwoah

In a rare quiet moment, YN had somehow convinced Kimi Räikkönen — the Iceman himself — to do a TikTok trend with her. As the camera rolled, Kimi deadpanned his way through the trend, barely moving but somehow nailing it.

"Thanks for doing this, Kimi," YN said, grinning as they finished.

Kimi shrugged. "Bwoah, don’t mention it, kid. But don’t tell the other drivers that you are my favourite"

YN laughed. "Deal."

[2am-writing]

You're a Coward Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader 

Category: Angst to fluff

Summary: Steve has been avoiding y/n for the last month. It’s not until you’re shit faced at a party for him to confess what’s really going on.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, taking shots, smoking, smoking weed while driving (I do not condone this behavior this is just here for the sake of the story and vibes LOL), throwing up, fighting, kissing

WC: 2.5

A/n: Second “fanfic” “imagine” esc post!! I really hope you like it. This was fun to write and please don’t judge my shitty writing lollll I’m still working on it and lots of room for improvement (: 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I still think he’s into you” Nancy laughed at y/n as she told Nancy the infamous story of how one day her and Steve were the bestest of friends, inseparable really. How they did everything together- movie nights, parties, dinners, even sleepovers. Steve and y/n became close very quickly ever since y/n moved to Hawkin’s about a year ago. But one day later everything had seemed to banish out of nowhere. 

It crept up slowly, and though y/n was trying not to read too much into it at first, she soon realized she should’ve because when she finally came to terms with what Steve was doing it was too late, and he was gone- Not literally gone as in disappeared but, gone from her life. 

It first started with Steve not returning your calls right away, letting them go unanswered for hours, until those hours turned to days. He stopped walking you to class and meeting up before and after school. He avoided you at lunch, and started making excuses to get out of hanging out. All which ultimately led to him completely dodging your presence.

Finally when it became too much for y/n she pressed him in the hallway, on the verge of breaking down, demanding to know what she did that made Steve want nothing to do with her anymore. Steve’s heart was shattered at the thought that he let y/n think that this was her fault. But overall, he thought losing her like this was a better alternative than getting rejected and ruining the friendship that way. So when she pressed him that day in the school hallway, it took everything in him to say nothing and just walk away.  

Over the course of that month Robin countlessly called Steve an idiot, she suspected the feelings he had for y/n but nothing was confirmed. Steve was too stubborn to admit to anything. And Robin too- like Nancy, tried telling y/n

‘I think he’s just an idiot who’s into you.’ But without confirmation, y/n just accepted that Steve had a newfound hatred for her and the only thing could do was bury her feelings for him and forget it. 

As for y/n, she spent a lot of her free time with Robin when she wasn’t with or working with Steve, and Eddie too- they were just friends of course but they did get significantly closer ever since Steve walked out of y/n’s life. 

10pm hit as Nancy, Jonathan, and y/n stood outside the Wheeler’s house waiting for Eddie to pick them up for a party. You weren’t really sure whose party it was, but Eddie knew the guy which automatically meant you and your friends were invited. 

You were excited, and felt like this would be a good opportunity to finally let loose and have fun after how stressful this month has been for you. You wore a tight black mini skirt, a baby tee that rose just above your belly button, and knee high boots. You wanted to feel good about yourself tonight, forget about Steve and everything he put you through. You were never much of a partier and you definitely preferred smoking and relaxing than drinking and partying, but you knew a switch up would be good for you.

When Eddie finally pulled up you hopped in the passenger seat, as Johnathan and Nancy sat in the back.

“Hey- you clean up nice” Eddie laughed at y/n while passing her the joint he just lit. Y/n accepted the joint gracefully and took a hit of it, before Eddie started driving off to the party,

“Not so bad yourself Munson,” She coughed out before taking another hit, 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie stammered, “One, save some for me-” He took the joint back smoking it, “Two, slow your roll and wait till we step foot in the party before you completely lose yourself.” 

The drive over to the party was no more than 20 minutes. On arrival, Jonathan and Nancy went their separate ways as they are more of the inverted partier type. As for you and Eddie, he took you straight to the kitchen to get started on drinks, 

“Okay doll, what’re you drinking tonight?” 

“Tequila,” You answered without hesitation, Eddie was taken off guard by my answer. He knew that wasn't my typical drink of choice. His eyes widened and eyebrows raised,

“Well shit y/l/n, why do I have a feeling I’m gonna be carrying you out of this place tonight,” He laughed pouring your guys’ first shot of the night. 

You cheered your shot before taking it with ease, then taking a hit of a joint you just lit. Eddie’s eyes looked at you in disbelief as you held the joint in your mouth inhaling while pouring another shot before- he chimed in,

“I don’t know if I should be proud or concerned for you,” 

You shook your head laughing, "I just need to say fuck it and let loose Eddie, I’ve been needing this for a while, okay."

Eddie is aware of the situation that went down with Steve, he’s the one who has been at your side and at your every call, always there to comfort you. He knew how much Steve meant to you, though he never understood why you liked him so much, but you just claimed he never got to know Steve like you did.

“Doll, I know you need this, just be careful please I can’t babysit all night-” Eddie got cut off by his friends welcoming him and dragging him out to the back patio.

All honesty you were fine being left alone, tequila made you wanna dance and that’s exactly what you went to do.. After you took another shot of course. 

You slammed your shot glass on the counter after taking it, then filling up your red solo cup with a mixed drink and hit the dance floor. 

You were doing exactly what you had planned on doing, letting loose and having fun. A benefit to going to a party where you don’t even know who’s hosting it is you don't know a lot of the people here- making dancing with random guys a lot easier.

Whilst in the middle of quite literally throwing it back on some guy whose name you didn't even know, your body suddenly froze up, you felt as if your lungs had started constricting, and anger rose inside of you noticed Steve fucking Harrington walking in the door with Robin- 

‘I should’ve known, a friend of Eddie’s is more than likely a friend of Robin’s of course they’re fucking here.’

You sighed, taking a deep breath in, 

‘Tonight is my night of fun and letting lose, fuck Steve Harrington,’ 

You took another swig of your drink before continuing dancing, you were definitely feeling the alcohol hitting you now. 

Steve spotted you the moment he walked into the house. Jealously rose inside of him as he saw you dancing with some guy. But he still couldn't help but miss you and his heart felt like it was aching. That feeling followed up with the thought of rejection, and he couldn’t help but replay the moment in the hallway you two had shared when you were pressing him, he had never seen you so angry.

He quickly snapped back to reality, he could automatically tell you were drunk, he smiled to himself admiring how confident you looked dancing, drink in your hand, you looked as if you didn’t have a care in the world. He missed your presence. 

A few minutes later Steve found himself in the kitchen grabbing a beer. After taking a prolong drink he heard someone stumbling into the wall over towards the bathroom. 

With curiosity getting the best of him he peered around the corner, and there you were. Drunkenly stumbling, joint in your mouth, your hand pasted to the wall using it to guide you to the bathroom door.

When you reached the bathroom you had slammed the door behind you before placing your joint on the sink carefully, then falling to your knees in front of the toilet waiting for the contents in your stomach to rise up. 

Steve slowly approached the door listening to what you could be doing, he more just wanted to know that you were okay in there. The second he heard you start to vomit, worry washed over him. He lost control over himself and didn’t think twice before he opened the bathroom door. His eyebrows pinched together, sympathy in his eyes at the look of you hanging over the toilet sick. 

Your head had snapped over to the door upon it opening, your face had a look of anger then quickly dropping as you made eye contact realizing it was Steve, 

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Your words slurred,

“I know- I know you hate me,” Steve calmly said while closing the door behind him then kneeling down next to you pulling your hair out of you face and holding it back, “Just- just let me help you please,” 

Before you could respond you resumed throwing up and coughing in the toilet violently. Steve continued to hold your hair back while with the other hand he was rubbing small circles in your back calmly saying, “It’s okay, you’re okay- just breath,” 

Truth to be told, his presence felt very comforting, and as much as you wanted to kick him out of the bathroom, scream at him, and analyze this odd situation- You were far too crossed from the weed and alcohol to even think.  

“Why- are you- here Harrington,” You began choking on your words before tears started to form in your eyes, “You avoid me- for- a whole fucking- month, you’re just gone- and now you want to just show up again,” 

“I know- I know, I-”

Before Steve could finish his sentence you started vomiting again cutting off his sentence, his heart ached seeing you like this,

“Hey hun,” His tone gentle, “Can I please take you home, you can’t stay here like this,” 

As much as you hate to give in so easily you knew you were only gonna feel worse. Plus you had a feeling Eddie left the party already with a girl that was hitting on him on the back patio so this may be the best option for you,

“Okay,” You croaked out grabbing Steve’s shoulder to boost you up. Steve stood up with you wrapping his arm around you to help keep your balance,

“Okay- let’s go” 

He guided you outside the house, walking you to his car. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you inside. The world was spinning, your mind was racing yet it was also blank, you rested your head on the window feeling drowsy,

“Your house or mine hun,” 

“Steve-” you slurred, “I can’t go home like this,” 

"Okay," Steve nodded, driving off to his house. 

You blacked out during the car ride, you felt as if you were jumping in and out of reality, nothing felt real. One moment you were sitting in the passenger seat of Steve Harrington’s car, the next minute you were laying on his couch with a slightly better grasp of reality.

You slowly sat up rubbing your eyes not caring if you smeared your mascara. You noticed Steve in the kitchen holding a cup of water as he started walking towards you, 

“Here,” He said quietly, “Uh- We just got here- like 10 minutes ago- here drink this,” He hands you the cup and you drink the water reluctantly glaring at him, 

“How can you just act like nothing happened Steve? You were my best friend one day, and a shitty- selfish person the next.”

Steve sighs, embarrassed, and unable to look you in the eyes. He knows you’re right, he can’t just have you stay the night without explaining why he did what he did. He knew he had to tell you the truth, and he had to tell you tonight. 

“Do you remember the time- uh- we stayed up all night just talking in my car,” Steve’s demeanor was soft, he was staring at the ground breathing slowly,

“Yeah,” 

“I think about that night almost everyday you know,” He pauses taking another deep breath, “We talked all night- about everything- and you feel asleep on my shoulder at sunrise-” 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at Steve, “Yes Steve I get it. I was stupid enough to open up to you, about everything, my whole life. What? Just for you to ditch me months later and forget about everything?” Tears started forming in your eyes, you started to fill of rage,

“No, no- Just- please let me finish,” I stayed silent, 

“Y/n I love you-” 

“You’re a coward Steve Harrington,” You shouted at him, “You don’t abandon someone you love,” 

Steve’s head snapped up at you making eye contact, you could tell something changed in him, 

“Dammit y/n I fell in love with you!” He shouted. He maintained eye contact, your eyes widened, eyebrows raised, your breathing fasten, yet you remained silent,

“I’m sorry I abandoned our friendship y/n- I’m sorry I left you hanging. I was scared of your rejection, I didn’t wanna lose our friendship that way y/n. I know it doesn’t make sense, but at the time- you know- it did. I know I’m a coward from running away from those feelings, but I just knew you could never feel the same,” Steve stopped talking and started catching his breath,

“Steve, you're an idiot,” You gave him a saddened pitiful smile, “How could I not like you back? Of course I had feelings for you,” Steve’s expression softened as those words left your mouth,

“Really?” In the moment nothing but guilt washed over Steve, he was happy too- But more so he felt guilty, like a real jerk for wasting all that time away from you. But ultimately, all the worry he had of getting rejected from you had vanished. 

