#seeing their chemistry is always a treat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hungharrington · 8 months ago

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i feel it coming, babe

technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it.

A smidge. A pinch.

It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like…

Like there was never anything wrong with you.

Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers.

Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.

That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again.

But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses.

When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve.

It means kisses all the time.

On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa.

He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it.

And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.

One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly.

He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.

Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk.

For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it.

Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them.

They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down.

Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside.

You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.

He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.

“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?”

Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you.

“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear.

“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?”

Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what kind of boyfriend do you think I am?”

His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.

“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling.

He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern.

“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?”

Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.”

You gasp dramatically.

Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.”

His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”

You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.”

Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.

“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before.

And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.

His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.

All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound.

“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?”

Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus.

Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea.

“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.”

Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.

It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.

Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way.

His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water.

“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“

He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso.

“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek.

Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways.

“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.”

He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click.

Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water.

The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty.

Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium.

You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot.

You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail. A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself.

It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into.

On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and—

Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through.

You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts.

He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention.

“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?”

He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it.

“What are you thinking about?”

“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.”

Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.

“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?”

This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover.

For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise.

You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting.

“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves.

Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes.

He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster.

“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper.

The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.

“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy.

Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants.

You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.

Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with.

“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“

“I was not—“

“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.”

You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely.

Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.

“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.”

The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise.

“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,”

He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.”

“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face.

“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.”

You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is.

It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once.

“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”

You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.”

Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it.

“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows.

The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS.

You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.

You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says—

“Did you use my body wash?”

You freeze.

“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended.

Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words.

“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants.

It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression.

Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly.

“Are you—“

“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”

It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations.

A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms.

And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.

“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.”

Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!

A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath.

“What is it about the body wash?”

Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red.

“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…”

Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.”

Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.

“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…”

You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.

Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband.

“Maybe, I can be the remedy.”

A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours.

“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.”

“I’m aware how it works, Steve.”

“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.”

He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation.

Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband.

This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand.

Steve groans lowly.

You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock.

“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead.

“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering.

Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?”

“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.”

But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own.

You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together.

Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours.

It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before.

It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks.

“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours.

You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you.

And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever.

Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?

“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything.

“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance.

“You wanna what?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body.

“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.”

It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face.

“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say.

He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.”

Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.

You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…

Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat.

Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—”

Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—

“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.”

The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“

“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“

For a long moment, you just stare up at him.

“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.

You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?”

Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance.

An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“

“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.”

His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair.

“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.”

He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons.

“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs.

You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs.

It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question.

“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.”

Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah?”

The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak.

“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled.

Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh.

Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months.

As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion.

“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.”

“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing.

A mark from him— a mark of a lover.

You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck.

Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much.

Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed.

“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.”

Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.”

He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise.

“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.”

You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.

“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them.

“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.

You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest.

“Steve.”

“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!”

You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time.

“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be.

“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.”

“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.”

Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.”

And then you kiss him.

For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel.

“Can I take these off?”

His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles.

Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties.

“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.”

He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence.

“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.

Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?”

Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants.

He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.

“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?”

The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.

“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.”

He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs.

Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.

Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier.

His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh.

“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.

He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it.

Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?”

Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them.

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.”

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you.

Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout.

“Hey!” He exclaims.

It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin.

“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious.

Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up.

“Stop getting distracted.” You jest.

“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust.

He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through.

Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?”

You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.”

Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.”

“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.”

Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—

The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening.

“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.

He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?”

Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it.

Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath.

Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this?

One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention.

“Sorry,” you say instinctively.

“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.

He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves.

“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust.

You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again.

He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine.

“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve.

Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more.

“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow.

“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that.

Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth.

To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.

He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out.

You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt.

Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure.

It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit.

“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.

Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?”

God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex.

“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?”

Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night.

But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair.

“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper.

Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly.

You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze.

“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.”

You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.

You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside.

You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath.

Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately.

Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.”

Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I want to do more with you.”

A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.

“I want to do more, right now.”

Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs.

Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more.

When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.

You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail.

Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.

And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time.

But Steve’s cock is… pretty.

Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought.

You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it.

Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does.

“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.

“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.”

You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty.

Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure.

The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.

Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix.

You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.

You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant.

“Woah, y’okay?”

You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.”

Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does.

He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.

“We can stop,” Steve whispers.

You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips.

“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.”

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone.

The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows.

“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“

“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body.

Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.”

Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.

“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.”

You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly.

He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”

You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close.

“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.

He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.”

You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply.

“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.”

Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.

“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?”

He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.”

“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose.

“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?”

Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.”

Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.”

For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you.

After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?”

Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm.

“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.”

You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down.

As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it.

“Ew,” you laugh.

“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front.

You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck.

You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back.

You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself.

“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you.

“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself.

“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch.

This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward.

Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?”

You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,”

Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment.

“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving.

And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully.

You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.

Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck.

You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."

You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.

“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."

His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch.

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together.

“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again.

“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.”

He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.

“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,”

You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder.

“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.”

“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time.

Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.”

Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight.

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.”

Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest.

You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.

You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest.

He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss.

He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer.

“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?”

You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”

Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one.

Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.

Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear.

Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock.

Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy.

You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.

You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly.

You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning.

You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.

Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss.

You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you.

Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.

After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs.

Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.

Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you.

“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.”

That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.”

He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.

Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains.

You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.

“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”

Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands.

"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.

“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?”

You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done.

“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.”

Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is.

Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.

Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.

But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.

"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.

Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.

He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."

If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.

Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.

"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.

"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.

Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."

His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.

He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).

Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"

You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.

"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.

And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.

There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.

There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.

Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.

tags below! (seven months later...)

@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles

@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis

@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone

@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth

(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #jay writes #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x you smut #steve x reader smut #all my chatter goes after the tags now cos did u guys know that after twenty tags apparently they just dont count tags???#lawd knows im not wasting my first twenny on my rambling #i have MUCH to say about this piece #but mainly im so glad its fookin FINISHED #i can literally see the line breaks in the fic where i stopped and left it for a month #i know the fandom be quiet between seasons but hopefully people be down for some #good ol super into each other figuring it out sex <3 #again - this is entirely indulgent tehe !#but i know there's lot of peeps out there with similar experiences and i hope this resonates for them #mwah!#enough jabbering !

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moonlightwritingf1 · 2 days ago

Text

The Sweet Surprise | LN4

⋆˚✿˖° summary ━━━━━━━ Lando finds Y/N's sex toy

⋆˚✿˖° pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆˚✿˖° word count ━━━━━━━ 2.7k

⋆˚✿˖° warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

Based on this request.

It was a quiet Friday evening in London, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to set. Inside her apartment, Y/N was still at work, wrapped up in her typical 9-to-5 routine. The familiar hum of her laptop screen and the rustle of papers were the only sounds filling the space. But there was something different in the air today, something she couldn’t quite place. Perhaps it was the way the evening light seemed to make the room feel a little warmer, or maybe it was the anticipation of the surprise she knew was coming.

Lando had always been a bit unpredictable when it came to their time together. After weeks of gentle teasing and persistent gifts, she had finally agreed to go on a date with him—six dates, to be precise. Each one had brought them closer, the chemistry undeniable, the tension palpable. Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was just playing with her. She wasn’t sure whether he was serious about her or simply enjoying the chase. And as much as she tried to convince herself that she wasn’t falling for him, she couldn’t ignore the fluttering in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Tonight, she had no idea what to expect. All she knew was that Lando was coming over, and he had promised her a surprise.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

She opened the door to find Lando standing there, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. In his hands was a box, carefully wrapped with a ribbon. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he said, his voice low, yet teasing. “I brought you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, feeling a sudden wave of curiosity. “What’s this?”

Lando grinned mischievously. “You’ll see. Open it.”

Inside the box was a cake—no ordinary cake, but the one from her favorite bakery. The one she had mentioned in passing months ago, how she rarely got the chance to have it because it was always sold out. Lando had somehow managed to secure a special order, paying extra for the bakery to make it just for her.

“You actually got it?” she asked, her voice filled with surprise. “How did you even—”

“I have my ways,” he said with a wink. “But you deserve something special. I figured this would be the perfect treat.”

Her heart warmed at the gesture. She hadn’t expected something so thoughtful. “You really went all out.”

“I would do anything for you,” he said softly, his eyes locking with hers. “I hope you like it.”

They sat down together, savoring the rich layers of the cake, the sweetness of the moment matching the sweetness of the dessert. The conversation flowed easily, the two of them slipping into a comfortable rhythm. The tension between them was undeniable, but they both danced around it—teasing, flirting, but never crossing the line.

After they finished their cake, Y/N stood up to put the remaining slices in the fridge. As she did, Lando leaned back in his chair, watching her with that familiar glint in his eyes.

“So,” Lando said casually, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched her put away the leftover cake. His tone was smooth, almost too casual. “Do you have the book you promised me?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, momentarily confused. “Book?”

“Yes, the one you said I absolutely have to read,” he replied, smirking. “You said it’s in your room.''

“Oh!” Y/N’s eyes widened as realization struck. “Right. That book.”

He chuckled softly, amused by how easily distracted she was. “Where is it?”

“It’s on my nightstand,” she said, closing the fridge door. “You can grab it. I think it’s on top of the stack.”

“Sure,” Lando said, pushing off the counter and heading toward her bedroom.

Y/N didn’t think twice about it. Why would she? The book was exactly where she said it was, and her room was relatively tidy—at least, she thought it was. She turned back to the counter, wiping it down absentmindedly as her mind wandered to the cake he had surprised her with.

