#they’re both mark/c’s

[f1ormulaone]

Mark webber experiencing ptsd from seeing a four time world champion in a redbull

[hollyhomburg]

Y E S i live for sad bily facts

Okay so! Hiding them in the tags cuz I’m on mobile enter at your own risk

[nightshadereaper]

Soulmate au idea

Having the name of one’s soulmate on one wrist and worst enemy on the other creates some great drama, but what if one wrist had the soulmate’s name on it and the other had the best friends name. And which wrist they are on is random.

[wolviensabes]

NSFW Alphabet: Wolverine

a/n: I was excited to write a nsfw version of this because his character was surprisingly fun and easy to write for this. I like Logan because you can really be flexible with how he is in bed. It all depends on preference and writer ofc, but still it was fun to write. Wrote mostly gender neutral, on parts where body is described, I wrote for afab and amab. Not edited please ignore mistakes ty <3

18+ under the cut. MDNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

Aftercare king.

He knows just what to do, especially since sex with him is normally pretty rough and crazy. He leaves you a mess under him and you're barely able to walk. "Atta girl/boy, princess/prince, up you come." he grabs hold of you and lifts you up, carrying you to the bathroom to get you all clean.

He's a messy partner so you need a shower to get all the sex off you. He leaves you alone to do anything you need privately, but otherwise he's helping you maintain your balance in the shower and drying off.

You're in such a dazed state, you feel dizzy and lightheaded, still a little loopy. He will get you back to bed and lay you down, feeling pride and satisfaction within himself at how he could bring you to such a state. Only he could do that to you.

He will hold you close to him, you feel cold now, his body will warm you up. He likes skin to skin, so unless you want a shirt, he won't dress you so he can feel your softer skin against his own.

The praise he gives you makes you feel so special and worth so much, it helps when you come down from your high, knowing he was satisfied and loved every moment of the act.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

I don't think he really has a favorite part of his partner, but I will die on the hill that he likes his partners a little chunky. He loves to grab onto you, he likes how he can manhandle you without worry of hurting you.

Those plush hips and belly drive him insane. If you are afab, your ass draws his hand in every single time and he loves to smack and grab it. If you are amab, he will grab onto your thighs or soft, relaxed chest muscles and squeeze them. Both afab and amab, his hands come around from behind and gently knead your belly.

Logan is a dude so on himself...he holds his manhood very high, and for good reason.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Filthy.

He gets that shit all over the place and he loves it.

He loves marking you inside and out. He loves shooting his spunk on your body just as much but something about releasing inside you makes him somehow cum harder and with more.

He's not that bad taste wise, I mean cum doesn't taste great, but he's not bad. Not too bitter, not too salty, but his cum is thick. And when he does climax, he cums a LOT.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Logan, being a primal mutant, loves scents. It's one of the things that he relies on a lot, and your scent is intoxicating. He steals some of your clothes and smells them, or sometimes he will dive into your crotch and inhale you.

Not exactly dirty, but Logan secretly likes when you scratch his head or mess with his hair after sex. He likes to keep himself up as a tough guy most of the time but when you wind down, even if he's the one holding you, he sometimes scoots down enough to let you play with his hair.

He will move his head where he wants your hand to scratch and leans into it when you reach that sweet spot.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?):

He's over 200 years old, he's got experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying):

Literally anything where he can watch you mewl and moan for him.

He also likes from behind or positions where he can watch his cock sink into you with each thrust.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

Logan isn't goofy but he also isn't serious. He's open to messing around and with tossing, turning, all sorts of play, it's not going to be serious 100% of the time.

He will chuckle and tease, sometimes funny noises are made, that's just how it is, and you both will laugh a little...but then you get back to it because who can resist?

Sometimes he will play fight you, wrestle you down to the bed and hold you there, with ease, and he smirks down at you trying to overpower him. It's a fun way to rile him up for sex and he enjoys it quite a bit.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.):

Logan is hairy, but not insanely so. I think below he is pretty crazy but he trims it down enough once you two get more intimate. Though he thought it was funny watching you spit out his pubes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect):

He can be romantic but he is more passionate than anything. He likes to make sure you feel good, and he loves doing it. Once he gets you feeling good, he gets a little more rough and tells you what he likes without shame.