Steve inched closer to you, closing the gap that laid between you guys. He held eye contact with you momentarily, breaking it to stare at your lips. His hand cupped your cheek as he closed his eyes slowly pulling you into him. You leaned into his kiss, your hands hanging around his neck. 

You couldn’t believe this was finally happening, Steve felt like he was dreaming.

When your lips collided it felt as if the whole world around you disappeared. Your lips fit perfectly together moving in sync, his lips were soft and gentle with yours. Everything felt perfect. 

Steve paused pulling back, you were both smiling like idiots at each other catching your breath before Steve spoke up,

“I missed you so much- I’ve been wanting to do that for so long you have no idea,”

“No, you have no idea Harrington,” You laughed, “Don’t ever do any of that dumb shit again,”

Steve laughed shaking his head before pressing his forehead against yours, 

“Trust me, I’m never letting you go again honey.” 

[munsster]

lost in the woods

A/N: i literally couldnt resist getting my grubby hands on this brainrot song (gif creds: @longestwave)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: You, the party, and Steve attend an annual winter festival while he's feeling utterly lost in the woods. 3.7k words

Warnings: fluff, everything is corny xoxo, slight angst/anxiety/embarrassment, pet names (sweetheart, honey), flashback, general party shenanigans, GODAWFUL PINING, kissing

Robin had slapped a flyer for Tippecanoe’s First Annual Winter Festival on the counter, and Steve knew he had to be there with you somehow. He just had to make it subtle enough not to seem desperate but obvious enough that you knew he wanted you there. Which was easier than he predicted when he handed the flyer to Dustin and his eyes lit up at the idea of a real festival with live music and gingerbread and carnival games and sledding.

So you and Steve caravanned the children and Robin in your cars. Of course, driving separately was not Steve's ideal situation as he loves having you in his passenger seat picking the music and humming softly to yourself. But you had suggested it since there were more bodies than could fit in your station wagon. Robin had begged to differ, insisting there was always more space with a nod to the trunk, which made you giggle and subsequently made Steve absolutely melt. He didn't usually have the patience for her antics, but he would do anything to hear you laugh even if it meant contorting himself into your trunk.

However, he knows that's not the only reason you suggested separate cars with separate drivers. Things had been tense since the last time he saw you, and the guilt weighs on him like a cold metal barbell crushing his chest.

Your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, barely grasping, and you crane your neck towards him. You watch his honey eyes draw over your lips just before he leans in and kisses you.

His hand molds into your side, melting over the exposed skin like hot syrup. You press into his hold and smile with your fingers drawing up and across the back of his neck.

But the kiss short lived when he pulls away, shoving a hand through his ruffled hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Steve huffs, standing and backing away, "I don't know what I'm doing. I should go!"

He hadn't planned on rushing out of your house and into the snow without any of his belongings, but that's how it happened. It's the subject of most of his nightmares. The look on your face and the blaring sound the door made when it slammed. He had stood on your porch wringing his hands and exhaling puffs of hot air when he finally decided to go through with his running away.

But now he felt completely lost. And he could tell he was losing you, too.

Robin had thoroughly scolded him when he called her that night, telling him he's an idiot for walking out on you when you two were clearly and stupidly in love. He agreed and wallowed in self pity, listening to sappy love songs and soft rock until he eventually fell asleep.

This festival was his chance to make apologize. To fall for you all over again. If only he could get you alone without the squeaky voices of a handful of pestering teens.

El and Max drag you and Robin toward the steep hill carved out for sledding, and Steve follows with the group of boys hot on his trail. They coo taunting endearments at him, urging him to share a sled with you. Dustin hollers something or other about his probably fake girlfriend Suzie and how he officially has more game than Steve.

You look back at him sweetly and mouth 'sorry' before you plop down onto your sled. For all the trouble, you mean. You know the kids would be much calmer if they knew Steve didn't actually want you. And he clearly doesn't after the other night. And the way he seems so nonchalant. He shakes his head and mouths 'don't worry about it' as he shoves his jittery hands in his pockets. The wind whips at his hot face and he wishes he'd brought a scarf. Or some dignity.

"You have to win something for her," Lucas says once they reach the bottom of the hill, and Steve is hit with the realization that all of these twerps somehow got girlfriends before him. Although, Dustin's status is still questionable. He at least has the audacity to lie about his romantic endeavors.

"Yeah," Max agrees, pointing to the tip-a-jug stand lined with winter themed plushies, "Girls love stuffed animals. Plus, winning will be an excellent show of your strength."

"And generosity! The ladies love a charitable man," Mike adds. Steve rolls his eyes, worried you'll hear them from where you walk just a few paces ahead with Will and El. But maybe they have a point.

"I don't need advice from schoolchildren."

"You mean romantically successful schoolchildren!" Dustin chirps.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose while they beg him to win you something good. Finally, he gives in, sifting a few singles from his wallet. Max calls you over to watch Steve win, and you chuckle weakly, knowing they forced him into it somehow.

The vendor hands him a basket of blue bean bags with snowmen painted on them. Steve's heart races when you step up next to him.

"Good luck," you huff. You both know these games are rigged from the moment the cash hits the counter. But he smiles at you and holds one of the bags in his palm. God, somehow you're even prettier with snowflakes in your hair and the warm fairy lights twinkling behind you.

He lasers in on the game, winding up that rubber arm like he's back in little league hoping for a strike out. The first few jugs clatter backwards. Suddenly, the kids are much more invested learning the possibility that he might actually win.

It's down to the final jug, and he takes a deep breath. In all honesty, he's never been this successful in any stupid carnival game. Why he is tonight is a mystery. Maybe next he'll be struck by lightning.

Except, the last bean bag thuds against the side of the apparatus, and the crowd groans. He perches his hands on his hips and bows his head.

"You did pretty good, kid. Why don't you pick one of the medium sized prizes?" The vendor asks, gesturing to the small stuffed animals halfway up the wall.

"Which one do you want, sweetheart?"

He turns back and his eyes lock with yours. He's hoping the kids were right. Maybe you'll be impressed or charmed. Or maybe you'll think he's being vain and trying needlessly to boost his ego. But you glance at him in surprise, eagerly stepping forward and tugging on his sleeve.

"Steve, I can't accept your prize. You won it fair and square."

"They begged me to play. I only did it because I love showing off," he teases, and it makes you giggle. Hallelujah. You point to the small polar bear plush, and the vendor hands it to you. Steve's heart flutters when you accept the bear so tenderly and thank him like you're shy. But he's never known you to be bashful. At least, not when it comes to teasing him.

Everyone, including Robin, coos and hoots and hollers at the two of you basking in the soft carnival game light. You whip around and tell them to shush.

"Quit it, I'm not afraid to send you all home right now," Steve says, pointing an accusatory finger. You hide your grin behind your plush when his hair bounces from his intensity.

The kids grumble, and Dustin says, "Yes, mom and dad," begrudgingly but with a shit eating grin on his face. It makes Steve blush more than it should.

You suggest stopping for gingerbread-flavored funnel cake and hot apple cider and face a hoard of suddenly starving children.

Dustin sighs dramatically, catching your attention. "This night is so beautiful, don't you think, Steve?"

"Careful, Henderson, I'm your ride home," Steve says.

"What? I’m just saying it would be a shame to waste such a romantic night." Dustin tries his hardest to wink subtly. "If only it weren't for Brad—"

"No, she dumped Brad," El helpfully suggests. The news lights up their eyes, and they bounce around excitedly.

"Who raised these kids?" Steve huffs, eyebrows raised and cringing at their blatant attempts at match making.

You roll your eyes, announcing, "You guys, Steve has more important things to worry about than a girlfriend."

Steve looks at you. You're trying to settle them down, but all it does is shatter his heart and make him their target. He knows it's in good fun and all but the wobble in your voice makes his knees buckle and his throat tighten. He needs to fix this and fast if he wants any chance at reconciliation.

Max stares him down. "What did you do?"

"Come on, Steve the King," Lucas sighs, "You're supposed to be working with us, not against us!"

Steve shakes his head and turns away from the slander. You follow his lead. You're staring straight ahead, pretending to look at the menu while he fiddles with the hem of his sleeve.

Then, El notices a small mistletoe hanging from the edge of the canopy. The kids giggle and nudge each other, and Robin's eyes go wide realizing the front of the line crosses through its path. And you and Steve are standing side by side.

So just as the line shuffles forward, Robin elbows her way between the two of you, earning a hearty grumble from Steve.

"Sorry, I—uh"—solid gameplan, Robin—"Lovely weather we're having."

You chuckle and look up at the way the snow seems to hover midair. Little specks of white illuminated by the festivities with a backdrop of darkness and starlight.

"Yeah, I guess so," you hum. Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sour look when he spots the mistletoe dangling above the two of you.

"Oh, gosh! Would you look at that," Robin chirps, "Mistletoe! You know what that means."

"You cut the line just so you could kiss me?" you say, smile creeping onto your face. She shrugs, and you hold her jaw while you lean in and peck her cheek. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, but Robin is stirred, her cheeks blooming a rosy pink from more than just the cold.

"Satisfied?"

Robin nods, tugging on her hat and warbling about checking out the ice sculptures and how she'd be back in a second. Steve sheepishly reclaims his spot beside you.

"You want one, too?" you tease. His heart flutters considering it, but his silence has you recoiling and turning away. "Sorry. Just... kidding."

Of course, he wants to kiss you. And he doesn't want it to be an accident or a mistake or a regret. He's already messed up once, and the thought of messing it up with you again hurts like an icicle to the heart.

The kids bound towards the huge tree sprouting from the center of the fair grounds. An announcement had called for the first annual tree lighting at nine, and crowds had flocked to the base of the looming tree. Not Steve, though. He lingers just behind you while you order the funnel cake. He's a little embarrassed when you turn back around holding the plate to find yourselves deserted by your group.

"Where'd everyone go?"

"Distracted by the lights, I guess," he huffs, feeling the pang in his chest when you nod wearily. "Wanna sit down? I saw an open bench back there."

You grab an extra fork and follow him to the bench seated along the edge of the grounds. There's a perfect view of the grand tree with a couple minutes to spare. The bench is snug enough, your thigh pressed to his. It reminds you of that night in your living room and the way he looked at you like he really cared. Like he could have actually wanted you. Honestly, you think, who was he kidding.

But it's second nature the way you hand him a fork.

"Mmm, tastes like..." he hums while trying to decipher the distinct flavor but all he can muster is cinnamon and sugar.

"Gingerbread?" you tease. He ducks his head, grinning and reaching for another bite.

"That would make sense."

You laugh when powdered sugar kisses the tip of his nose. He's confused why you're staring at him like that and rubs his sleeve across his mouth, which makes you laugh harder.

"What?"

You try and wipe it way but miss by a long shot, swiping at his chin through your giggle fit. He finally wipes the tip of his nose. You take a deep breath in, calming your laughter.

"Sweetheart, what is it? What's on my face?"

"You got it." You shake your head. "Just some powdered sugar."

"All that for a little sugar," he teases, grinning from ear to ear when you stifle a laugh. You settle into the bench and he drapes his arm long the back of it. He likes having you so close. It makes him feel foolish and ecstatic and boyish. And he doesn't think he's ever felt so warm before.

You're about to say something when the tree lights up. A million tiny bulbs of green and red and yellow lead to the shining star on top. It illuminates his face, and you can really see the glimmer reflected in his brown eyes. Carolers sing holy night across the festival, but you can still hear them loud and clear. You want to tell Steve he's everything. You would if you could be sure it wouldn't scare him away. People clap and whistle. You're conflicted.

Is this how he felt before he ran away?