Meanwhile, Lando stepped into her room, his gaze immediately falling on the nightstand. The book was there, just as she’d said, but his attention didn’t stay on it for long.

Because there, on the bed, lying in plain sight, was something far more attention-grabbing: her dildo.

He blinked, taken aback for a second, before a slow, mischievous grin spread across his face. Of all the things he’d expected to find, this was certainly not one of them.

“Did you find it?” Y/n called out from the kitchen, her voice carrying a casual tone as she slid the remaining slice of cake into the fridge. The sweet aroma of vanilla and buttercream lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of Lando’s cologne that seemed to follow him everywhere.

Silence.

“Lando?” she tried again, this time tilting her head toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. Her heart began to thud softly in her chest, a nervous flutter she couldn’t quite explain. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and stepped into the hallway, her bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor.

When she reached her bedroom door, she froze.

Lando was standing by her bed, his back to her, shoulders tense. His gaze was fixed on something on the mattress, something Y/n had completely forgotten about until now. Her dildo.

Oh God. Her stomach dropped. Heat rushed to her cheeks, spreading down her neck and across her chest. How could I forget? Earlier that day, after a particularly steamy session in the shower, she’d left it there, too lost in her own thoughts to remember to put it away.

“Uh…” she started, her voice barely audible. “I can explain…”

Lando turned slowly, his blue/ green eyes darkening as they met hers. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t mocking—it was hungry. “Explain what?” he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping off a spoon. “That you like to keep things… handy?”

Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, trying to will away the embarrassment. “It’s not what you think,” she muttered, though even she knew how weak that sounded.

Lando took a step closer, his fingers brushing against the edge of the bed. “Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with something deeper. Something raw. He picked up the toy, turning it over in his hands as if inspecting it. “Impressive size,” he added, his smirk widening. “Guess you don’t settle for less, huh?”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Could you not?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Why? Embarrassed?” He closed the distance between them, stopping just inches from her. His free hand reached out, gently tugging one of hers away from her face. “You shouldn’t be.”

His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a way that made her breath catch. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, searching his for any hint of judgment. But all she found was… desire.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above hers. “Do you really think I care about that?” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “If anything, it just makes me wonder… What else are you hiding behind that tough-girl act of yours?”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. This was dangerous. Too dangerous. She’d spent months keeping him at arm’s length, convincing herself he wasn’t serious, that he didn’t see her the way she secretly hoped he did. But now, with him so close, with his words unraveling her defenses, she wasn’t sure she could hold back anymore.

“I’m not hiding anything,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Bullshit,” he said bluntly, his tone firm yet gentle. “You’re always hiding, Y/n. Behind your sarcasm, your independence, your I-don’t-need-anyone attitude. But I see you. I always have.”

Her breath hitched. No one had ever talked to her like this, stripped her bare with just a few words. It terrified her. And yet…

Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “And what if you don’t like what you see?”

He paused, his expression softening. Slowly, he set the toy down on the nightstand and cupped her face in his hands. His touch was so tender, so genuine, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I already do,” he said, his voice steady. “Every single part of you.”

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension. Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she searched his face, looking for any sign of deceit. But there was none. Just honesty. And something else… something that made her knees weak.

“Lando…” she breathed, her resolve crumbling.

He didn’t wait for her to finish. His lips crashed onto hers, the kiss fierce and hungry, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. Y/n gasped into his mouth, her hands instinctively clutching the front of his shirt. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers, and she melted into him, every thought, every doubt, vanishing in an instant.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing heavily, Lando rested his forehead against hers. “Stop running from me,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Let me in.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, her body trembling with the weight of his words. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But fear still lingered, clawing at the edges of her mind.

“What if I’m not enough for you?” she asked, her voice breaking.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling her face. “You already are,” he said firmly. “You always have been.”

She searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity. For the first time in months, maybe even years, she let herself believe it.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His lips curved into a soft smile, and he kissed her again, this time slower, more tender. Their bodies pressed together, heat building between them, until neither of them could think straight.

“Bed,” Lando murmured against her lips, his voice husky.

She nodded, her heart racing as he guided her backward, their movements clumsy yet frantic. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, she fell onto it, pulling him down with her. He hovered above her, his eyes burning with desire as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare.”

Lando’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a searing path of heat as his fingers gently traced the curve of her waist. Y/n’s breath hitched, her mind still reeling from the intensity of their kiss. She could feel the weight of him above her, the warmth of his body pressing into hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

His hand slid lower, brushing against her thigh, and she instinctively parted her legs, inviting him closer. But instead of continuing where she expected, Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with mischief as he glanced toward the bed. Her cheeks flushed when she realized what—or rather, who—he was looking at.

The dildo. Still lying there, shamelessly exposed.

“So…” Lando drawled, his voice low and teasing. “Is this how you spend your Friday nights?”

Y/n groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my God, can we just forget about that?”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Why would I want to forget?” His fingers brushed over her wrist, prying her hands away from her face so he could look into her eyes. “I think it’s hot.”

Her heart raced at his words, and she bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Hot? The idea of him finding something like that attractive made her stomach flip in the most delicious way. But before she could say anything, Lando reached for the toy, holding it up between them with a smirk.

“You know,” he said, his tone dripping with playful confidence, “I could give you a much better experience than this.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as she processed his words. “W-what are you saying?”

Instead of answering, he leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Let me show you.”

A wave of heat surged through her, pooling at her core. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, all she could do was nod weakly as Lando moved down her body, his hands trailing along her skin. He pushed her dress higher, exposing her thighs, and she tensed slightly, her nerves getting the better of her.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the wicked grin on his face. “Just let me take care of you.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched him position himself between her legs. His gaze locked with hers, and he held up the dildo, his expression daring her to stop him. With deliberate precision, he slid her panties to the side, exposing her to him fully. But she didn’t stop him. She couldn’t. The anticipation was too intense, the desire too overwhelming.

When the cool silicone touched her bare skin, she gasped, her hips arching instinctively. Lando’s free hand pressed against her hip, holding her steady as he teased her with the toy, tracing slow, deliberate circles around her most sensitive spot.

“You like that?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

All she could manage was a whimper, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. The sensation was maddening, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through her body. And then, just as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pressed the tip of the dildo against her entrance, slowly pushing it inside.

Her back arched off the bed, a moan escaping her lips as she felt herself stretching to accommodate it. Lando’s eyes never left her face, watching intently as he began to move it in and out, setting a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Fuck,” she breathed, her head falling back against the pillow. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before—the coldness of the toy contrasting with the heat of his touch, the way he seemed to know exactly how to move to drive her wild.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lando murmured, his voice thick with admiration. “Completely undone.”

She opened her eyes, locking gazes with him, and saw the raw desire in his expression. It sent a thrill through her, knowing that she was the one who had put that look on his face. Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down for a bruising kiss.

Their lips clashed together, messy and desperate, as he continued to work the dildo inside her. The dual sensations were almost too much—the deep, filling pressure of the toy combined with the soft, insistent movements of Lando’s tongue against hers.

“More,” she begged against his mouth, her voice trembling with need.

He obliged without hesitation, increasing the speed and intensity of his thrusts until she was writhing beneath him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Every nerve in her body was alight, every inch of her skin on fire. She could feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatened to snap.

“Lando,” she gasped, her voice breaking. “I-I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his tone firm yet tender. “Let go.”

And just like that, she shattered. Pleasure exploded through her, white-hot and all-consuming, as her body convulsed around the toy. Lando held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she rode out the waves of ecstasy.

When she finally came down, her chest heaving and her limbs boneless, Lando set the dildo aside and shifted to lay beside her. He brushed her damp hair from her face, his eyes soft with affection.

“See?” he said, his voice laced with smug satisfaction. “Told you I’d do better.”

She laughed breathlessly, her cheeks flushing again. “Okay, fine. You win.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in to capture her lips in another kiss. This one was slower, more tender, but no less passionate. When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with mischief once more.

“But don’t think for a second I’m done with you yet.”

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buckysgrace · 3 months ago

Text

Chemistry

Steve x Stepsister!reader

Kinktober 2024

You're home when Steve comes back after stumbling into something odd.

CW: Pseudocest, dubcon, sex pollen, unprotected sex

The movie had started to bore you some time ago, slowly turning into background noise as you flipped through your book. But even that couldn’t hold your interest.

The house was too big for one person, especially on this specific night. You were creeped out, or maybe that had been because of the scary movie you’d watched earlier. You had thought about snooping through the house again, but the last time you had found things of Steve’s that you hadn’t wanted to see.

Living with him was awkward, worse than you thought it would be. You’d known him your whole life, just as a stranger. And he still continued to treat you like one. Like you were somehow to blame for his father cheating and marrying your mother. People might’ve said he had changed but you knew the truth, he was still a dick. You had no control of it, but he still pointed the blame at you. And he had the audacity to say that you were the spoiled one.

You had hoped things would be different, as you were both in the same boat. No siblings, no cousins or anything. It had always just been you and your mom and you had hoped that Steve would relate, that maybe you could bond over it. Having a big brother seemed fun, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even want you as a friend.

You almost ignored him when he pushed the door open, easily telling by his body language that he didn’t want to be messed with anyways. But the sight of him made your book fall from your fingers, banging onto the floor as you quickly stood.

“What happened to you?” You gasped in horror, eyes widening as you walked around the couch, “Steve, you look terrible.” You told him seriously, just briefly taking in the Band-aids that decorated his face.