He's very forward, and his communication in the bedroom is immaculate. You wished he were like that outside of the bedroom sometimes, because there's no hesitation, no secrets, he's fully confident and tells you exactly what he wants.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Sometimes he masturbates, sometimes he doesn't. It all depends on how horny he is in the moment.

He'll fist his cock to the thought of you, or since he likes your scent a lot, he will practically inhale your underwear and jerk himself until he cums all over his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks):

Logan...he's kinky as hell.

Dom/sub dynamics drive him up the wall. He loves being in control, manhandling you, having you listen to what he says without fail.

Slight primal play would be up his alley. The playful wrestling and fighting gets him going and he likes to bite and mark you up during sex. Almost looking like an animal attacked you, but no, it was just Logan marking you as his.

Dirty talk king. He is so brazen with his language, whispering it into your ear as he pounds your poor, swollen hole full of another load.

Praise, praise, praise! He loves to praise you and how good you take his thick cock inside you.

Overstimulation/denial, he loves the control. He often makes you cum multiple times before even penetrating you just to hear you cry and whimper for him.

Maybe a slight breeding kink, since he loves the idea of filling you up to the brim with his thick cum, (this goes regardless of afab or amab), he's going to fill you up regardless if it's biologically possible to impregnate you or not. It's just for fantasy anyway.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

He will do it anywhere he feels like. He doesn't care who sees. You're his and he likes everyone around you to know it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

I love that most everyone agrees that wearing his clothes makes him fucking feral. He would lose it seeing you in a shirt of his...or maybe even naked and only wearing a flannel. Slowly unclasping each button to make him growl and almost rip the damn thing off you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs):

He'd never want to hurt you. There are things he likes that might harm you but he doesn't actually want to cause you harm.

He can be rough and he doesn't want to actually hurt you. A spank or choking just enough to get you dizzy is about as far as he would go. Logan would never intentionally try to harm you, especially during something as intimate as sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

He has a hard time picking what he likes better. He loves diving between your legs and lapping you. But he also loves to see you choke around his thick cock.

Logan loves the dirtiness of it, his dick in your throat and watching you try your best to please him. He loves seeing you choke and gag on him, your face gets so sloppy with spit and cum, it makes him more crazy in bed when he's fucking you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

With Logan it can be 50/50. He can be rough and hard, or slower and passionate. Most of the time he is ensuring you cum multiple times, and then he fucks you into the bed while you cry around his cock. Then, he gives you another orgasm, he cums, and the cycle repeats until you literally can't take it anymore.

Then he cleans you up and makes sure you know how good you were for him. You'll have trouble walking for a few days.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

He's down for a quickie, he can make you cum fast when he wants to. However he does prefer to make you whine and beg instead of giving you a solid, quick orgasm unless you really need it.

Sometimes he needs a quick one too, so a fast blowjob helps. But again, he likes to take his time rather than rush it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

He takes plenty of risks. He loves to test the waters with you and experiment with all sorts of things. He's down to try almost anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?):

His mutation allows him to have enhanced stamina so be prepared for that.

He can go for literal hours and not be tired at all. His mutation also allows his refectory period to be very short. So...you will be filled to the brim.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

I don't think he would have any for himself, but he would start to grow a collection if you had any or showed interest in some. He'd keep them under his bed in his room whenever you wanted to spice things up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Logan is the king of teasing you. He loves to tease until you can't take it and tears are rolling down your cheeks.

He always gives you what you want in the end, but not without that asshole making you beg.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

He doesn't give two shits who hears him, or you, he is loud. He grunts, groans, snarls. Not to mention the insane level of dirty talk he does, and he loves to make you scream out his name.

By the time you're done, you swear half the mansion heard you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

He dirty talks like crazy.

Sometimes he will fuck you when you're wearing his clothes, or when he comes back from a mission, he doesn't bother cleaning up before he storms up to your shared room and he fucks you.