"I owe you an apology," he blurts. He turns to face you to find you're already looking him dead in the eyes. His stomach twists because that means it's real and he's not daydreaming. The hope makes him nervous.

You shake your head.

"No, Steve, you have nothing to apologize for. If anything, I should apologize. I still have all the blankets you left, and it's the middle of winter."

"Sweetheart, please, I'm the one who ran out on you," he huffs, "I was being a coward. I've liked you for so long, and I wanted to kiss you, and I know the kids are usually full of shit—and I can't believe I'm saying this—but they're right. I belong to you. I mean it, I'm yours. And as cheesy as it sounds, without you... I feel lost."

The air between you feels thick enough to carve with a butter knife. It's not snowing anymore, but still, something stirs and shimmers and wavers as his confession sets in. It gets a little harder to breathe and he can almost feel the altitude sickness from the flicker in your eye. Though, shortness of breath is nothing compared to the way you make him feel on top of the world with just a glance.

His heart sinks when you tear up and look away.

"Hey," he whispers, leaning in when you desperately press your mittens to your cheeks.

"Sorry. Sorry." You tilt your head back and squint your eyes shut to stop the hot flow of tears.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to make you cry," he says softly when you cover your face and chuckle dryly.

"I know. I just feel like..." you huff, feeling a little silly for crying when Steve rubs your back like he means every word he said. Like he's really sorry and all he wants is you. "It was never the right time for us."

He can't help the way his heart crumbles to pieces like forgotten pastry between your skilled fingers. You're trying not to cry, and it's his fault. You take a deep breath. He thinks he would buy you all the sweet things in the world to make you happy. Even if it meant you didn't need him anymore. It would be enough to know he could do something good for you.

Then you turn to him, and he's doe eyed and handsome and hopeful.

You whisper, "But, now—"

Suddenly, the hoard returns, stampeding and complaining about the cold and how Robin is flirting with the pretty exhibit curator and the tree lighting was so cool but now El wants to take pictures with her new camera and are you gonna eat that? Steve's still hanging onto your every word over the ruckus. Now?

You offer them the rest of the funnel cake which Mike and Dustin devour in seconds. You give Will your scarf when he shivers, and Steve offers his gloves to Lucas who gives one to Max so he can hold her other hand.

"Hey, remember when I told you you'd be cold?" you tease Will who shrugs shyly and Lucas who grumbles, squeezing Max's hand.

"But why would they wear proper clothing when they know you're too caring to refuse?" Max says, cocking a brow. You squint at her.

"Are you calling me a pushover?"

She giggles and kisses your cheek before skipping away with Lucas and shouting, "Only because I love you!"

El hooks her arm in yours and tugs you towards the string light tunnel near the exit. You glance back at Steve who listens to Dustin talk about all the old couples watching the tree lighting ceremony. He makes a point to tell Steve he'd like to come back every year.

Steve looks to you and agrees.

You think El's trying to win the record for most polaroids taken in ten seconds. She takes a few of Max and Lucas and a couple of all of the boys together. She's shouting at them to behave when you wander off towards Steve.

Your knuckles brush his, and you startle, but he's already holding your soft, gloved hand and biting back a grin. You tug him towards you and face him with a fierce look in your eye.

"Quit putting the moves on me, Harrington," you tease, but he sweeps your hair out of your face anyway. Oh, and he looks like he wants to kiss you. Just like before. Only this time, he's not going to run away. And you can tell when he gently cradles your neck that he’s gonna stick around for a long time.

But just as he leans in, a flash goes off and you look straight into El’s lens as the camera clacks and zips. You quickly let go of Steve’s hand and huff out a laugh when one of the kids wolf whistles. Steve chuckles and dips in to kiss your cheek. El skips over and hands you the polaroid, telling you to shake it until it develops.

Once it does, you’re already headed back to the parking lot. You hand it to Steve, and his face lights up.

The light tunnel frames the picture like a halo. Your eyes are wide, staring into the camera while the flash shines on your shocked face. But he’s still looking at you and waiting for his kiss, holding your face with your mitten tucked into his cold hand. You think he looks handsome. He knows that’s because he’s lovesick, and it shows

“I hope you know I’m keeping this,” he says, pinching the corner like it’ll fly away in a snow flurry. You giggle.

“Fine, but I want it on weekends.”

“Deal,” he teases. He plops into his driver’s seat, tucking the polaroid into his sun visor. You lean down and perch your forearms on the window.

“Drive safe, Stevie,” you whisper, glancing at his sweet smile and flushed face.

“I want to kiss you.”

You raise your eyebrows and peek into the back seat where Will, El, and Max giggle. And then to where Dustin is slumped in the passenger’s seat, his forehead rested against the glass.

“Dustin is gonna be furious when he finds out you said that, and he wasn’t awake to witness it,” you hum, but Steve couldn’t care less with you so close to him.

“Maybe it’ll teach him to mind his own damn business.” Steve says it so casually, it makes you smile.

“His meddling isn’t all bad,” you shrug, “It brought us together.”

Well, shit, Steve thinks. He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the kid.

“In that case, I owe him one,” he says, out of focus when you lean further into the car. “Or a couple.”

You smile against his mouth and he hums lowly. It’s gentle. Unhurried. Like it could stop the world from turning if only for a second. If the festival were any quieter, your heartbeats would be audible. You pull away with a small grin and smooth down the collar of his jacket. He holds your wrist, fingers lazily wrapping around the cuff of your mitten to keep your hand close to his chest.

Max pokes Dustin’s shoulder and he wakes with a loud startle. He orients himself to find the both of you staring back at him.

“What was that for? What did I miss?” he whines with a furrowed brow. Max rolls her eyes, tugging her headphones on.

“Dude,” she huffs. El giggles, shaking her head, and Will waves when you stand back from the window.

You pat Steve’s shoulder and say, “Seriously, please be careful. It’s slippery.”

Steve nods, giving you a little salute. You smile. He blushes.

“You, too, honey,” he coos, hoping you’ll linger by his window just a little longer. But Dustin snaps his fingers impatiently.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he says, already nodding off again. You chuckle.

“I’ll follow you out,” you say with a nod, “Nighty night, Dusty.”

Dustin swats away the tease with a, “Yeah, yeah. Talk to me when you’re boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Steve cocks a brow and you laugh, shrugging. His engine revs to life and you back away further with a cute little wave when his headlights flicker on. He watches you open your car door and disappear inside before slowly creeping out of the parking spot. You shuck your mittens and set them in the cupholder, Robin grinning from beside you the entire time.

“We saw everything,” she says. Mike and Lucas share a knowing glance in the backseat, and you hold up one finger.

“Not a word.”

But you smile the whole way home.

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14. “That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

jack has been pinning after quinn’s grumpy best friend and she won’t admit how fond she is off him and they finally kiss and she tries to play it off but jacks knows :)

Prompt: “That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

Note: I’m literally was brainstorming ideas for these prompt requests while driving to work today and literally making voice notes of my ideas 😂 this one ended up a little on the longer side i feel, but hopefully it’s still good :)

“Well I know who you’re most excited to see.”

Glancing at your friend you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

“More like who I’m going to avoid at all costs.”

Your friend just shaking her head, she along with everyone in your friend group knew how you secretly felt about Jack. But you’d never admit it. Not even to Quinn, his own brother and your best friend for years.

You and Quinn met first, then he slowly introduced you to his brothers, knowing they could be a lot to handle when all together. Luke you didn’t mind, but something about Jack just got under your skin. His confident cocky attitude, the way he was literally good at everything he did, his adorable smile and the way his laugh lit up a room. No, y/n, shut up. Nothing about Jack Hughes was anything to blush over.

“Gonna be kind of hard when we all are stuck on a boat together. And when Jack looks like that.” Your friend pulling down her sunglasses to get a look at Jack, in just his swim trunks as he helped Quinn load up the boat.

Since Jack’s shoulder surgery you’d heard that he’d been hitting the gym pretty hard. And it was sure paying off, sure you admit that he looked good. But you didn’t dare tell him, not needing to boost his ego any further.

“Oh lord…just another thing for him to brag about.”

Rolling your eyes you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the adventure this day would be. Trying your best to not be a total jerk all day and have some fun.

Quinn waved at the two of you as you approached the boat, Luke taking your bags and setting them on the deck.

“Okay, so Jack and I got pretty much everything ready to go. The only thing left to pack is the cooler, y/n do you mind going to pack that? You’re the go to bartender around here.”

Flashing a smile to Quinn you accepted the task and headed into the garage of the lake house. Eyeing up all the alcohol in the fridge and trying to decide what to bring.

After getting an initial idea, you scanned the room for the cooler, only to find it on the top shelf completely out of reach.

“How the fuck do the Hughes boys reach that? No way one of them got that thing up there.”

Rolling your eyes you tried to find anything that could help you reach, opting to try and stand on a few cases of beer. Only to still be a few inches short.

“Can I help?”

The playful tone of Jack’s voice echoing through the garage and making you cringe. Of course he shows up, loving the fact that you needed him when he knew the feeling was killing you inside.

“Nope, I can do it myself.” Trying to stand on your tippy toes, you swiped for the cooler, only to miss and stumble off the piled of beer boxes. Bracing yourself to fall face first, you shut your eyes tight, only to be caught by the arms of Jack.

His arms that were now much bigger than you’d remembered, his skin sun kissed from being out on the boat all morning, your heart racing from the fall, but also the closeness of the two of you.

“Are you okay?”

He slightly chuckled as he helped you back to your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as he smiled down at you. Sensing how nervous you’d become. Your heart racing as you looked back up at him, not noticing his face moving closer to yours.

Before you could react, he’d placed a kiss on your lips, nothing crazy, testing the waters more so to gauge your reaction. And when you didn’t pull away, Jack knew he’d gotten through your cold act you kept up with him.

“I’ll take that as a yes, and dare I say, I think I make you nervous y/n.”

Scoffing you quickly threw drinks into the cooler, flustered as you just wanted to get onto the boat as quickly as possible.

“That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it Jack Hughes.”

Reaching for the cooler, your arm practically popping out of place at the weight of all the drinks. Jack laughing as he came over to help.

“If I help with the cooler do I get a kiss for that too?”

“You wish Hughes.”

Rolling your eyes you took your hand from the cooler, leaving him to carry it all by himself.

“Hey! What gives?”

“Well you’re loving showing off your new muscles, so I thought you could put them to work.”

[nina-ya]

A/N: I was at a concert and couldn't stop thinking about law as the bassist so I quite literally wrote these headcanons during the concert dfkjsjk so here have them I'm going to my cave and hiding now! Pairing: Bassist!Law x reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI

Bassist!Law who always glances at you standing backstage, watching as he plays, knowing just what he has in store for you later. Eye contact lingering longer than necessary, a smirk on his lips as he imagines the things he’ll do to you once the show is over. He thrives on the way that your mere presence amps up his performance.

Bassist!Law who notices the way your eyes seem to flicker between his biceps and his hands constantly watching them move and flex as he plays, watching as the crowd erupts in cheers when he purposefully uses two of his fingers to grind circles into the neck of the bass guitar just to tease you further, bringing you closer and closer to pouncing right then and there. 

Bassist!Law who is the first to make it off stage as soon as the final note is played, making a beeline to you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips crash against yours, consuming your entire being with the pent-up emotions building up throughout the performance. 

Bassist!Law who enjoys the feeling of your ineffectual fists pushing his sweaty body away, whining about how wet he is. Your resistance only adds fuel to the burning desire, and the struggle between you is a prelude to the unabashed passion that will soon engulf the two of you. 