“Nothing.” He scoffed as he shook his head, his hair flopping around as he gripped the railing and began to head up the stairs. You walked behind him, deciding that you shouldn’t ignore him. Not when he looked like this.

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” You protested as you followed him, watching as he took two steps at a time, “Who did that?” You asked seriously, wondering if you should call the cops. Maybe he got mugged, but you had no idea by who. You had thought he was going to be with Nancy.

“No one.” He spoke in irritation, flicking on the switch to his bedroom as he tried to shut the door behind him. But you were faster. You pushed it open with little to no protest from him as he stumbled back, looking exasperated.

“Jesus,” You gasped as the light gave you a good look of his bruises and cuts, “Oh my God. Let me help.” You replied seriously, staring at the dried blood that lingered above his lips and below his nose. He had a nasty cut on his right forehead, along with his left cheek. His lips were swollen and cut up too.

“I don’t need your help.” He replied as he turned his gaze away from you, brown eyes twinkling underneath his bedroom lights. You frowned.

“You’re hurt,” You pointed out, “Just let me clean it up. It looks painful.” You added, gently moving your hand up to move his hair from his forehead. Looking at it closer did nothing to ease your worries. It looked worse close up.

“I’m fine.” He snapped in response, tilting his head back as you dropped your head to your side. You decided that he didn’t get to be stubborn, not right now. He could hate you later, but you weren’t going to leave him like this.

“Please,” You told him softly, “I’d feel bad if I left you alone like this.” You told him gently, heart hammering as he turned his attention back towards you. He observed you for a long moment, like he was debating his choices. Or just too tired to argue.

“Fine.” He grumbled as he sat on the edge of his bed, his jeans dirty along his knees and thighs. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what the hell he got himself into. But you didn’t press too much.

You gathered up the little things that were available, then worked diligently. You were surprised he was true to his word, sitting still as you dabbed the wash cloth along his face. It still looked bad, but not as terrible as what you had originally thought. Once the blood was cleared, it didn’t look as gnarly.

Your band-aids weren’t as colorful as the previous ones he had, but you hoped that they worked. A million questions raced through your mind, but you kept resting on one. Wondering if he was with Nancy. But you knew it was none of your business and it shouldn’t matter.

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you pulled your hand away, feeling like he looked a lot better than before. But his eyes were dilated, dark and intense as he observed you. Part of you wondered if you had accidentally hurt him.

“I think something’s wrong.” He replied roughly, flicking his tongue out to lick his bottom lip before he gulped roughly. You resisted the urge to touch him again, wondering if he was sick. Maybe he had a fever.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” You questioned him softly, “Steve?” You pried again, tilting your head patiently. He continued to stare, his chest rising and falling slowly before his gaze fell to your lips.

Something in the air shifted, the atmosphere between the two of you growing so tense and quiet you could hear the grandfather clock ticking downstairs. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating, if he could see how your pulse was hitting against your skin.

He leaned forward then, his long fingers falling against your neck as he tugged you closer. Your eyes widened, your lungs stalled as his lips fell against yours. Everything felt like it was falling in slow motion, the world around you stopping.

You expected him to be in pain, to be hurt from how sore and scratched his lips had been. But he didn’t act like that. His groans weren’t from pain, rather from want and need. You could feel it in the way he dragged his lips against yours, how the desperation and lust leaked from his touch.

You felt like putty in his hands as he pulled you closer, sealing the gap between your bodies as his lips moved against yours more frantically. You could feel his teeth gliding against yours, his tongue dipping against the curve of your mouth. It was desperate, carnal.

“Tell me to stop,” He said quickly as he pulled away, brown eyes filled with desperation, “Please.” He begged you as you still felt hazy, your mind mingling from the leftover feeling of his mouth against yours.

You stared at the look in his eyes, how wide and crazed his pupils looked. You wondered if you just had that effect on him, or if it was something else. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t want you to hurt.” You whispered softly, meaning your words fully. If this made him feel better, you’d willingly give yourself to him. He wasn’t related to you, nor were you really siblings. Your parents just happened to be married.

He inhaled deeply, his thumbs brushing across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your features again. He licked his bottom lip, groaning softly as he tilted his face towards yours again. You parted your lips, craving the feeling of him again.

You had seen him kiss before, when Nancy was over or they were sneaking off at school. But he never kissed her like this. He was always gentle with her, soft touches and tender movements.

The way he was holding you was rough, almost animalistic as he tugged you over his lap. His lips were harsh as he kissed you deeply again, his lips moving against yours tenderly but intensely. He held you like he was afraid you’d pull apart or disappear. You weren’t sure. But you didn’t want it to end.

His tongue fell against your teeth, licking away your spit as soft moans fell off of your tongue. His hands fell to your sides, then across your abdomen as he moved towards the buttons on your pajama shirt.

Your heart was beating so harshly in your chest that it hurt, but you ignored it as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders. Your insides burned with desire as your hands fell to his chest, rolling your palms over his shirt before he pushed you back again.

You huffed as you fell onto your back, just barely getting yourself balanced on your elbows before he was ripping your pajama bottoms off your legs. You had never seen him in this manner before, so focused and intense.

“You’re so pretty,” He breathed out, expression filled with lust as his eyes scanned your body. You bit your bottom lip, feeling shy underneath his gaze, “God, honey. You look incredible.” He praised you, palms falling to your hips as he pulled you closer.

“Steve,” You started softly, feeling like you were in a trance. Or a dream, “Are you sure you want this?” You asked him seriously, feeling like there would be no going back after this. You weren’t sure you could stop after just having a taste of him.

“Never wanted something so badly before,” He groaned as he began to grind his hips down against your thighs, “Please. Just wanna feel you. Just a bit.” He looked far too pretty as he rolled his head back, his lips parting as little moans fell from his tongue.

“Okay,” You nodded your head in agreement, “S’fine.” You agreed with him, figuring it wouldn’t be too bad if you just touched a little bit. There was nothing wrong with that.

His moans sounded heavenly as he pulled back briefly, just enough to shove his jeans and briefs down to his knees. Your eyes fell to the way his cock plopped out against your leg. His size was a bit intimidating, long and hard. His tip was a soft pink, precum leaking onto your skin as he shifted even closer.

“Hurts,” He groaned as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a little stroke, “Feels better now.” He panted as he nodded his head, reassuring himself as he thrust his hips forward. You felt like you were in awe, your mind fuzzy and warm.

“You seem like you’re enjoying yourself.” You teased as you leaned forward, gliding your fingers over his slick cock. You gaped at the feeling, rolling your hands up and down the length of his cock. You liked how warm and soft his skin felt, how hard he felt against your fingers.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” He replied as he snapped his hips forward in bliss. He grunted as you felt a small smile forming on your lips, liking how desperate he was for your touch.

“Am I?” You teased as you licked your bottom lip, enjoying the way he was grinding roughly against your hand. Pleasure was etched across his expression, telling you that he was enjoying it all too much.

“Yeah,” He sighed as he gripped your knees, digging his fingertips into your flesh, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He apologized, voice breaking up as you wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock. You moved both of your hands together, spreading his slick from his tip to his base.

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked him seriously, your clit throbbing as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You almost feared the answer, not wanting him to really say no. You wanted to feel him, to make him feel good.

“No,” He said quickly, desperation forming between his eyebrows, “Please don’t stop. You feel so good around my cock. Please, please.” He cried out, whining as he continued to thrust his hips forward. You licked your bottom lip, admiring the way his cock moved against your fists.

“Do you like that?” You asked him softly, fluttering your eyelashes as he reached his hands forward and gripped your tits. You moaned at the sensation, gasping as he brought his fingers down against your hardened nipples.

He pinched them softly, earning a little moan from you as they hardened in the air. He reached forward, hovering over you before he spit onto your skin. You widened your eyes, feeling like you should be disgusted as he smeared it across your boobs. You weren’t. The sensation traveled down your body, traveling straight to your neglected clit.

He groaned as he rutted his hips forward rougher, his balls slapping against your hand from how roughly he was moving. You felt warm inside as you watched him, wondering what he would feel like inside of you.

“Let me fuck you,” He begged a second later, groaning as he rolled your nipples around between his thumb and fingertip. You continued to stroke him, ignoring the way your wrists were beginning to ache, “Please. I’ll treat you so well, little sister.”

Fuck.

“Okay,” You whispered, not really needing to think about it. You wanted him just as badly. You wondered if you bore the same crazed look in your eye, if lust was written across your expression in the same way, “I want you, Stevie.” You breathed out, glad that your parents would be gone for the next few days. It gave you less to worry about.

Your heart thumped roughly in your chest as he pushed your knees apart and dragged the tip of his cock across your slick folds. You whimpered softly as his leaking tip pressed against your swollen clit, leaving you rolling your hips forward slowly.

“Should we-,” You gulped, trying to collect your thoughts, “Should you get a condom?” You asked him seriously, thinking that it would be best if you were safe.

“I wanna feel you,” He exhaled, eyes dark and pupils shot, “Please. I want to feel you so badly. I’ll be careful. I promise. I wanna feel your cunt so badly.” He begged as he continued to grind against your slick pussy.

“Oh God,” You moaned at the feeling of his heavy dick against you, nodding your head urgently as you bit down on your bottom lip, “Okay. I wanna feel you too.” You admitted, gasping as he slid his tip against your leaking hole.

He moaned at the feeling, pink lips parting in bliss as he bullied his thick cock inside of your thick walls. You whimpered at the sensation of him stretching you out, his cock pressing deeper inside of you as you took a deep breath.

Steve’s hands fell to your fleshy hips, gripping you tightly as he moaned wantonly. His sounds filled the room, desperate and loud as he bottomed out inside of you. His balls were pressed against your slick skin, the tip of his dick nestled against the deepest parts of you. You had never felt so filled before, so stretched and stuffed.

“Steve,” You exhaled roughly, whimpering as you reached down to grip his wrists. This was wrong. So wrong, “Feels good.” You moaned instead, eyes drifting up towards his.

His cock was heavy inside of your cunt, buried snugly inside of you. He fit inside of you so perfectly, like he was a missing puzzle piece. You fought the urge to reach down and touch your clit, feeling how harshly it was buzzing.

He flicked his tongue out across his bottom lip, his smugness hidden behind the lustful expression as he leaned over you. Your knees were pushed to your chest, squishing you as his lips found yours again.

He licked your lips before he kissed you, his lips pressing roughly against yours as he began to slowly rut his hips into you. Your mouth vibrated from his groans, his nose brushing against your skin as he pressed his weight on top of yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He apologized as his lips continued to glide against yours, whining as he began to rock himself into you. His thrusts were rough, rapid as his fingers dug harder into your flesh. He was gripping you so tightly that you were sure he was going to leave your skin sore, “Just feels so good.”

Your body slid against the floor as he dragged you along the curve of his cock, your cunt leaking around his girth as he buried himself deeply with each movement. Your moans mingled with his as your nails dug into his wrist, clawing at him blissfully.

“S’okay, s’okay,” You promised, eyes rolling in the back of your head as his tip pressed against your bundle of nerves with each thrust, “Oh my God!” You whined this time, tone turning pitchy as your knees burned from the feeling of his weight over yours.

Steve’s groans grew louder, whinier as he continued to rapidly thrust his hips forward. You could tell by the desperate look on his features that he was trying to hold himself back, trying not to lose control. But you wanted him to. It all felt so good.

“I bet you did that on purpose,” He groaned as he buried himself deeper into you, “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He accused, moans rolling off of his tongue as his balls smacked against your skin.

“Feels good, so good,” You confirmed as you stuck your nails deeper into his skin, pleasure shooting up your spine at the way he was throbbing inside of your slick walls, “Don’t stop.” You demanded, not wanting the pleasure to stop.

He pressed his lips together, a trail of blood falling from where his scratch had ripped open again. You leaned forward, sticking your tongue out to lick it away. He groaned as he held onto you tighter, his cock heavy against your walls as he stuck his tongue out to meet yours.

Drool fell from his mouth and onto yours as your tongues brushed against his. You curled your tongue around his, moaning at the sensation. You felt your clit throbbing, your walls aching as your climax grew near.

“Let me cum inside you,” He whined as he rutted himself harder against you, like he was trying to get closer, “Please. I’ll make you feel so good.” He nodded his head, eyes meeting yours in desperation.

“Wanna feel you cum inside,” You nodded your head, moaning in agreement at the thought of his spunk spilling from your walls, “Please, please.” You moved your hands up his arms, gripping at his clothes to tug him even closer.

His thrusts became uneven, deeper and sporadic as he rutted his hips against yours in desperation. He was whimpering, his sounds filling the room like a pretty melody as you knitted your fingers through his shirt.

“Fuck, fuck!” He cursed, burying his cock deep inside of you. He gripped you tightly, crying out as his dick twitched inside of you, “Oh my God.” He huffed, whimpering as he continued to grind himself into you.

You moaned at the feeling, blinking your eyes slowly as a hazy feeling settled over you. You gasped as you rolled your hands across his shoulders, admiring the pretty look that filled his expression. He looked so handsome, so ethereal.

You still felt like you were floating as he pulled his weight off of you, letting your legs relax for a moment as he slid his softening dick from your slick hole. You gulped, heart hammering as you feared he’d leave you like this. Pressed to the floor with his cum sliding from your cunt.

He dipped down instead, pressing your legs far apart as he buried his face between your legs. You cried out from the sensation as he kissed at your pussy, sucking on your folds and wrapping his lips around your clit. It was rough and soft at the same time, the sensation spreading up your spine.

His tongue was hot against your clit, lapping at the sensitive bud. You cried out as you dug your fingers through his hair, whining as your hips moved on their own. Your body felt like you were burning, on fire as he spread your legs further apart.

He buried his face deeper between your thighs, his tongue drifting down your folds and to your leaking hole. He curled his tongue inside of your cunt, lapping at your walls and cleaning away his spunk. Everything inside of you was pulsing, twisting and churning in pleasure.

“Steve, Steve -,” You chanted, whimpering as your head fell back against the floor. Your hips rutted up against his face, his nose pressing against your clit as his tongue lapped at your spongy walls, “Fuck!” You cursed, shaking as you came with a cry.

You felt like you were floating, your body trembling as your pussy clamped down around his tongue. He kept a tight grip on your hips, keeping you from pulling away as you spasmed from underneath him.

“Oh God,” You cried out, fingers knitting tightly through his hair as your clit throbbed from the overstimulation, “Feels so good.” You breathed out deeply, toes curling as he took one last long lap across your cunt.

“Tastes so good,” He groaned, wet lips sliding against your inner thighs, “You’ve got such a good cunt, baby sister.” He sighed as he dipped back down, taking another broad lick across your clit.

“Can’t,” You squeaked out, feeling like you might melt into the floorboards if he continued, “Too much.” You breathed out, gasping as you tugged his hair away from your sensitive bud.

He looked up at you, his eyes still filled with lust but his pupils were no longer as big. You pressed your fingers tightly together, looking at the mess of cum across his lips and chin. You crooned, wondering what he tasted like.

He collapsed next to you a second later, his chest rising and falling in the same rhythm as your own. You didn’t touch him, didn’t turn your head to look at him as the shame settled over you. You didn’t quite regret it, but you knew it had been wrong. And you were fearful over his thoughts on this. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

You both laid there on the floor, the room filled with the sound of the grandfather clock from below as you simmered in your shared mistake. There was no going back.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington x reader smut #Steve Harrington pseudocest #Steve Harrington x stepsister!reader #Steve Harrington x stepsis!reader #Kinktober #Kinktober 2024

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sleepw-me · 1 year ago

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BF HEADCANONS HQ ࣪ ִֶָ☾.── .✦

Haikyuu version SFW

t.kageyama⸝⸝ ♡ Definitely winter is his favorite season, when you are his girlfriend he will definitely want to do some winter activities with you, such as walking around the city with a nice composition of Christmas lights. building a snowman in his yard. Throwing snowballs at each other and taking you to a nice cafe for hot chocolate.

k.tsukishima⸝⸝ ♡ We all know by now that Tsuki likes music, I'm sure he would share his headphones with you so you could listen to music together at school. When you're at his place, you just spend time with him, while he's doing his homework and you're hugging his dinosaur-shaped stuffed animal, and there's some music playing in the background. He made a playlist for you, but at first he was embarrassed to show it to you, there were songs he associated with you.

t.yamaguchi⸝⸝ ♡ During the lesson, when he gets tired of listening to the teacher, he will start drawing cute hearts and flowers in the corners of your notebook with colored pens, and if you let him, he will draw a whole meadow on your hand. You can give him your shoes to decorate them nicely with colorful flowers and drawings.

d.sawamura⸝⸝ ♡ He probably didn't know what princess treatment was before, he was just well brought up and everything he does comes easily to him, he thinks that's how you should treat your ladies. When your shoe is untied, he kneels in front of you and ties it for you. He carries your shopping, your handbags too, but not in his hand, as if he was ashamed that someone would see him with your women's handbag, he literally throws it on his shoulder and walks with it just like you would.

a.azumane⸝�� ♡ He has long hair, so he always has a rubber band on his wrist, so if you need it, he will lend it to you and even tie your hair for you.

s.hinata⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet little orange bun remembers the smallest details about you, even if sometimes you feel like he's not listening anymore and you stop talking, he immediately encourages you to continue. He remembers every detail, your favorite number, your favorite and hated color, the name of your first cat and he will even remember the names of your entire family if you mentioned them.

k.kozume⸝⸝ ♡ He found the perfect person to cuddle with, it's you!. Expect that if you have a large sweatshirt, he will stick his head under it and play games. When he plays on the computer, he will invite you to sit on his lap and either watch him play or teach you how to play one of his favorite games, it's funny when she controls the mouse and you control the keyboard, you will definitely hear him chuckle when something goes wrong he will succeed but he is very patient.

t.kuroo⸝⸝ ♡ Sometimes you meet at his place to study for chemistry, then he wears his black glasses that make him look so good. If you don't understand a topic, he will teach you and if you answer correctly, he will give you a juicy kiss. If you need a break, he will bring you something sweet.

r.suna⸝⸝ ♡ He will definitely take a lot of photos of you to keep the memories. You will be his private model, he definitely has one of your photos where you are drooling on the pillow while still sleeping on his wallpaper. On his phone you will find the stupidest photos, for example your 0.5x photo. Until the prettiest ones, the ones where you smile so beautifully at him.

a.miya⸝⸝ ♡ Listen, I imagine Atsumu calling you very early in the morning to go to the beach with him. He will definitely take a few photos of you in your swimsuit, but most of all you will have a great time together, sunbathing or swimming, he will pretend to be a shark that wants to eat you so that you run away from him. When the sun is not so bright anymore, he will play beach volleyball with you, laughing when something goes wrong, but then he will teach you, he promise.

o.miya⸝⸝ ♡ He will invite you to his kitchen so that you can bake or cook something together and have great fun. So what if there's flour everywhere or something spilled on the floor, you'll clean it up later and now Osamu is busy kissing you while you wait for the dough to be made.

k.bokuto⸝⸝ ♡ If you stayed overnight at his place, don't think you'll sleep late if you wake up easily, because he'll start doing his morning stretches, doing push-ups, and encouraging you to sit on his back. He will sometimes ask you to join him, but you have barely woken up, but if you join him and stretch together, you must know that he will slow down on purpose so that you can keep up, he will be very happy.

a.akaashi⸝⸝ ♡ This sweet boy will read books to you but he will also be more than willing to listen to your voice if you read to him. He likes it when you lie on his lap and play a game while he rests the book on your head and you sit in comfortable silence.

k.sakusa⸝⸝ ♡ It's no surprise that this guy takes great care of himself and is glad that you do too. His favorite activity is when you spend the night at his place and do your skin care together, he likes it when you put a mask on his face and massage him gently.