Bassist!Law who whisks you away, dragging you back to the tour bus before the rest of the bandmates can follow. Urgency manifested in his drive to claim you in the privacy of the dimly lit bus.

Bassist!Law who has you pinned against the bunk beds of the cramped tour bus, his body caging you in radiating with a ravenous hunger. His breath is a scorching whisper against your ear, weaving dirty promises, each a venomous caress that lays bare his intentions with a clarity that makes your knees quiver and your resolve melt like wax in a flame. 

Bassist!Law who grins at the marks he leaves on your skin, each bruise and bite a proclamation that you are his. 

Bassist!Law whose calloused fingers drag deep inside of you, each flick of his wrist leaving you gasping for breath. His touch is a paradox that emits tenderness and relentlessness, leaving you crying out in sheer wanton abandon. 

Bassist!Law who tears your clothes off, his hands mapping your body as if you were a prized possession. Each inch of you committed to memory, his fingers tracing a trail of fire along your curves and dips. 

Bassist!Law who maneuvers you into the narrow bunk bed, the limited space only heightening the intensity. He flips you over in the tight quarters, positioning you on your hands and knees, his hands gripping your hips with ferocity. 

Bassist!Law who teases you mercilessly, running the tip of his cock along your slick folds, each nudge of his bulbous tip pulling begs from your lips, the pleas bouncing off the walls of the tiny space. 

Bassist!Law who finally pushes into you, burying himself to the hilt. The sensation of him stretching you, the way he bucks into you, bullying your insides with each thrust, has you seeing stars, each and every nerve alight with pleasure, leaving your jaw agape whining panting, and whining with each kiss of your cervix. 

Bassist!Law who loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies, the tour bus seemingly swaying alongside your movements. His grunts meld with your cries of pleasure, the air thick with the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex, a melody much sweeter than the ones he plays on stage every night. 

Bassist!Law who is addicted to the way your hole clenches around him, your body responding to each rock of his hips, every angle change. He adjusts his pace and depth until your senses are flooded with nothing else but him, the only word you know how to say is his name, chanting it as if it were a prayer. 

Bassist!Law who drinks up the sight of you coming undone beneath him, the sight of your gasping, shuddering form driving him over his peak, burying himself deep inside of you, face in your neck, groaning your name as he pains your walls a creamy white. 

Bassist!Law who only waits a moment before pulling out of you, using your own shirt to clean you up as he tosses his own shirt at you right as his other bandmates laughter and chatter approach the bus. He loves the sight of you wearing the graphic tee he wore on stage only moments ago, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame. 

Bassist!Law whose bandmates walk in and immediately catch the sight of the aftermath- the touseled sheets, your embarrassed face accompanying the marks that litter your neck, you wearing Law’s shirt, now leaving his tattoos exposed to the elements. The knowing smirks, and stifled laughter from his friends only fuel his pride. He wraps an arm around you, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he revels in the evidence of your shared passion, completely and utterly unashamed. 

[hitlikehammers]

Early November, 1984 and all Eddie wanted was to light up behind the Byers' place in peace🚬

he went all that way and all he got for it was a maybe-dead💀-but-definitely-unconscious-king👑-slash-maybe-babysitter(?), plus some shithead children directing his van🚐 to those fucking abandoned labs that may as well be lit up in neon lights screaming 🚨THIS IS A FUCKING TRAP🚨

Eddie shouldn’t be here. Like, not in a it’s forbidden kinda way, but more in a, there’s no real reason for him to fucking be here.

Save for the obvious.

It’s just…after the whole dead-not-dead thing with the youngest kiddo, the property around the Byers house has kinda turned into no-man’s-land; easy place to get high when Eddie wants a change of scenery, basically, with no one trying to break his nose, or call the pigs.

Or snatch his supply.

But when he hears that fuckface Hargrove call out, the tone on him—and Eddie’s real sensitive to tones, he can guess between the lines for everything he can’t read—he perks up; listens in. Stays put out of sight.

(And no, he does not cream his pants when Harrington calls back, Jesus; taunts like the cocky prick that he is—

And no it is not a close thing or…whatever.)

Point being: he hears more than sees what happens. Up to and including a gaggle of literal fucking children dragging Harrington toward wha Eddie thinks is Hargrove’s eyesore of a car, one of the sheepies crossing around like they’re planning on driving it, and Eddie’s not one for the rule of law or anything—definitely not if it’s Hargrove’s property that’s on the line—and fuck yes Eddie’s driven without a license, and far below the age to get one, but, but—

He’s tripping over himself to turn the keys in his own ignition and swinging the van around quick enough to kick up dirt before he leans over and throws open the passenger door.

“Hey,” he hisses, low but not quiet, he needs them to hear but he doesn’t know if Hargrove’s gonna storm out any second, it’s a delicate balance; “hey, get in,” and he’s crawling over the seat to open the back, too, to push things to the side to mostly leave it flat, tossing blankets to the middle with no care for their cleanliness because there’s no time for that shit, there’s no time and then he’s grabbing the hinges of the doors and flinging his whole top half around to eye this hoard of strange ankle-biters and what’s revealed quickly to be their still-weirdly-attractive-when-beat-to-shit charge in Steve Motherfucking Harrington, trying to project some degree of meaningful trustworthiness, because he is trustworthy, here and now, but they’re kinda in the fucking clock of crazy-eyes-Mc-West-Coast stumbling out of the house, so Eddie’s kinda gotta urge these rugrats with real feeling, waving his hands to the point where his fucking wrists hurt:

“Get in.”

And of course these little urchins still and just, raise a fucking eyebrow at him. Like they’re not working on an inexact sort of fucking timeline—

“Who the fuck are you?”

Yeesh. He wasn’t off when he said they were ankle biters; the little lambies have teeth.

“I just wanna help,” Eddie tries to say it with as much of the genuine concern that he really and truly feels, and not get weighed down with the probably-suspicious-off-the-bat vibe of pulling up in a random van just to start the exchange out with waving some strange kids into the back of it.

Jesus, that sounds terrible, wow, okay.

He gets it.

“No,” oddly, not the ringleader girl who eyed him first but it’s the curly headed boy now who stands up, squares his shoulders, and stares Eddie down with an only-slightly-less-menacing glare. “No, you’re not gonna hurt Steve.”

“I don’t want to hurt him, I swear,” Eddie’s honestly surprised by how unmuddled his tone bleeds put as desperate, versus irritated by this motley crew of munchkins trying to fight him when he is risking his own neck to help them.

And…King Steve, but then: can he be that motionless, hanging awkward from the noodles limbs of a handful of preteens (at most)?

“I just want to get you out of here, somewhere safe,” Eddie bites his lip, wonders where the fuck he intends to go and realizes he was probably just going to drive toward his home and hope for the best; “Er, somewhere safer than here,” and they don’t fucking budge, little assholes, and Harrington doesn’t fucking twitch, and just, just…

Ugh.

“Come on,” he urges them again, just shy of begging; lets how fucking nervous he’s getting seep clear into his tone a little, but he honestly doesn’t think he’d have convinced them to move if not for the crashing of something in the house behind them, and—well.

Nothing like impending doom to speed shit along.

“I wanted to drive,” the redhead’s muttering with a scowl as they heft the body they’re barely keeping off the ground and awkwardly feed Harrington head-first up to Eddie where where he’s crawled properly into the back of the van to help, and Eddie thinks these little fuckers just might be more wild and feral and insane even than he originally would have guessed for how they make to scramble behind their Steve; only just manages to steady and lower the royal body as careful as he can before the hoard clamors in and denies Eddie so much as a moment to press his finger under Steve Harrington’s flop of bloody hair and touch below his jawline where those stupidly infuriating moles of his speckle his skin, marks that Eddie’s hasn’t ever really paid attention to ever, nope, Eddie only needs now to assess whether he’s just accepted a dead fucking body into his van but: no.

Maybe a little sluggish, but pulse’s strong. Which: Eddie doesn’t care about past the legality of it all. Beyond getting saddled with a murder charge or some other bullshit.

No other reason. Of course. Yeah.

The only thing that floors him more than the Hardy Boys-plus-Girl on steroids tearing onto the cushions around where their unconscious charge is laid out, as Eddie shifts into gear and makes to get the fuck out of dodge, like, yesterday, is the even-louder voice in his head that asks probably the most pressing question:

The fuck did the King do, and how, and why, to make these children this loyal?

What follows all that is quite arguably—actually more than that; definitely a strong contender for—the most surprising thing that’s ever happened to Eddie. That could maybe ever possibly happen to Eddie, in any circumstance for any reason within any universal construct or reality. And he’d been really marinating in his Munson Doctrine this year, too, having been forced to reevaluate some shit after the letter arrived to hammer the most disappointing nail in the coffin of Eddie’s first senior year, but then…fuck everything, then there were the stupid little sheepies and their stupid gorgeous goddamn babysitter—which still, still: what the fuck was that, who the fuck even was Steve Harrington?—and Eddie’d barely even put the ink down to dry before all of them banded secretly together and shredded that motherfucking document before it could even properly take root in Eddie’s brain.

All while something else entirely started to take root in his chest, in his hea—

Well. Something. Something that wasn’t even remotely recognizable inside his most recent—and most polished to date, if he does say so himself—draft of the Doctrine like, at all.

Which is the point.

Because Harrington was indeed alive, and did indeed wake up, and clocked Eddie quicker than expected, even by name—Munson? What the fuck?and hell if that hadn’t fluttered between Eddie’s ribs an indefensible amount that no one would ever know about ever, thank you very much, but still: Jesus H. Christ—

But all his own humiliating discombobulation at the not-even-hands-just-voice-and-presence-of-the-golden-boy aside: it’s a damn good fucking thing Harrington wakes up, and is definitely not dead, because Eddie knows where the King lives, and he knows he’s not driving in that direction but had instead been foolish enough to give these shitweasel munchkins the benefit of the doubt here, like that there maybe was a safe house or some shit, fucking sue him, he was a little prepccupied, yeah—by the threat of a chase with that Hargrove fucker and then by the absolutely spectacle of Harrington screeching at the wayward waifs like a harried mother at the stovetop, because fuck, but Eddie nearly crashes them into three ditches and at least five trees for for trying to watch and he can’t even pretend otherwise—but the end result is definitely not a fucking safe house, and these little asshats have directed him in the wholeass wrong direction, if the undeniable fact of the old abandoned labs at the edge of town looming big through his windshield, looking at least slightly less abandoned (as if that’s not goddamn terrifying in and of itself), what the fuck has he literally driven into, is he an accomplice, and to what, and just, just Jesus—

“Hey.”

Eddie is honestly wholly jolted out of his spiral for a lot of reasons, here. The low tenor exhale of a sound in a voice too kind and open and invested, to much like music given what it does to Eddie, what music means to Eddie and what this voice shouldn’t fucking mean too straight out the goddamn gate. The proximity of a body close enough to feel the warmth of each breath. The indefensible feeling of it being nearly erotic out of nowhere and with no justification at all—just the reality of Eddie’s world right now, to feel the barest brush of the side of a body alongside his, leaning forward where he’s still in the driver’s seat. All of that would tip his world at the very least into a different sort of spiral pattern, breathless in a completely other way.

But.

What knocks Eddie hardest and most effectively in one go is the hand on his shoulder, braced to comfort and steady, and the realization in the flesh of how fucking big it is, how the span of that palm, those fingers, because Eddie knew those hands looked big, not that he’d studied them with any real…attention or anything but feeling them was something entirely other, and the touch, the touch is…is—

“Hey,” and Harrington’s breath is close enough then to tickle Eddie’s hair, goddamn: “breathe.”

And where Eddie hadn’t been wholly aware that he wasn’t, y’know, doing the breathing thing so well, either for the absolute insanity of the evening or the ominous spread, all proper D&D-style foreshadowing of nope don’t go there not now not ever waiting where these menaces had directed him to drive; but whatever the reason, where Eddie now takes a gulp of air in now that fucking burns, there’s Harrington, leaning over a little more, a second hand on Eddie chest to steady him as he falls all while he’s fucking squeezing Eddie’s shoulder, only a second before he’s getting ready to jump out of the van like he wasn’t just beaten unconscious like, five fucking minutes ago.

What the actual flying fuck.

If Eddie weren’t a goddamn idiot, he’d put the van in reserve before anyone could get out the back, fuck the way they’ll be thrown against the sides, at least they won’t be walking—willingly—into whatever the fuck’s waiting, all angry red and kinda…pulsating in the distance in a way that may or may not be a trick of his own paranoid mind, and then spewing little glowing motes into the air like lightning bugs.

Which could be charming, if it weren’t way fucking past the season for that shit.

And in fairness, the whole experience of Steve Harrington touching him and leaning close and breathing near him and telling him to breathe? That shit does carry him through—mostly—the hours that will follow, cliche and genuinely fucking embarrassing as it is, as it will be, to acknowledge at all.

But in the now—

“Thanks, man.”

And…oh, well, fuck.

As in point number one: that hand—bothhands—really are distracting as all hell but then also, simultaneously, very much point number two:

What the actual fuck.

“What?”

Apparently sending Eddie-usually-eloquent-enough-to-spin-some-pretty-bullshit-on-demand-Munson reeling outta nowhere is this fucker’s MO. Probably for the best that Eddie’s been writing him off as a pretty airhead for years now—if for nothing more than his own sanity.

Or else, like…relatively speaking.

“You got us here,” Harrington gestures out the window and…yeah.

“Here?”

That’s the relative part. And the insane part to be thanked for. Because where they’ve ended up is definitely the DoE labs that were supposed to have shut down or whatever, after people disappeared and came back and disappeared again and also didn’t and were never gone and fake bodies and whatever.

No one thanks anyone for bringing them to a place like this.

“And it’s more than I could have asked someone to do,” Harrington’s going on like it’s a casual thing, a favor like walking his goddamn dog and not more like what’s actually staring them down inside the fencing, namely the building that doesn’t look as abandoned as advertised by half, and definitely doesn’t at all look like the only thing it’s missing is a big neon sign blinking TRAP! FREE TRAP! IN THE MARKET FOR A QUICK PAINFUL DEMISE AT THE HANDS OF THE WORLD’S SHITTIEST TAINT FACTORY EAST OF ARMPIT-IAPOLIS? STEP RIGHT UP! ALSO REMINDER: CLEARLY A TRAP!

“Harrington,” Eddie doesn’t love the way his voice trips over a bonafide gulp. “Steve.”

He also doesn’t love how much feeling sneaks into that part because one, where the fuck’d that even come from and two, he…

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever said this guy’s first name out loud. As in…ever.

He doesn’t love how nice it feels, how scary but bubbly-warm it tingles at the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach.

So there’s all of that.

Still set inescapably under the threat of the non-existent-but-no-less-real-neon-sign-of-death and…stuff.

“We know what we’re doing,” Steve’s pats Eddie’s shoulder again, moves the hand from his chest like he’s pulling away, like he’s leaving to go toward the trap and Eddie whips his head around just in time to catch Steve shrug sheepishly and add:

“Like, mostly.”

It is not at all lost on Eddie, how Steve doesn’t even try to sidestep that he’s walking into the gaping maw of probably death, here.

That might be the most terrifying part of this yet.

“I could,” Eddie’s voice is a crackle, so he tries clearing his throat, licking his lips; “I could at least try to help.”

That comes out a little stronger, but not steadier, and he doesn’t really think he’s making his point very well at all.

But then there’s Steve, and his hand back full on Eddie’s shoulder, saying:

“You could,” like he believes that; “and we’d be grateful,” added in like he means that too.

And most unbelievable of all of it, what he tacks on last with a squeeze of his hand and a lower pitch for no reason Eddie can figure save to catch inside the clench of his pulse so it takes to jittering like fucking mad as the King himself exhales:

“I’d be grateful.”

And what the fuck does that mean, said with eyes so bright when the night’s so dark?

And what the fuck does it mean when Eddie’s heartbeat starts jittering, a butterfly between cupped hands, until:

“I need you to be safe though,” and the words have physical form, brush Eddie’s frizzled curls straight behind his ear like…tenderness, delicate.

What. The. Fuck.

Eddie blames the way his heart goes form butterfly to battering ram, ready to crack through his ribs for no reason save a feeling he can’t justify, but’s too real to pretend away as less when he half-fucking-moans:

“What about you?”

Because Steve’s shepherding the kiddos. He’s keeping Eddie on the sidelines, safe. He’s charging into battle with a handkerchief and a bat and a goddamn pair of rubber gloves found from somewhere, sticking out his back pocket like he’s flagging in day-glo, holy hell—

But who takes care of Steve?

“I’ll see you at school,” Steve winks, leans this time to bump one shoulder straight to Eddie’s and then he’s jumping out the back of the van, and he’s moving too fast and—

“Harrington,” Eddie calls, suddenly forgetting he’d ever been trying to keep quiet, to avoid attention of whatever they’re going out to face, Hargrove or harbingers of worker fates, or both at once; “fuck, fuck,” he hissed as he trips over shit that got shifted back in his way as he stumbles to the doors and yells:

“Steve!”

And it’s like maybe saying his name does something to Steve himself, too, because he pauses, and even for the distance, the little curve of his lips isn’t a smirk, it’s a smile.

It’s fucking beautiful.

And then he’s saluting cockily before he turns on his heel with just one last parting shot;

“See you on the other side, Munson.”

And the tunnels beyond only let him watch so long, see so far. The weird shit in the air, and the bandanas he can see a scuffle over, to make sure they’re tied over noses and mouths, lit by weird pulsing colors, obscene squelching noises he can hear the echoes of even this far back and just, just…

Typical eldritch fuckery from a monster manual.

That doesn’t belong in real life.

It’s a fucking trap, Admiral. Good fucking god.

And Jesus H. Christ, but Eddie hadn’t even had the chance to light up tonight as he’d planned, as he’d explicitly driven out to do.

For fuck’s sake.

>>>part two 💚

For @miraculousmultifan, who requested Post-S2; 'Now, I’m not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realise that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST—very late, obviously, and MID-S2, rather than post but it ENDS UP being post-S2, promise 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here @pukner @ravenfrog @sadisticaltarts @samsoble @sanctumdemunson @shrimply-a-menace @slashify @stealthysteveharrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @theheadlessphilosopher @theintrovertedintrovert @themoonagainstmers @theohohmoment @tillystealeaves @tinyloonyteacups @tinyplanet95 @warlordess @wheneverfeasible @wordynerdygurl @wxrmland @yesdangerpls @yourmom-isgay @1-tehe-1

divider credit here

[chellestrash]

A long road ahead

Shane Walsh x Female!Reader

summary: bored in the car with your boyfriend you decide to make the drive a bit more fun for both of you. warnings: pet names, explicit language, explicit content, teasing, exhibitionism, masturbation, oral sex, unprotected sex, car sex, pure smut, not much plot to it word count: 2.2k a/n: i literally got the idea and then sat down and wrote it in like the same day? Had to get it out of the system before I work on some bigger projects, hope you'll enjoy it!

You watch the not so well, lit road from the passenger's seat of your car while Shane drives you both to a little party at one of your old friend's place, a couple of cities over. It's not a short drive, but you figured it won't be too bad on a Friday evening, and you quickly realize your assumption was correct. It's not bad, but it is boring, the road is long, and you start to get bored...quickly.

You turn to your boyfriend, watching as he skips through the radio station for a bit before setting on something that seemed semi familiar to both of you. He clears his throat, tilting his head to the side, as he goes back to watching the road in front of him. Your eyes linger on his arms for a bit, the fabric of his t-shirt tight around his bicep as he grips the steering wheel after changing the gear. You trace your eyes down his body, from his rough side profile, over that pretty neck, down to his broad shoulders, his chest and the down and down and lower until you stop right between his legs. 

Your mind wanders, pretty quickly finding its way back to yours and Shane's favorite ways of passing the time together, and you suck your lower lip in between your teeth.

Watching him for another moment, with your mind occupied by the memories of his body, your hand slowly finds it way under your dress and make up your mind the second your boyfriend's voice brings you back to him.

“You okay?”

He asks, eyebrows pulled together as he turns from the road to you and back to the road again. 

“Yeah.”

You answer quickly, and he glances over at you again, scrunching his nose up slightly as he does his best to figure out if you mean it or not.

“You sure?”

“I'm fine, Shane, watch the road.”

You instruct him, and he does as he's told. After turning to face the window on your side of the car, you prop your head in your palm and watch the dark buildings pass by behind the glass. It doesn't take more than a couple of minutes for your brain to wander back into the place Shane managed to, oh so effortlessly, pull you out off. 

Rubbing your thumb over your thigh, you slowly move your palm higher and higher up your leg before pushing it under the fabric of your dress. 

“What are-”

Shane starts, catching your hand move out the corner of his eye, but chokes on his own words once he turns his head to look at you, his eyes immediately falling between your legs. His jaw drops, eyes widen when he registers the subtle movements of your hand under the fabric, and you take this opportunity to make the ride a bit more interesting for both of you. Lifting your ass up from the seat, you quickly pull your black panties down, opening your legs slightly to allow them to fall onto the floor of the car. 

“Shit-”

He curses, dropping his hand to the now, growing bulge in his jeans, doing his best to keep the car in the right lane without looking at the road too much.

“Wait- wait wait wait - fuck what-”

He tries, but you speak over him.

“I'm sooooo fucking bored, Walsh.”

You tease him with a whine, pulling the dress up just enough for him to catch the glimpse of your pussy before finally touching yourself properly.

Humming, satisfied with the sensation, you rub your fingers over your center for a moment before spreading your legs open some more to focus on the clit. 

“Shane! The road!”

You point out after a moment, realizing he probably didn't look away from you since the panties brushed over your ankles. He doesn't listen, reaching his hand over to your side, trying to touch you.

“Don't-”

You push his hand away, and nod towards the road in front of the car.

“Walsh! You want me to call the cops on you? Watch the damn road!"

You warn, hand never slipping away from your center as you address him directly.

“God- fuck-, god damn it!”

He huffs, slamming his hand into the steering wheel, frustrated as he focuses back on not causing a major car wreck before reaching over and pushing your hand away from your pussy. 

“Don't fucking do that then.”

He warns you, and you give him a shocked smirk.

"Or?"

You push your hips forward, the hand immediately back between your legs.

"Hey! What'd I just say, what-"

Shane glances between you and the road, trying to focus on both things at once, but you won't let him win.

"What'd i say?!"

He warns, harsh, loud voice fills the car but, you know him, it doesn't work on you.

Propping your knee on the ledge by the window, you spread your legs open even more, making sure to turn in his direction slightly, wanting him to get the best view possible. 

“Oh, I don't know...didn't hear you."

You point out as you continue to rub your fingers over your clit, feeling the warmth between your legs growing more and more the more you touched yourself, but most likely the more he watched you do it. It wasn't the first time you did shit of this sort in the car, but it was the first time you decided to not let touch you, at least not yet. You wanted to tease and get to him, and that's exactly what you wear doing. Judging by the now, completely hard cock staining against the fabric of his jeans, you deserved some praise. 