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kg-day · 6 months ago

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What annoys me the most about the "kataang has no chemistry" argument is that they do have chemistry, but people choose to ignore it because it's not the chemistry they're used to seeing/expecting. There isn't going to be an underlying tension or yearning that speaks to a more physical attraction to one another, these are kids for Christ's sake. Their chemistry is soft and sweet and romantic and - most importantly - age-appropriate. Not only that, but I think what a lot of people who hate on them like to forget is that their romantic relationship has always been secondary to their friendship. Katara and Aang kissing at the end of the show signifies the start of their romantic journey, not the end of it. Yes, they obviously have feelings for one another throughout the show (and I am saying obviously because it was obvious that Katara had feelings for Aang considering he was literally the only person who received that kind of treatment from Katara, like literally nobody else was treated by Katara the way that Aang was, nobody) but their romance doesn't truly start until they kiss on the balcony. Everything before that is the basis for which their relationship bloomed, but more than anything - more than the kisses on the cheek, the hugs, the blushing - their deep trust, respect, and admiration for one another is what brought them to that balcony. If you spend too much time focusing on whether or not Katara and Aang seemed like they were attracted to one another (which there is also ample evidence of, people just once again ignore it and write it off as "childish crushes" because it's not over the top dramatic mature romance) you ignore the fact that their chemistry lies in how they work seamlessly as a team, how they support one another, and how they share a deep, unspoken connection as two genocide survivors - and children - stuck in a war. Katara and Aang have chemistry, but they're also best friends, and that has always been the most important part of their relationship.

#kataang #katara x aang #I will die a firm believer that if Aang looked more like Zuko #people would actually see the chemistry between him and katara #they're so baby #friends to lovers you have always been my favorite trope

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star-sim · 1 year ago

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exe.enhaboy_stopped_working.exe ☆ ot7

☆ non-idol! ot7 enhypen x fem! reader ☆ summary: how to fluster your enhypen boy beyond words! ☆ genre: FLUFFFFF, can be interpreted as established relationship or pining stage lolz ☆ warning(s)? made one (1) chemistry reference, mentions of drinking and throwing up lol ☆ word count: 3k words total ☆ today is lunar new year, year of the dragon. happy new years to anyone that celebrates it, may the spring treat us well! take this as a new year charm.

heeseung ☆ ask him for help

"can you open this for me, hee?"

on it.

"heeseung, can you carry this for me?"

already taking it out of your hands.

"heeseung, how do you do this problem?"

he appreciated that you think he's smart enough to help you with your homework, but truth be told, if you were struggling in this subject, then he'd be drowning.

there's something about the way you look up at him with wide, star-filled eyes, smiling along with your words as you asked him for help.

outwardly, heeseung would shoot you a smirk, maybe even tease you with a, "oh, you need me so bad, don't you?"

but inwardly, he'd be freaking out.

you, the most perfect person in the world, needed his help.

heeseung had always been the baby of his family, and even when he was with his friends, where he was the eldest, he found himself slipping back into the role of being taken care of.

but when it came to you, heeseung was more than eager to be the strong, dependable one.

and you asking him for help meant that you you saw him as reliable, that you could depend on him. it made his chest fill with pride.

but it also made heeseung feel so shy.

did you think of him that highly? he wondered what you thought of him when you asked him to open jars for you. did that mean that you wanted to marry him? you wanted a man that could take care of you right? did that mean that you wanted him?

"hee?" your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

shit. by the way your bright eyes gazed at him, a small smile playing on your lips, heeseung knew that you could see right through his smug facade. if not the red color of his face, or the way his hands gripped the hem of his shirt like his life depended on it, it was probably the way his eyes widened a fraction in sheer panic as he realized that you were chuckling at his dazed expression.

"y-yes?" perfect save.

you laughed, handing him one of your hard-to-open chip bags. "can you open this for me?"

"of course."

honestly, that hard-to-open chip bag was kind of hard to open, but heeseung would never admit that to you.

"thank you, heeseung," you gave him another one of your bright smiles, as he handed the bag of chips back to you, popping one of the crisps into your mouth. "love you."

then, you left.

you were so pretty.

wow.

wait...

LOVE?!

jay ☆ pull him by the collar

honestly, jay knew that he was being a bit of an asshole right now. he was tired, and so were you, but he tuned you out as you talked to him.

as the two of you stood under the streetlight, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn on, jay's feet ached. after spending an entire day out with you, his good friend, he was exhausted. even if he liked you a lot (a lot), even he couldn't ignore his fatigue.

"jay, are you even listening to me?"

"hm?" did you just say something? he had no idea, getting lost in the blankness of his tired mind.

"i asked you what you..." jay tuned out the rest of your sentence.

when he only nodded blankly, his eyes very clearly unfocused, you let out a huff.

you grabbed the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking him down so that he was eye-level with you.

"i said," you snapped into his ear, your tone annoyed, "what do you want to eat later?"

oh god.

that forced jay awake immediately. if someone dumped a bucket of iced water on him, he still wouldn't be as alert as he was now.

it was a combination of things: the way you gripped his shirt so harshly, the force at which you jerked him down, the way you looked irritated at him, how close your face was to his now... all of it.

jay heard your question, loud and clear, yet he couldn't register it properly, not when you were so close to him. his eyes were wide like saucers, a sudden wave of embarrassment washing over him. his lips parted, in an attempt to give you an answer, only to let out choked out stutters.

"i— w-well..."

you let out an annoyed sigh. you let go of his shirt, pushing his chest away, as you began walking the intersection, as the stoplight changed.

"whatever," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

jay stood there stunned, under the streetlight as other pedestrians passed by him, watching your retreating back.

he'd always known that he was attracted to you. but this may have been the turning point.

you were rough with him, aggressive even. it made his heart plummet to his stomach.

when he realized that you were a good distance away from him already, jay snapped back into reality. his feet picked up, running after you.

"w-wait!"

jake ☆ run your nails along him + say he's strong

it was a friendly gesture. because you and jake were friends. and you saw him exclusively as a friend. was what jake told himself.

so why did he feel this way?

the two of you were just hanging out, talking about whatever came to mind, when jake randomly brought up the topic of working out. sure, maybe he was glazing himself a little bit when he was talking about how much he had bulked up in the past few months, especially because he wanted (and needed) to look cool in front of you. he didn't know what he was expecting, but you obviously got curious, asking him with owlish eyes if you could feel his arms.

of course he let you.

you started off with his biceps, feeling the hard muscle under your palms. you gave it a squeeze, giggling when jake flexed his bicep for you. in fact, you now got a good look of his entire arm now.

it was veiny and toned, the type where whenever he did anything you could see the muscle bulging from under his skin. you bit the inside of your lip, before you ran your nails along the length of his arm.

"you're so strong, jakey," you mused into his ear, before your hands trailed up to feel his strong shoulders.

jake froze.

his chest swelled with pride, attempting to bite back a proud grin on his face to stay humble about it, but deep down, he knew that he hoped that you'd say that.

but the worst part was the way your hands had felt on him. when you ran your nails against his arm, a warm chill struck through his entire body. it was such a strange feeling. but he liked it. he wanted more.

feeling the tension in his shoulders, you ran your nails on the back of his neck, fingers brushing up against the muscles on his back.

"relax," you said, and he could feel your breath on his skin.

were you doing it on purpose?

jake felt like he was about to evaporate. you were so close to him, and even if your light touches were friendly, it sure didn't feel like it.

it's safe to say that the moment that you put your fingers in his hair, running your nails against his scalp, jake's soul left his body.

sunghoon ☆ show some love to his moles

sunghoon wasn't always a fan of his moles as a kid. kids liked to tease him, pinching his skin in an 'attempt' to take the 'speck of dirt' that was his mole off his face. and when he was young, his mom took him to some korean fortune teller, and the moment the lady looked at his face, she pointed out the mole below his temple. "bad luck," she said. even in high school, his classmates would point to the dark mole under his eye and call it Avogadro's Number, because it was a mole. ha ha, funny enough, but sunghoon would only frown.

"did you know that moles are where you were kissed the most in your past life?" you asked him one day. his head was lying on your lap, something that sunghoon had to fight himself to not freak out over.

it was a quiet afternoon, just the two of you relishing in each other's presence.