You moan theatrically, earning yourself another “made you look" point before, he glares into the mirror and onto the side of the road.

“I'm pulling over-.”

“Don't!” 

You protest.

"Yeah, you think I'm gonna listen to you now?"

He mumbles, eyebrow raised as he glares at you and into the mirror again.

"Think I'm gonna-"

“You pull over, I'll stop. You got that?”

He turns to you quickly one more time, and you know if looks could kill, Shane Walsh would be a murdered right now. 

“You're on- real thin ice right now, you know that-”

He warns you, but you manage to cut him off yet again, the wet sounds of your fingers slipping inside you cuts off any sort of communication between his brain and his lips.

You watch the way his knuckles turn white against the steering wheel as you continue to do to yourself, what he wishes he was doing right now, when the car suddenly stops.

The intersection feels like a gift from God when the red light forces him to stop the truck.

Fighting with the buckle of his belt with one hand, he undoes the seatbelt and leans over to your side of the car before ducking down, between your legs. You slip your fingers out and lift your hips up slightly to make it easier while he grunts into you. Your mouth falls open and eyes shut tight when you feel his tongue press hard against your sensitive clit. 

“Oh shit- oh shit.”

You push his head harder against you, the short, buzzed hair prickling your palm while he hums loudly, licking up your slick. Digging your nails into his back, you attempt to pull him even closer, feeling the climax building up deep under your bellybutton. You don’t even dare to think about it too much, but to be completely honest, you’re pretty sure, despite the late hour, if someone looked at the car even for a moment, they’d figure out what was going on. 

“Shane-”

You half gasp, half moan when the green hue of the streetlight snaps you out of the pleasant moment.

“Fuck- Shane!”

Taping the side of his head with your hand, you attempt to get his attention, but he only lifts his head up once the car behind you hooks impatient.

“Fuuu-”

He pushes his head up, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand quickly before doing his best to frantically get the car in gear before stepping on the gas. Your slick shines on his lips in the lights of the streetlamps while he speeds down the main road, pushing his hand into his boxers at the same time. You watch the fabric move as he strokes his cock again and again and again, biting into your lower lip at the site

“Pull over.”

You finally get the words out, feeling way too close to stop now, but not wanting to come without him. 

“I'm fuckin- tryin-”

He almost shouts now, glancing around the car's surroundings.

“Shane…”

You warn, and he catches your hips buck up, pussy clenching around nothing, the last straw.

“Fuck- don't, wait, god fucking-”

The car jerks to the side as he cuts through the two lanes and comes to a sudden stop on a small dirt road off the side of the main one. It's, in no way, secluded, not any more than the main road, but neither of you care enough for that fact to stop you. Not at this point.

You pull your hand away from yourself and Shane yanks his jeans and boxers down, his cocks springing out, hard for you already, before he pushes his seat back enough to make room for you.

“Fuck, fuck f- c'mere darlin' c'mon-“

He grabs onto your arm desperately, helping you throw your leg over the middle of the car, and you wait exactly half a second for him to line his cock up with your entrance before taking him in at the same time as he bucks up into you.

“Oh shit- oh shit, god-fuck!”

He curses under his breath as you feel yourself stretching to accommodate to his size. His hands drop to your hips, under the dress, fingers digging into your ass when you begin to ride him, both of you working on the deep thrusts. You throw your arms over his neck, head falling back slightly, your nails on his back again as you feel his cock drag out of you before pushing in, nudging right under your stomach on the inside. 

His lips find yours as the trusts speeds up and so does your breathing. You taste yourself on him and hum into the kiss before he pulls away, pushing his face into your neck with a loud grunt as he feels himself almost falling over the edge now.

“Fuck-fuck- oh shit- “

As his hips speed up even more, he pushes his hand between your bodies, and you feel his fingers on your clit.

A loud moan lets him know they're in the right place, and he scoffs loudly, smiling wide as he watches you fall apart on top of him.

Your climax hits, harder than you've anticipated, definitely harder than what you've expected when you slipped your hand under your dress a couple miles ago, and he lets you ride the high out on his cock before finally letting himself come as well. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck-”

You grip onto his torso as he fucks through your body's post orgasm clenches, listening to the wet sounds filling the car. He grunts, loud, really loud, and you know he's there.

“Ohhhh there he iiiiis. Good boy Walsh!”

You tease immediately after, not really giving him even a second to catch his breath. Resting his forehead against yours, he pants loudly, swallowing hard as he does his best to speak up now.

“Fuck you.”

He mumbles, and you laugh out loud, pressing your lips into his before dragging your hand down his face to clean him up a little bit. 

“Again? You wish”

He scoffs loudly this time, rolling his eyes at your words, before wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you even closer to him.

“Think anyone saw us?”

He asks after you sit in silence for a moment, your body rising and falling with his chest, your fingers scratching the back of his neck gently, his hands on your lower back under the fabric of the dress, thumbs brushing softly over your skin.

You shrug, not really sure if it honestly matters much to you.

“The car behind us at the stop light?”

He laughs loudly, looking off to the side, out the window and back at you.

“Yeah, shit. S'what i though too.”

You breathe out a laugh and shrug your shoulders. 

“Well, if they did, then…lucky them, I guess.”

Shane nods, approving of your answer with a quiet chuckle, and you smile at the sound.

“Lucky them.”

He repeats before sighing loudly.

“Christ…don't know how we didn't fucking crash.”

He mumbles, holding your hand as you stand up and pull off of his cock before falling back onto your seat before he slowly and gently tucks his cock back into him boxers then pulls his jeans up.

“Should we try the party still?”

He asks, watching you lean down to pick something up from the floor.

“Eeeh I don't know.”

You state, not even turning to face him before hanging your lacy black panties over the mirror before turning to face him again.

“Your choice Walsh. We still have a bit to go."

[reidmania]

hello!! ok so, i was wondering if i could request a fic that is based around autumn/ october/ halloween because spencer loves spooky season and i fuck with that, anyway, so could you tie that detail into smth kinda like your “everywhere everything” fic fluff wise because i went feral for that one lmao. feel free to ignore if youre not up to it, but i’d love to read what youve got if you do write this. 💙

EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING | spencer reid

part one, part two

summary; spending the week before halloween & going to the pumpkin patch with Spencer in your home town.

warnings; pure love sick fluff, talks about home towns, established relationships, fem reader, halloween, mentions of driving, rushed ending sorry!!

an; i decided to make this request a part two to the everywhere everything fic bc the next verse just fits so well i think?? but it can be read without reading the first part. and that whole song feels like love in autumn!!

im also australian and we dont celebrate halloween like americans do, ive never been to a pumpkin patch so please bare w me during this.

'Drive slowly, I know every route in this county, maybe that ain't such a bad thing I'll tell you where not to speed. It's been a long year and all of our book's pages dog-eared We write out the ends on our palms, dear. Then forget to read, we didn't know that the sun was collapsing 'Til the seas rose and the buildings came crashing. We cried, "Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh, oh" Everywhere, everything, I wanna love you 'til we're food for the worms to eat 'Til our fingers decompose Keep my hand in yours'

"Slow down" You huffed out as Spencer turned down a road you knew all to well, it was familiar and came with a sense of home in place. It was the same road you remembered your father being pulled over everytime for speeding, the same road you had been pulled over on when you had first gotten your licence.

Spencer did as you told him, after sitting in the car with you for an hour mumbling about where was and wasn't safe to go a little faster than the speed limit, he knew to listen. This was your home, you knew it better than he would.

He even refrained from correcting some of your 'fun facts' abot your home town. Purely because listening to your excitement while talking about it made his heart too happy to say anything.

"You know we have gone past about three different pumpkin patches on the way" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow softly as his head turned from the road to look at you for a moment before turning back to the road.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile taking place over your lips. “Yes, but, this one’s the best. We are literally two minutes away. Please don’t complain.” You muttered with a smile.

The air between the two of you was warm. It lingered with peace and quiet love, the sort that didn’t need to be shouted from a roof top because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s hands reached to grab yours, the way his eyes danced between you and the road, the way the music playing was what you enjoyed rather than the normal radio he would let play in the background.

It didn’t need to be shouted because it was whispered through the way Spencer’s face lit up when he parked the car and looked out the window, the way he turned back to you with just about the widest grin you think ever possible, the way he leant in to place a gentle kiss against your forehead before he got out, walking around the car to open the door for you.

“Pretty right?” You grinned up at him as his eyes took over the scene, the leaves that covered the ground around your feet all the prettiest shades of orange and yellow, the scent of cinnamon filling the air around you, as patches and patches of pumpkins laid in front of you, all surrounded by a brown picket fence.

He just placed another kiss on your the top of your head, clasping his hand with yours, fingers interlinked between one another. The smile on his face and look in his eyes said more about his excitement than words possibly good — so you didn’t mind the lack of response as you began walking towards the patches.

“I wanna find the biggest one.” You mumbled out, looking around the large patches. There was families, friends, other couples surrounding you but your focus was on nothing but Spencer, and finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

Spencer snorted as he looked up at from patches, to look at you. He took in how you looked curled into one of his knitted sweaters, arms wrapped around your torso in order to shield you from the autumn breeze.

“I think that kid just took the biggest one”

You furrowed your eyebrows and spun your body to look behind you to where a kid was walking — To be fair the pumpkin his dad was holding was pretty big, but the smile on the kids face when he jumped around holding hands with his mum made you not mind so much.

“Well.. I’ll get the second biggest” You settled. Spencer smiled as he shook his head, tugging you slightly closer by your hand to pull you into his chest. His hand left yours as his arms came to rest around your waist.

You laughed, as your hands came up to his upper back and the back of his head gently. The two of you swayed side to side for a moment. “Happy?” You asked, silly question. You could feel it radiating off of him.

He pulled his head away to press his forehead against yours, his nose knocking yours lightly as he scrunched up his face for a moment, before pulling back to look down at your face. His lip quipped up into a soft smile. “Very.”

You lean back, his hands moving to hold onto your hips as his thumb slipped up under your sweater, his sweater. His thumb ran small circles over the skin in place. Your smile widened, heart exploding as your skin burnt under the cold of his fingertips.

“Come on, I want to find the perfect pumpkin. We should have a pumpkin carving competition this year, that would be so much fun” You rambled as you pulled away from his touch to walk around the lines and lines of pumpkins.

He laughed, “We should.” He agreed softly, because why would he ever deny you what you wanted, especially something to do with halloween.

He watched as you bent down to run your fingertips run gently along one of the pumpkins in the row: It was a decent size and probably would be simply to carve since he knew your mind was now hyper-fixated on the idea of pumpkin carving instead of finding the biggest possible pumpkin.

“Actually- Did you know each year 150 million dollars is made from pumpkins, and 98 percent of that is from people who purchase them to make jack-o’-lanterns, and 46% of amercia—”

“How many is that?” You cut off as you look up at him from where you were leant down to look at the pumpkins. He smiled.

“A hundred and fifty four million” He answered without even having to think about it. It never failed to stun you. You hummed allowing him to continue on telling you his facts.

“So 46 percent — Or A hundred and fifty four million people, in America make jack-o-lanterns every year. During Halloween the most reason for injury is actually because of pumpkin carving.” He stated.

You stood up, a soft smile on your face as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Well maybe people should be more careful. I’ve never gotten an injury while carving a pumpkin” You hummed out.

He snorted, taking your hand gently. “Have you ever carved a pumpkin?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

You gasped, “Yes- Actually!! I have.” You said, your voice an octave higher than normally. He smiled, nodding his head in disbelief which only caused you to shake your own.

The rest of the day consisted of you and Spencer walking around the pumpkin patch, making jokes and laughing with one another, you even tried a pumpkin, cinnamon cookie from a stand nearby.. Safe to say you weren’t too fond of it.

But you were fond of the way Spencer’s eyes shone in a different sort of way when the two of you finally picked out a pumpkin each, the way his mood seemed unwavering during the fall season.

You loved him, and you loved halloween.

[gguk-n]

Mission- Cheer up Logan

I've just had a sad dream with Logan in it and I told him how much I love him and how important he is after watching all the shit Williams and Vowles have been doing. I need this to heal myself. I hope it heals everyone rooting for Logan too

Summary- Literal Logan fluff.

Y/N didn't dislike many people and hate would be a strong word in her dictionary but right now James Vowles and the Williams racing team made her hate them with the tirade they had going against her poor boyfriend which was pissing her off; worst of all, it was affecting Logan. Her happy puppy of a boyfriend was lost. He would either be at work or looking lost and depressed at home. They no longer had witty conversations going on or Y/N teasing Logan any and every chance she got. He would barely smile at her at times. So, Y/N took it upon herself to make her Logan happy.

It was one of those days, the weather was bright and sunny, Logan didn't have to go to work and the previous GP may have been bad but it was slightly better. It was around 9 and they were still in bed. Y/N woke up to Logan 'asleep' at least he pretended to be. She knew him like the back of her hand and every time he acted like he was sleeping his eyes would be shut tight. This habit of his made her smile. She looked up at him while resting her palms against his chest.

Y/N POV

"Good morning, baby boy" I whispered followed by a kiss on the lip which was followed by a grunt and covering his face with the blanket. "Babe, we need to good shopping, we're out of everything." I emphasised. "You can do that alone" he said, still under the duvet. "Yes but you know I hate shopping alone and I wanna show off my super hot racer boyfriend to the world, come on." I said while pulling the covers off. His big blue eyes met mine and I pouted my lips. "I won't take long, I promise. Pinky promise." I exclaimed while holding out my pinky. "You're hurting my ribs, babe." came a strangled cry only to notice my elbow jabbing his ribs. I giggled while apologising and dragging him to the bathroom. We were dressed in 20 minutes and out the door. As Logan started the car, he looked at me and said, "The only reason you're taking me along is so that I can drive you there, right?" I was appalled at the accusation but replied with a smile, "one of the reasons, babe." I said. He laughed asking, "Couldn't you drive there yourself?" "Why would I do something when I have a pro who can do it for me." Logan shook his head. "I have the hottest formula 1 driver at my beck and call so am not even allowed to show him off; is an atrocity I say." dramatically sighing. Logan let out a big laugh, one I hadn't heard pass his lips in ages. It made my heart flutter and tears spring up in my eyes.

The car ride was filled with singing along to songs playing on the radio which we hadn't done in so long. It felt nice to be able to have my Logan back. The trip to the grocery store was uneventful. Once back, I made quick work of putting every thing away. I went back to Logan sat on the couch in the living room and made myself comfortable on his lap, "darling, what would you like for dinner?" He was pulled back from whatever thought he had as I sat on his lap, "Pizza and Pasta" He said. I looked him in the eyes and asked, "What about we go on a date?" Logan looked at me quizzically. "It could be a home date, like the good old days. We could cook together and then dress up to have dinner together. I even bought a few dresses I didn't get to show you." I elaborated.

Logan's POV

In all honesty I couldn't care what we did. I didn't really wanna go out and getting dressed just to eat at home was such a waste of time. But I couldn't say no, when her face was literally hoping for me to say yes. She kept looking at me expectantly and I didn't wanna let another person down, so I agreed. The way her face lit was better than winning any GP. She leaned in and gave me the sloppiest kiss and pulled me to the kitchen to help her cook. I would never say I could cook when Y/N did all the heavy lifting. "Baby boy, you look lost in thought. Is there another woman that is occupying your thoughts?" she said in a southern accent while placing both her arms around my shoulder and wrapping them around my neck. It made my breathe hitch; the effect this woman had on me even after so many years was shocking to say the least. I placed my hands on her waist and replied in an equally fake southern accent, "Darling, there ain't no woman worth my time when you're standing in front of me." "You better." she said while leaving multiple kissed on my face making me laugh. The cooking ended quiet quickly for two people; where one of them couldn't cook and the other kept violating ever health and safety protocol by kissing and touching the person next to them.

Y/N POV

We were almost done with dinner and I asked Logan to go dress up. I would get dressed just before plating the food in the guest room because I didn't want Logan to see the outfit I had planed for him. About 15 minutes later, Logan was back at the table and I left to get dressed. It took me only 20 minutes which was a record. I wore a black lacy mini-dress which barely covered my ass and tits at the same time but it made me look hot and that's all that mattered. I stepped out of the room to an eagerly waiting Logan.

Logan's POV

My mouth was on the floor when I saw what she was wearing. "You don't plan on wearing this out, do you?" I said and then quickly added, "If you did, I don't mind. I can fight but I need this image burnt into my retinas." I ogled. She giggled and walked towards me, "You can take it off, once dinner is over." She whispered in my ear. Dinner was done in record time. We headed to the bedroom so that I could hold her to her words.

While cuddling, Y/N said, "You know, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me." I cut her off because she was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Y/N shushed me, "Right now, I'm talking and you're gonna listen. I love you Logan Sargeant more than there are words that I can use to express myself. I'm so happy every day to wake up next to you and support you in achieving your dreams and aspirations. I hope you remember how good you are and deserve everything you've worked towards. A couple fuck ups don't undermine the talent and hard work that is Logan Sargeant. No matter what anyone says, you are the most handsome and talented driver that deserves to be in F1. Those assholes are blind to not be able to see your pure raw unfiltered talent. I love you baby boy." She finished her speech. There were tears in my eyes that had started flowing which Y/N wiped away with a kiss. I pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you for sticking with me. I promise I won't let you down or let anyone make me feel like crap again." She smiled while drawing a heart on my back. We fell asleep wrapped in each others arms.

[hauntedrain]

F1 Driver Dating Headcanons | Fem! Reader |

Includes: Charles, Max, Oscar, And Lando

Disclaimer: these might be unrealistic but they are ofc headcanons. Also, I might do a part 2 of more or different drivers? Not edited.

Charles Leclerc *°:⋆ₓₒ

A gentle lover.

Would do anything and everything for you. You want a specific food? He'll go pick it up for you. Looking at something online? He'll buy it for you. Literally everything and anything.

Like, "No Charles is okay, I don't need it right now, and plus it's too much." and he would be like, "No if you want it'll get it, anything for you." and then he would buy it even if you still say its too much or something like that.

He reminds me of a puppy, so I imagine him following you everywhere. However, if it was somewhere where there's a big crowd or a bunch of fans hell be in front to protect you.

I feel like he's more of a romantic person with dates and gestures.

like candle-lit dinners, flowers all the time, fancy dinners and outings, etc.

Would compliment you 24/7 in the sweetest ways whenever, wherever, about whatever.

Max Verstappen .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

A dominant domestic lover.

His priorities are you and your safety.

He would most definitely be mad if someone hurt you. Like for example, if someone bumped into you at an event he would probably give them a slightly dirty look and then pull you closer to him so you do not get bumped again.

Would be really sweet with you.

On his hands and knees for you.

Like if you're sick, by the time you wake up there's a cup of tea, soup, and medicine. Or if you need help grabbing something would already be reaching for it. It's like he's 2 steps ahead of you but in a sweet way.

I think he would definitely like to hear about the little things about you. how your day was, or plans you have.

I also think he would like shopping with you for some reason, like showing him or trying on clothes that you like. its like a mini fashion show for him but with you as the model.

Oscar Piastri ✧･ﾟ: *

I feel like he would be the type of boyfriend that would meet your friends or family, and they initially think that he's mean or cold, but over time they realize he's really sweet and nice.

I think he would secretly make a playlist for you or about you. Like songs that remind him of you or that he knows you like.

He would probably form this by playing random music during drives and keeping note of what you like, and then once he has time he puts them into a playlist for you that he plays when you're with him or if he misses you.

He's probably more of a quality time lover. He enjoys doing things with you and he has dates that revolve around that.

I feel like he's the type to give random gifts for no reason at all. Like he just shows up with flowers, jewelry, or a book or something.

for example, he would randomly show up with a stuffed animal or something he saw while he was away and explain that he saw it and thought of you so he bought it to give you.

I think he would like to keep your guy's relationship more private but not secret.

Lando Norris ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

I think he would be a touchy bf. (Love language is physical touch)

He always has to be touching you at all times, whether that be holding your hand, hand on your hip, or having his hand on the small of your back.

You guys do "childish things" as dates. Like an arcade, coloring books, building legos, or board game nights. Though, on the other hand, I also think there's a side where it's more "romantic", like nice dinners or something fancy. It would be a mix but either way it's something special.

obsessed bf x pretty gf type beat.

If you ask him to take pictures for you or of you he would be making sure you look good and he's getting the best pictures he can get as if it's his 9-5 job.

You would also probably get messages from Oscar during the season telling you how he won't shut up about you.

I feel like he would buy matching things with you, like jewelry, hoodies, or even something that's just the same color.

I think he would soft-launch your relationship tbh, but once it's public he wont shut up about you.

I hope that you guys like this (sorry that it's so short) & thank you so much for 500 notes on my last fic &lt;3

[rottingparts]

Cool okay! May I request some general romantic head cannons for Bay! Optimus, Ironhide and Ratchet ? Thank you so much ! :)

(SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! My internet is fucked, but only on my computer, so i'm struggling atm.)

OF COURSE!! My favorites.... I mean I totally love them all equally :) I wrote them with a Human!Reader (that's all i write but i just wanted to calrify)!

Optimus Prime:

My love... probably the most normal of them honestly

Isn't like super duper outwardly romantic when others are around. He isn't too fond of PDA. BUT he still shows affection in lowkey ways.

Like, he will gently nudge you if you seem anxious or off in general, to get your attention and when you let him know you're ok he gives you a slight nod and continues on with his conversation.

It's really no secret, because him crouching down and his giant hand descending from his side and nudging you is not very subtle.

He is way more protective over you than any other human. Will not let anything harm you. And if something does, nothing will get in his way to help/save you.

LOVES (when it's just the two of you) for you to gently hold his face in your tiny (compared to him) hands! Double points if you gently bonk your forehead against his.

If you are not feeling it, having a bad day, what have you, he will take you for a ride to calm down. his voice is so soothing! Sometimes he'll even talk to you until you fall asleep if that is what you need.

You two became an 'item' mostly because you had made offhanded comment to Cade about Optimus being attractive in a way and Cade shut that shit down immediately but Optimus heard. It was too late, Cade has to deal with this now...

Literally so sweet! Will kill for you!

Ironhide:

Oh my... definitely the least normal (in an endearing way).

Doesn't mind/completely understand PDA honestly. Like, you wanna grab him and nuzzle his face? Please do. He will be forever grateful.

He definitely wants to show you off, he is so proud of you!! He also needs everyone to know you are taken :)

Like he will do little things to make sure the others know he is with you, like bringing you towards him when someone gets a little too close.

Wants you close to him at all times, so he knows you're safe.

If anyone threatens you in any capacity (even if its sarcasm from a close friend) his arm is around you, guarding you, while he points a gun at the one threatening you. It takes a minute to calm him down.