"who told you that?" sunghoon asked, his hands scrunching up the hem of his shirt. it made him a little nervous, the mention of his moles. what if you didn't like them? "what evidence do you have for that?"

"have some fun in your life, sunghoon." you brought your finger up to poke the mole under his eye. then, you dragged your finger across his face, to trace the two moles below his temples, then to the mole on the side of his nose. sunghoon let his eyes fall shut under your gentle finger.

"i love your moles, hoon," you finally said after a moment of silence.

sunghoon choked on his spit, jerking up to cough up a lung.

love? his moles? absolutely no way!

"are you okay...?!" you clutched his arm as he choked on his own coughs.

when he was finally done coughing up a storm, sunghoon whipped his head over to you, his expression painted with sheer horror.

"why do you like my moles?!" he asked, his tone laced with what could only be called offense (even if he wasn't actually offended).

you shrugged. "they're cute."

"cute?!"

sunghoon's world was crashing upon his shoulders. in a good way.

you didn't hate his moles? and you thought they were... cute?!

his cheeks flared with heat, while his chest filled with warmth. he swallowed down hard, before opening his mouth to speak, yet he couldn't form any coherent words. what he spent his whole life hating was something that you loved.

his hands were getting clammy.

"why are you so surprised?" you nudged him with your foot. "doesn't everyone love your moles?"

"not really," sunghoon frowned.

you stared at his face, assessing him, before you clicked your tongue. you grabbed his head, gently pulling him back onto your lap.

"they're clearly blind then," you muttered. "your moles make you so cute."

you continued to trace his face, connecting his moles together like they were constellations, completely oblivious to the fact that sunghoon was both completely fried in the head, yet still somehow consciously planning your marriage.

sunoo ☆ take care of him

you and sunoo were just hanging out in your apartment with a few friends, when someone suggested drinking.

and that's how sunoo found himself sitting in a circle, with five or six empty soju bottles in the middle, with the rest of his friends passed out. you were in the kitchen, grabbing a recycling bag for said empty soju bottles.

sunoo was the only one who didn't drink. not even a drop. even when they reassured him that nothing bad would happen, sunoo's resolve stayed. because he had one reason, and one reason only: he said, looked, and did dumb things when he was drunk. even if he had a relatively high alcohol tolerance, sunoo would rather die than run the risk of embarrassing himself in front of you.

you, on the other hand, had a few shots along with your friends, but remained sober.

you came back to where sunoo was, bag in hand. you muttered a small, "hi," at him, before you began collecting the green, glass bottles. sunoo wanted to say hi back, but his voice came out in an embarrassingly small whisper.

"why didn't you drink?" you asked him suddenly, quickly adding when his face pinched, "sorry, i just feel like i've never seen you drink before."

yup, and there was a reason for that.

"it's okay." sunoo only nodded understandingly, hiding his excitement to finally have alone time with you (as if he wouldn't die on the stop right now). "i do dumb things when i'm drunk, y'know?"

you blinked owlishly. "like what?"

sunoo felt awkward. it wasn't like he never spoke to you at all, but just that he felt so intimidated by you and your beauty. how could he not?

though, he couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that seeped into his chest as you brushed stray hairs out of jake's sleeping face, grabbing a pillow off your couch so that heeseung could sleep peacefully on your living room floor.

"i dunno," sunoo shrugged, his eyes fixed on the way you took care of your friends. "last time i drank..."

he trailed off, causing you to turn your head toward him, watching him for an answer.

"... i threw up all over the kitchen," sunoo grimaced at the memory. "it was nasty."

you smiled. "no shame in that. if you threw up all over my kitchen, i would have cleaned it up happily."

sunoo's ears burned. he loved that about you, how you were so willing to help people.

"my roommate wasn't so happy," sunoo frowned. "jungwon yelled at me, even when i got sick the morning after."

you crawled over to him, putting the bottles aside. "well, that's jungwon. i wouldn't mind."

you poked him, nudging him with your foot. "i'd have no problem taking care of you, sunoo."

you met his gaze, your hands reaching out for his, your lips spreading out into a smile.

sunoo flushed.

you? take care of him?

that would be a dream.

he could imagine you ruffling his hair as you tucked him into bed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you told him good night. the thought of you petting his head, letting him bury his face into your chest after a bad day made him feel dizzy. the idea of being enveloped by your warmth and perfume had him trifling, fighting for his life as more and more thoughts of your tenderness attacked him.

"r-really?"

you squeezed his hand, you other hand coming up to brush his bangs out of his face. "of course."

sunoo was going to die!

jungwon ☆ eye-contact

jungwon knew that you had a bad habit of looking at people's hair or noses instead of their eyes when you talked, he knew it better than anyone because you'd confided in him about how shy some people made you.

he was happy that you trusted him enough to tell him about your troubles.

and he should now be happy that you felt comfortable enough with him to stare straight into his eyes when you talked to him. and he was. but now he felt like he was going to melt.

were eyes always this beautiful? how come he never noticed the way they shined so brightly, the way they creased into thin crescents as you smiled?

"jungwon, are you okay?" you asked, cocking your head as your eyes innocently blinked at him.

jungwon cleared his throat, sucking in a sharp breath. "y-yeah, i am."

you blinked again, your wide eyes filled with a little concern as they stared straight into his. "are you sure?"

"of course..."

and it was then that jungwon was hit with the realization that he was probably one of, if not the only, the people that got to see your eyes like this.

"w-wait, look at me!" he blurted, and your eyes flickered back to his. jungwon winced at his sudden outburst.

you smiled. "what's up?"

"i.. uhm.." jungwon didn't know what to say. he just needed an excuse to look at your eyes. "you.. uh.. you—"

"what about me?"

"you look really pretty today!"

you blinked slowly. in that moment, jungwon saw the way your eyes darted around his face, running away from his eyes as you processed his words.

you didn't meet his gaze when you said, "th-thanks."

no! did he make you uncomfortable? "wait—!"

as you've told him before, when you got shy or nervous, you avoided making eye-contact.

(if he used his critical thinking a little better, jungwon would realize that he, indeed, just made you feel shy. not because he was making you uncomfortable, because he just called you pretty, for goodness's sake!)

riki ☆ be mean to him

riki thought of himself as a fighter, the type of person that never backed down in the face of a challenge. sometimes, he did the exact opposite— he liked to fan the flames, letting the blaze that was his friends' anger rise so high that it burned everything around him, all for a little chuckle and a heightened sense of pride.

but as the two of you sat in class, you (who sat in front of him) sent him a glare, your gaze hardening as it met his, followed by your lips parting to mutter a soft, but venomous, "shut the fuck up," riki's breath caught in his throat.

it was weird and uncomfortable, the way that riki's face began to prickle with heat. his ears burned into a red color. he couldn't bring himself to look you in the eye after that.

at first, he thought he was just embarrassed, embarrassed that someone like you had to reprimand him.

but the more that that scene replayed in his head— the sight of you angry and annoyed at him, as poison laced your sharp tongue— the more he felt queasy inside. you looked so... attractive when you were angry at him. he liked the way your eyes were filled with so much displeasure and dislike for him. it made him feel so small, but it made riki's chest pound.

he squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on his lip to suppress a frustrated groan. alas, he couldn't keep it in, as riki buried his head in his hands, fighting off the warmth that was bleeding onto his face, letting out a loud, exasperated sigh.

your head whipped around to him. your brows crashed together, annoyed and irritated by his loudness.

"i'm serious, riki," you spat, kicking him with your shoe. "shut up."

riki flushed.

all he could do was mutter a soft (and slightly-pathetic), "s-sorry."

1K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 4 months ago

Text

bed chem — nanami kento.

“Are you free next week?” Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical. You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au;

WARNING/S: romance, love at first sight, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, nanami kento is that MAN, reader really wants to have bed chem with nanami <3;

WORD COUNT: 4.8k words.

NOTE: i keep thinking about how much i wrote and how it could be a treat for the entire october in terms of kinktober but i think i realize i'll be too busy starting the 11th, so i won't be showing up to anything, so i'll just be doing all this stuff i can now and posting some in between so i can at least have something for yall, you know? also im realizing my actor sukuna series and this is a minor part of it. its such a good story!!! if you wanna read it the latest chapter is here chapter four; anyway, i hope you can feel my love through out. i'll be seeing you soon enough, though. wish me luck on my upcoming exams <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kayu's playlist — side 1500;

YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO FORGET THIS NIGHT. And you were happy about that thought. You remember the day you met him vividly, as if it happened just yesterday. You were dressed in a sheer, ethereal gown, moving gracefully through the grand corridors of a buzzing fashion venue.

Models, designers, and staff rushed around in a whirlwind of fabric and creativity, preparing for the show. You were part of that beautiful chaos, your mind focused on the evening ahead. But then you saw him.

Nanami Kento, the famous actor.

He stood out, calm amidst the frenzy, wearing a sharp white jacket that contrasted with the hectic energy around you. His sandy-blonde hair fell neatly into place, and his tall, sturdy frame exuded a sense of quiet confidence.

You exchanged brief pleasantries—just a moment's conversation—but the connection felt palpable. His presence lingered in your thoughts long after. You can’t help it. He was just that enigmatic. He was just that awe-strikingly beautiful.

Later that evening, a friend of his reached out, suggesting the two of you connect. You think that maybe they think you guys are going to be good for each other. Or maybe you could just be friends.

Who knows? You hadn’t expected it, but before you knew it, there was a message on your phone from Nanami Kento himself. And just like that, you found yourself scrolling through his texts, your pulse quickening with every new notification.

Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? The thought danced in your mind, replaying your brief interaction. You wondered if you were imagining it, but something told you this connection was real.

He wasn’t just like any other guy you’ve dated. A lot about him was already an improvement, but you were sure, one hundred percent — he would be everything. Everything that you could ever want in a man.

Maybe it was all in your head, just a fleeting crush, but you couldn't shake the feeling. You have never felt like this before. You began to picture more than just idle conversation. You bet the two of you would have incredible chemistry—on all levels.

Your thoughts spiraled into fantasies, growing more vivid with every passing moment. You imagined him picking you up with ease, spinning you around like you were weightless, his strong hands firm but gentle. It just made sense, didn’t it? The way he looked at you, the way his words were always so calm and collected, but with an underlying intensity that pulled you in.

There was chemistry—bed chem, as you started to call it in your mind.

You saw it all clearly: the way he’d pull you close, lower you down, his voice teasing but sweet. And his hands—how they might trail over your skin with a deliberate touch, a mix of sweet and sinful. You were obsessed with the idea. He didn’t even need to say anything when you saw him, the look in his eyes was enough to spark that connection.

You imagined asking him, casually, Are you free next week? You were certain that if you met again, everything would fall into place. You’d fit together seamlessly, like two puzzle pieces made for each other. Your fantasies painted the perfect picture: soft sheets, the thermostat set just right—maybe at 69—and the two of you in sync, moving as if you’d done this a thousand times before.

You saw him later that night at the after-party, his blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat. Nanami wasn’t just an actor anymore, not just a face from the big screen or a billboard. He was real, standing right there, closing the distance between you.

As he approached, you couldn’t help but think, I bet we’d have really good bed chem.

The thought made you smile to yourself, a secret desire that hung in the air, just waiting to be fulfilled.

He moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, the music and chatter dissolving as your attention zeroed in on him. You could feel the air between you thicken, an unspoken pull drawing you together. Nanami’s eyes never left yours, his intense gaze making it clear he hadn’t forgotten your brief encounter earlier in the day.

He stopped just a few steps away, close enough that you could see the faintest hints of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. You exchanged a polite smile, but beneath the surface, the tension was palpable. It was as if every look, every subtle movement, was laden with meaning. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” he said, his voice smooth, with that same deep cadence you had replayed in your mind over and over again.

You offered a light laugh, something casual, but even the smallest exchange felt charged. “Fashion world is small, I guess.”

The conversation was polite, yet every word held weight. You both knew there was something more bubbling beneath the surface. And that’s when it happened—he leaned in, just a fraction, and his voice lowered, the faintest hint of something playful lacing his words.

“Are you free next week?”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by how effortlessly he turned the tables on you. It was exactly what you had been thinking, the question that had echoed in your head. He had beaten you to it, but his tone told you this was no ordinary invitation. There was more behind that simple question—an invitation to something deeper, something physical.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling to yourself, already knowing your answer. “I think I could be.”

Nanami Kento chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming. It was a small moment, but it felt like a confirmation—like a prophecy about to be fulfilled. You both lingered in the silence for a beat longer than necessary, the electric tension between you undeniable.

As the night went on, the party flowed around you, but your attention never strayed far from him. Each glance, each word exchanged, only built on the anticipation. By the time you said your goodbyes, you were already planning out the next week in your head.

When you finally parted ways, your phone buzzed almost immediately. A message from him.

Next week, then.

You smiled, already thinking about how things would unfold. In your mind, you could see it—how he’d pick you up like it was nothing, his strength and control so effortless. You pictured the way he’d pull you close, then spin you around, always so deliberate but never rushed. The chemistry was undeniable, it was practically written in the stars. Bed chem, the kind that left no room for hesitation.

And when that moment finally came, you knew everything would fall into place, just like you imagined. The perfect rhythm, the thermostat set just right, every movement in sync.

It was only a matter of time.

The days that followed felt like a slow burn, each one stretching out as you found yourself replaying that moment over and over. The anticipation built, winding tighter with every passing thought of him. Every time your phone buzzed, your pulse quickened, hoping it was another message from Nanami, and more often than not, it was.

His texts were short, simple—never too much, but just enough to keep the flame alive. He didn’t need to say much for you to read between the lines. Each message held a certain calm confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing, just like when you saw him at the party.

Each message was a spark, feeding the fire of your fantasies. Your mind wandered constantly, imagining every possible way the encounter could unfold. You knew it wouldn’t be rushed—it was never rushed with someone like Nanami. Everything about him was measured, thoughtful, intentional.

How’s your week?

Thinking about that conversation.

Looking forward to next week.

By the time the day finally arrived, you could feel your nerves dancing in your chest, excitement pulsing beneath your skin. You chose your outfit carefully, something that balanced elegance with subtle suggestion. You wanted to look as effortlessly composed as you imagined he would be.

When you arrived at the restaurant where he had suggested you meet, the atmosphere was warm, dimly lit, and intimate. Nanami was already there, sitting at a table near the window. He looked up as soon as you walked in, his eyes locking onto yours immediately, that same intensity you remembered from the party.

As you approached, he stood to greet you, his hand resting lightly on your back as he leaned in for a polite kiss on the cheek. His touch was brief but electric, and you felt the heat rise in your chest.

“You look stunning, darling.” he said, his voice deep and smooth, just as you remembered.

You smiled, brushing off the compliment with a modest shrug, but the way his eyes lingered told you he wasn’t just being polite. The dinner itself was a dance, every word exchanged adding to the tension that simmered between you. You talked about the show, your careers, little moments from your lives—but beneath it all, there was the unspoken promise of what was to come.

It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves alone, walking down the quiet city streets. The cool night air did little to cool the heat that was growing between you. His hand brushed yours as you walked, a casual but deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, as if on cue, he stopped, turning to face you. His eyes held yours for a long moment, the city lights casting shadows over his sharp features.

“Should we continue this somewhere more private?” His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it, the tension in his question making your breath catch.

You nodded, your heart racing as he reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle as he led you toward his place. The walk was quiet, the air thick with anticipation. When you finally arrived, it felt like the world had slowed down, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here.

YOU WERE ASTOUNDED HOW SUAVE HIS EXISTENCE IS. The sight of his apartment took you by surprise, sleek and minimal yet warm, much like him. Everything was perfectly arranged, clean lines and subtle comfort that mirrored his understated charm. You couldn’t help but admire him, drawn in by everything he was. The more you were around him, the more you wanted—his presence, his touch, his everything.

He glanced at you, his gaze never wavering as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of a chair. In an instant, he was standing before you, hands on your waist, drawing you close with a quiet, commanding energy. The world outside faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in the dimly lit room.

His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, "I’ve been thinking about this all week."

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, as if savoring the moment. You could feel the excitement become even more palpable in you.

Each movement of his mouth felt carefully measured, like he had been imagining this for far longer than you realized. His hands moved with an easy confidence, sliding across your body, each touch making you feel as though he had memorized every inch of you.

When he lifted you, it felt seamless, effortless, as though you weighed nothing at all in his arms. He carried you to the bedroom, his strong grip both protective and possessive.

There was an undeniable chemistry between you—every brush of his skin against yours, every touch electric and charged with desire. His movements were slow, savoring the build-up, as if he had waited too long for this moment to rush through it.

Your breaths came out shallow and uneven as his lips moved from yours, down the length of your neck, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Each press of his mouth against your skin felt deliberate, purposeful, sending sparks of heat coursing through you.

His scent filled the space between you, rich and heady, mixing with the warmth of his body as he pressed closer. Every inch of you was aware of him—the solid strength of his frame, the way his breath hitched slightly as his hands roamed over you.

Kento’s fingers grazed the curve of your waist before tightening on your hips, pulling you against him with a quiet but undeniable hunger. The sensation of his body molded so tightly to yours made your heart race, your skin tingling with anticipation.

You bit your lip, trying to steady your breath, but it was impossible under the weight of his touch, his presence. His knee nudged between your thighs, parting them with a gentle yet insistent pressure, the friction sending a fresh wave of desire flooding through you.

"You feel so good, sweetie." he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with want.

A soft moan slipped from your lips as his hands roamed lower, teasing the edge of your clothes before slipping beneath the fabric. His fingers dug in, just enough to make you gasp, his touch hot against your skin. The sensation of him—his rough palms gliding over your bare skin, the tension coiling between you—was intoxicating, leaving you breathless.

You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your neck, clearly pleased with the effect he was having on you. "I love hearing you like that, sweetie." he murmured, his breath warm and teasing as his mouth hovered near your ear. "Don’t hold back."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching toward him as his fingers dipped lower, exploring you with an eagerness that made you ache. You gasped, unable to stop the sound that escaped your throat as his fingers slipped inside you, moving with a skill that left you trembling.

"Oh—Kento. Oh, baby….." you whimpered, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as your body pressed closer to his, desperate for more of his touch. He groaned softly in response, the sound vibrating through you.

His fingers moved inside you with purpose, every stroke calculated, every flick of his wrist sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves that made you cry out, your hips bucking instinctively against him.

"God, you’re so responsive. I like that." he growled, his voice rough with desire. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as his fingers moved faster, building a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge of control.

"I want you to come for me, sweetheart." he breathed against your ear, his voice low and commanding.