If you are like visibly upset/anxious/not having it, he is very vocal about pulling you out of the situation. Has zero problems taking you away in the middle of a conversation.

Will literally go into alt mode and just... drive away with you. Your friends don't like that too much.

Ironhide definitely was weird about his feelings at first. Him liking a human? No thank you. Definitely tried to push the feelings away, until getting tired and telling you how he felt.

When you lit up and said you felt the same? Oh he was over the moon!

Very protective and secretly very sweet! Will also kill for you!

Ratchet:

My sweet cinnamon bun....

Will literally die for your hugs!! Please just wrap your arms around his neck when he bends down and hug him so tight!

Doesn't mind PDA (in a sense of like hugging and being sweet) but does get very flustered!!

Call him any pet name (honey, dear, etc.) and he will combust. If he could blush, he definitely would. Really wanna make him weak in the knees? Call him 'My love.'

Ratchet would worry about you constantly honestly. Waaay more than anyone else.

I mean, you're just a human! You're squishy and small. There is a lot to worry about!

He realized he liked you because he was so worried for you, then he grew even more worried!

He accidently confessed his feelings for you when rambling about how worried he had been for you, and when you go wide eyed he is retracting everything and ready to run away.

When you reassure him and tell him you like him too? He is even more likely to combust.

Is always wanting to check in on you, and learns very quickly what upsets you and what soothes you. he is very attentive.

So fucking sweet and will die for you!!

[blackynsupremacy]

COOPER HELPING YOU RECOVER FROM SURGERY

pairing: cooper koch x black!fem!reader

summary: no matter what operation you get, the aftermath is the hardest part. fortunately, you have cooper by your side to make things easier.

contains: based off this request, fluff, perceived as either platonic or romantic it’s up to the reader, mention of pain, illness, broken bones, needles, drawing blood, vomiting, anesthesia, cooper being a green flag always, hurt/comfort.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

• there always comes a time in your health when greater measures have to be taken.

• you guessed it: surgery.

• there’s many ways you could end up in this situation.

• your wisdom teeth, tonsils, or appendix had to removed.

• maybe you’ve broken a bone so bad that not just a cast would do.

• if you’re not scared of hospitals, needles, and the like, you’re set, sis!

• if so, don’t worry! you’ve got cooper koch being the rock you need in a time like this.

• if it’s an emergency surgery like appendicitis or a broken bone, you know he’s going to be in that waiting room.

• he will keep your family updated with everything they need to know.

• he’s a bit anxious because appendicitis and broken bones may be common, but they’re nothing to play with.

• he believes that the doctors are doing the best they can.

• cooper might go to take a bathroom or coffee break, but he’s not leaving the hospital until you’re safely put in a room.

• if you’re having a minor, scheduled surgery like tonsil or wisdom teeth removal, he’s going to make sure you took all of the precautions that the doctor gave you prior to surgery.

• “y/n, did you remember to use that mouthwash?”

• “remember, you can’t eat for at least eight hours before tomorrow—i know it sucks, babes, but this is for your health.”

• he’s obviously driving you and gives you a pep talk on the way there.

• “don’t think about it too much, okay? it’ll be over before you know it.”

• to lighten the mood, you beg cooper to record you if you’re lit off the anesthesia.

• he already had that in mind, but it was refreshing to hear that you were on board with it.

• while you’re under the knife, you know he’s sticking around no matter how long it takes.

• looks at you with sympathy when you’re being wheeled out from the o.r.

• it was all over and you pulled through—you’re cooper’s trooper.

• you’re loopy and lit right now, so he takes the opportunity to film you.

• you’re a whole trip.

• “cooper, you the best white boy on my rosterrrrrr!” you slur, doing a little dance. lord, he is dying!

• “cooper, cooper gimme a hugggg! pleaseeee?” as much as he wanted to, the doctor was literally doing an examination on you.

• you even catch an attitude with the doctor while under the influence, “man, get off meee! i want cooper!”

• you try to reach your arms out, but that iv in your arm caused you to hiss in pain.

• “it’s okay, sweetheart, i’ll give you a hug later when you get some rest.” he reassured, trying to contain his laughter.

• “you did so well, honey.” he’d softly cheer, planting a kiss to your hand, forehead, and cheek.

• “i’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

• if you’re feeling nauseous from that anesthesia, he’s got a bag right in front of your face for you.

• if you do, he rubs your back in comfort.

• “let it out, babe. it’s okay.”

• if you have to stay in the hospital for a few days—girl, cooper is gonna come in clutch.

• while you’re asleep, he will get you a bag packed with all of the essentials you need like your toothbrush, fresh undies, deodorant, skin care, and your electronics just in case.

• he definitely brings your bonnet and edge scarf because you’re gonna be on bed rest! it doesn’t matter what style your hair is in, he knows that being with you long enough he finally understands your hair care routine.

• he spoils you, he might get you a new one and some non-slip socks in your favorite color.

• you absolutely loathe the hospital food.

• cooper buys or cooks for you the food that is appropriate for your condition.

• you cutely ask if he can feed you because you’re still a bit loopy and in pain.

• cooper melts and he accepts. you don’t even have to ask. he gently feeds you and praises you when you get your fill.

• if you hate needles, he holds your hand if the doctor has to put in another to draw blood for testing.

• when it’s time to go home, cooper attentively takes notes of all the post op care for you. prescriptions, home remedies, bandage/gauze changes, all of that fun stuff.

• cooper is so amazing at nursing you back to health.

• he makes sure you take your medicine.

• he continues to feed you the foods you need, but your favorite is the ice cream.

• he makes you sundaes!

• don’t skip on that water in his presence.

• if it’s too painful for you to walk, he is gonna carry you.

• he’s got you so spoiled!

• massages, binge watching, and helping with your hair is all part of the package.

• laughter is the best medicine and cooper proves that by showing you the video of when you were lit after the procedure.

• “man, what i was doing!?” you held yourself trying not to overdo it in laughter. it was like watching this whole other side of you.

• “but you still looked cute though!” cooper defended, joining in your laughter.

• when he hears the melodious sound of your laughter and the brightness of your smile, he knows in his heart that you’re getting better day by day.

[starringthesturniolos]

my girl- chris sturniolo

summary- chris has liked you for a long time and he wants to take you out on a date, his first date ever.

A/N- this is one of my first pics I made from a request, hope y'all like it. it's super fluffy and I'm here for it.

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you stare at yourself in the mirror, and smile at your reflection. you had looked up a new way to do your makeup and you wore black leggings with a cropped shirt (that made your boobs look great). after 2 years of being really close friends, chris finally asked you out. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought, before your phone pinged. you see that the message is from chris and you scramble to open it.

I'll be there in ten. remember to make sure to wear something you can move around in :)

your heart warms at seeing that he already took care of all the planning and arrangements for your date. chris was a pretty go with the flow kind of guy, so the fact that he went out of his way to make set plans showed how much he cared. you sighed happily and went to go wait for him downstairs.

after a while the door rings and you literally run to open it in excitement. "chris!" you practically throw yourself into his arms making him chuckle. "someones excited" he teases, his breathe tickling your ear. you blush and let go of him only to see a 7'11 bag in his grasp. you look up at him curiously and he smiles. "I stopped and got you a Snapple and two king size Reeses on the way here." you do a quick happy dance and immediately dive into the bag to grab the Reeses. "damn, slow down, we're eating later" he says while laughing his ass off. you scarf one of the cups down and he heads back to the car opening the passengers door for you. "wait matts not in the car, so who the hell is driving??" you say once you see not a soul in their car. "shhhhh" chris puts one finger to his lips with a goofy mischevious look on his face. "NO SHOT, YOUR DRIVING ILLEGALLY???" you yell in shock as he closes his door. "yeah, and guess what? I'm gonna give lightning McQueen a run for his money." he says as he pulls out.

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surprisingly enough, he pulls into a parking spot with both of you completely unharmed. you can see now that you guys are going to top golf. "you just brought me here so you can show off." you say jockingly rolling your eyes. "I just wanted to look good in front of my girl. how bout this, every time I get a good hit, we make out. that sounds like a great plan." he bites his lips and it reminds you of how he acts when he's getting flirty with matt. "that shit was so weird." you say after a minute and he laughs at your disappointed look.

we walk in to top golf and you immediately notice that no one else is in the building. he rented the place out?! , you think to yourself in awe. none of the triplets flexed their money, but times like these reminded you how well off they are. a swell of pride hits you at how far they have come, from nothing to something. your pulled out of your moment when you see an assortment of workers come and grab both you and chris' bags and a young gentleman leads both of you to your spot. on the table, there are candles lit and a bouquet of sunflowers in a vase. your favorite flowers. chocolate covered strawberries are out on the table as well, and on the mesh area that catches balls, Wall-e, your favorite Disney movie, was being projected. you marveled at all the thoughtful gifts and a lump forms in your throat. "you did all this for me? these are all my favorite things." you look up at him tears rolling down your cheeks. he wipes them and smiles down at you softly. "matt and nick helped me with all this too. they were almost as excited as I was." he says and more tears fall down your face at the thought of matt and nick helping. this must have taken forever. he cups your face and shakes it gently. "if you ever stop cryin', we can get to playing, hun" he teases. you wipe your face and walk to the podium to put in you and chris' info, while chris orders both of you drinks.

suddenly your smile drops and embarrassment floods you . "um chris.... I'm really bad at golf" you turn to him only to see him coming towards you. "yeah I know" he laughs. "nick went with you one time and he said you were HORRIBLE" you giggle at his potent Boston accent when he says the word horrible and he scoffs. "like really bad, so lets see what you got." he steps back so you can grab a club. Once a ball rolls out, you line up and make a poor excuse for a ready stance. "what is that, kid?" chris almost chokes on his drink from laughter and your face turns red with embarrassment. you try and swing at the ball quickly to get it over with but you miss. and to make matters worse, the club slipped out of your hands and you accidentally threw it all the way out into the field. this sends chris into a whole fit of laughter and you can't help but laugh with him after a while. after both of you calm down, chris grabs a club and comes up behind you. he grabs your hands and puts them on the club and lines it up with the golf ball. his chest is pressed against your back and you can feel his steady heartbeat. "you start just like this, ma." he says into your ear. your body is heating up and you can barely pay attention to what he's saying, he smirks at the fact. "you listening, y/n?" he says as his lips graze against your ear. "mhm" you manage to get out in a daze. He smiles at your flustered state before he moves both your arms and his to make a swing. he hits the ball perfectly and it goes so far you loose sight of it.

"nice hit" he says while tucking your loose hair behind your ear. its his turn now.

let's just say the whole rest of the night was filled with laughs and smiles. you ate chocolate strawberries and watched wall-e in the company of the sweetest man you knew. when the night came to an end, when he had to drop you off, he grabbed you before you could go into the house. "did you have fun?" he asks while dragging you to him slowly. "yeah, lots" you answer happily grabbing onto his jacket sleeves to pull him closer. he looks down at your hand on his sleeves and steps closer. "been smiling all night" he says looking down and admiring the same smile you’ve been wearing almost all night. "okay, well so have you!" you quip while laughing nervously. he pulled you all the way into him by your waist, your whole body pressed against his. his face was near inches away before he replies. "because being with you makes me happy" he says softly.

"same" you whisper looking at his lips. he takes the hint and kisses you gently. this is the love I've always wanted, you think to yourself as he kisses and holds you like something precious. he pulls back and his eyes travel your face like he is trying to embed it in his memory. you look away nervously at being ogled at but he grabs your chin and brings your gaze back to him. "good night, ma" he says pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

"goodnight" you smile at him for the last time tonight before heading inside.