You couldn’t help it. The way he touched you, the way he knew exactly what you needed—it was too much. Your body responded without hesitation, muscles tightening as pleasure coiled deep inside you, ready to snap. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, broken and breathless, as you reached that sweet crescendo, your body trembling in his arms.

Kento didn’t want to stop, didn’t slow, as you rode the wave of pleasure. His fingers stayed inside you, coaxing every last bit of sensation from you, until you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly undone in his arms.

Kento’s fingers slowly withdrew, leaving you sensitive and aching, but he wasn’t done. His sharp gaze darkened as he looked down at you, his breath hot against your skin. He shifted, positioning himself between your thighs, and you felt a fresh rush of heat flood through you as his hands gently spread your legs wider, exposing your most sensitive, intimate places to him.

"You look incredible, slick like this." he murmured, his voice husky with desire. His eyes roamed over your body, lingering on every curve and soft line before settling on the glistening heat between your legs. The way he looked at you, so intent, so focused, made your heart race even faster.

Without a word, he lowered his head, his lips brushing the inside of your thigh with soft, teasing kisses. You shuddered beneath him, anticipation buzzing through your veins as his mouth inched closer to where you needed him most.

When his tongue finally flicked against your sensitive folds, you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. His touch was gentle at first, soft and exploratory, as if he was savoring the moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he took his time, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate.

"Kento—" you moaned, your voice breathless and needy. His hands slid up your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he held you steady, his mouth working against you with a precision that drove you wild.

"Mm, s’ good." he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of sensation through your core. His tongue swirled over your clit, slow and deliberate, before he sucked gently, and the world around you seemed to blur as pleasure bloomed deep in your belly.

"You taste so sweet. So so sweet." he growled at you, his voice low and full of hunger. He didn’t give you a moment to recover, his mouth returning to its work, tongue stroking over you in long, languid movements that left you trembling beneath him.

Your hands gripped the sheets, your body writhing against his mouth as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every soft press of his lips had you teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

"Please, please." you whimpered, your hips bucking against his face. "Don’t stop, Kento—"

He growled softly in response, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still as he intensified his pace. His tongue moved faster, more insistently, flicking and stroking your clit with a pressure that made you cry out. You could feel yourself unraveling, your body trembling uncontrollably as he pushed you closer and closer to release.

The heat inside you built with every stroke of his tongue, every soft moan he let out against you, until you couldn’t hold back any longer. Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pleasure overwhelmed you, and with a final, desperate cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you in waves.

Kento could only find himself addicted in your taste, his mouth continuing to work against you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were trembling, breathless, and utterly spent beneath him. Finally, he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal, and he looked up at you with a satisfied, almost possessive smile.

"You’re incredible, sweetie." he whispered, his voice rough and low as he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a slow, heated kiss. You could taste yourself on him, and it only made you want him more.

"Kento..." you breathed, your voice barely audible but full of want. The way you said his name made him pause, his eyes darkening with desire as they met yours.

He leaned in again, his lips hovering near your ear, his voice deep and rough. “Gonna keep making you feel good, sweetie.”

His thumb brushed against your lower lip before claiming your mouth again in a kiss that was no longer soft or patient but filled with raw, undeniable hunger. His need for you was palpable now, every kiss, every touch pushing you both closer to the edge.

The night unraveled slowly, deliberately, as if time itself bowed to the intensity of the moment. His movements, once restrained and careful, had given way to a raw passion that filled the air with a palpable heat. The soft glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains cast fleeting shadows on his face, highlighting the quiet hunger in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

His lips, warm and persistent, traced a slow, deliberate path over the curve of your neck, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved lower, each kiss searing your skin with a promise of what was to come.

His fingers followed, brushing against your skin with the lightest of touches, drawing a soft gasp from you. Every time he whispered your name, his voice low and filled with desire, it felt like the room itself pulsed in response, his words sinking into your very core.

“God, you’re so beautiful, sweetie.” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his eyes dark with an intensity that made your heart race.

Your body arched beneath him, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation building with every gentle caress. He paused for a moment, hovering above you, his gaze locked with yours, the weight of his control making your pulse quicken. It was as if he could sense every thought, every want, every need—knowing exactly how to unravel you. And you, caught in the tide of his desire, could do nothing but surrender.

“Please...” you breathed, the word slipping from your lips before you could even stop yourself. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained focused, intent.

His hands moved lower, his touch no longer teasing but commanding, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, the anticipation almost unbearable as his lips brushed against your ear, sending another wave of heat through your body.

“I’ve got you, sweetie.” he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a jolt of desire straight through you. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity of delicious torment, he positioned himself above you, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you ache with need. “Doin’ so good for me already, aren’t you?”

When he entered you, it felt like the culmination of everything—the tension, the desire, the quiet longing that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. A soft moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, his movements slow and deliberate, each thrust deep and steady, leaving you breathless.

Your hands found his back, your nails digging in as you clung to him, the intensity of it all building between you like a storm ready to break. His breath was ragged now, mingling with yours in the heated air, every thrust a silent declaration of the connection that bound you together.

“Don’t stop, Kento…. Don’t…Oh—” you whispered, your voice breaking as he moved faster, his control unraveling just enough for you to feel the full force of his desire. His lips found yours again, his kiss rough and hungry, matching the rhythm of his body as you moved together, lost in the heat and the need for more.

Each movement, each breath, felt like an unspoken promise, his body telling you everything he couldn’t say aloud. In that moment, there was no space for hesitation, no room for anything but the overwhelming intensity of him, of you, of the way you fit together so perfectly.

When you finally came, it was everything you hadn’t known you needed. Kento’s name fell from your lips over and over, a soft chant as waves of pleasure washed over you, your body tightening around his. The intensity of it left you breathless, your fingers clutching him as if afraid to let go. Moments later, he followed you, his body tensing as he found his own release, his low groan sending shivers through you all over again.

For a long time, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the quiet, shared breaths of two people completely undone by the moment. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively, his warmth enveloping you as you lay tangled together, the weight of what had just passed between you still lingering in the air.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Well, I think you got your answer.”

“Oh? About what?”

“We have bed chem.” He grins at you, kissing your shoulder.

You blinked and then laughed.

You could feel your heart still racing, and looked up at him, knowing that this moment was just the beginning.

epilogue

The sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets that barely covered your body. You stretched lazily, feeling the soft, comforting weight of the blankets and the familiar presence of Nanami beside you.

His arm was draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. The peaceful moment was too perfect to pass up, so you quietly reached for your phone, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the soft morning light.

The sheets barely covered your bodies, your bare skin visible beneath the white fabric. The scene was intimate, cozy, and full of the quiet warmth of a morning spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption before posting it online:

“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.”

The double entendre made you giggle quietly as you hit "post" knowing it was bound to get some playful reactions. You leaned back into the pillows, snuggling against Kento, who stirred slightly at your movement, his hand tightening around your waist.

“What are you up to?” he mumbled sleepily, his voice rough from sleep. His eyes opened just enough to catch your mischievous grin.

“Nothing… Just posting a little morning memory, darling.” you teased, unable to contain the laughter bubbling up inside you. Kento’s brow furrowed, clearly suspicious but too tired to press further.

It didn’t take long for the comments to start rolling in. Within minutes, his phone buzzed repeatedly on the nightstand. Kento could only feel himself groaning, reaching for it, and as soon as he saw the notifications lighting up the screen, his eyes widened in realization.

“You didn’t…?” His voice trailed off as he stared at the picture you had posted, the cheeky caption front and center.

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, watching as Nanami’s expression shifted from confusion to mild horror, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He scrolled through the comments, and you could see the flood of teasing messages from his castmates already coming in.

@/GojoSatoru: Nanami, my man! Didn’t know you had this side to you! 😂

@/Geto Suguru: Yo, Kento…….You really kinky IRL, huh?

@/HaibaraYu: Is that what we call ‘teamwork’ now? Guess I’ve been doing it all wrong… 😏

@/IeiriShoko: Honestly? Kinda iconic. But also, never gonna let you live this down.

Kento could feel his blush deepened as he kept scrolling, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly flustered. His hand ran through his hair in frustration, and he glanced at you with an exasperated but fond look.

“I can’t believe you posted that, sweetie.” he muttered, shaking his head as more notifications flooded in. “They’re never going to stop teasing me about this.”

You couldn’t stop giggling, leaning over to kiss his cheek, which was now bright red. “Come on, it’s cute. They’ll forget about it soon enough… maybe.”

Kento groaned again, but there was a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer. “You’re impossible, hm.” he said, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he wasn’t actually upset. He kissed your forehead softly, the tension in his body relaxing as he resigned himself to the teasing. “Too impossible.”

“I don’t mind being impossible if it makes you blush like this.” you teased, running your fingers through his hair, enjoying the rare sight of Kento looking flustered.

“Don’t push your luck, sweetie.” he replied, though the way his arms wrapped around you betrayed the affection behind his words. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I guess I’ll have to get used to being the subject of their jokes for a while.”

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

Nanami chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. “You already have, sweetheart.” he murmured, his hand brushing a lock of hair away from your face. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the teasing forgotten as the moment between you became tender again.

“I don’t care what they say, though.” he added quietly. “All that matters is this. Us.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the teasing moment giving way to a warmth that spread through your chest. You snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours, and smiled.

“Good. So do I.” you whispered, kissing him again, the teasing fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Nanami Kento could feel his phone buzzing again, but this time, neither of you bothered to check it. Let them tease—it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding comfort in the simple joy of being together.

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