Angry sexxx

He lets out his frustrations from missions as he pounds into you.

"Goddamn slim, stupid fuckin' self-designated leader thinks he can boss me around like I'm nothin' but a loyal scout to 'em." he grunts and snarls with each plap of his hips into you, his cock driving against you. You have no idea what happened on the mission but can you complain? No.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes):

Logan's dick is huge let's get that out of the way.

He's thick, it feels like he rips you open each time he penetrates you and it feels fucking incredible. That also means lots of foreplay~

He's veiny, his cock throbs as he stands erect, and his balls are heavy.

He's a good 8 to 8.5 inches fully erect, the damn thing leaks precum constantly when he's horny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

Insanely high. He will fuck you every single day if he could.

He is down to fuck all the time, anytime. You just have to say the word and he's on top of you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

Logan makes sure you're comfortable before he even attempts to sleep. He stays awake, letting you curl into him and he watches you, making sure nothing he did was too much or causing pain.

Once you seem okay and have fallen asleep, he will allow himself to relax and fall asleep beside you.

Thanks for reading.

*SNIKT*

Tag list: @strawberryshortcake20

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list by leaving a 🧡.

dividers by @/strangergraphics

[porcalinecunt]

Question, what if there was Von & Wrio riding fem reader? Sandwichinh her as they use both her holes roughly?👀

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅!

🪽 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ if you were squished n stuffed by giant canine men ~ <3

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐕𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐎𝐍 & 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — mean dom! wriothesley. soft dom! von lycaon. double penetration. size kink. breeding. anal sex. mentions of knot. implied polyamory(?)

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : this was messily written since my last draft wasn’t saved ;-; so apologies if this ended up half baked nonie [frustrated noises]

you couldn’t get a breath in, not with two horny mutts pumping themselves in and out of your poor holes.

it was supposed to be plain, simple sex just to relieve von lycaon’s stresses. after all, being the strong-head of victoria’s housekeeping always takes a toll on him. whether taking on ethereals or watching over the young, impressionable maids. settling him down and doing all the work in pleasing him.

of course, your other lover couldn’t help himself. rudely interrupting the both of you while lycaon was balls deep inside you, undressing with a raging hard on. “what? can’t let you two have all the fun..” he chuckled.

now here you are, pressed between the two canines as they ravaged your pussy and ass at an animalistic pace.

“ah! s-slow down! plea..ahh..!”

you mewled, pleading falling on deaf ears as wriothesley gripped the back of your knees with lycaon squeezing the life out of your marked up thighs. your poor cunt, exposed and stuffed full by the duke’s ridiculous girth while the furry thiren anal fucked you.

“don’t tap out now, princess. not when you’ve been so so good to us..”

wriothesley groaned with a lustful grin, a fang could be seen peering through his lips. his pace was unforgiving, stretching your pussy out to it’s limit. you weakly lift your head up, watching the lewd scene play out in front of you. a creamy white ring already sat at the base, indicating your impending orgasm.

a large, furry paw grabbed the back of your head and forced it to face the man below you. the one stuffing your pretty little ass full of wolf cock and knot. “enjoying yourself? master y/n..?”

you nodded in response, lycaon leaning forward to capture your lips—or rather mouth—into a disgustingly passionate kiss. your eyes white from how far they rolled to the back of their heads as the thiren stuffed your mouth with his tongue.

“‘course she enjoys it..a good little lady like her would adore a dickin’ from us.” the duke chuckled, caging you between his scarred arms.

the sound of skin slapping against skin and your lover’s groans overwhelmed your head. stars filled your vision as an incoming orgasm took feeling from your legs. lycaon kept bullying his length into your tight ass, his knot pressing and growing against your sweetly sensative spot while he swallowed your mewls and begs to be bred full. your little brain was nothing but mush, only with the desire for your boys to stuff you full of cum until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“c-cumm..gonna cum!”

you sobbed, digging your nails into wriothesley’s biceps which forced a hiss through his sharp teeth. the more their cocks twitches, the harder you clenched around them, almost milking the two men till they’re fucking dry.

“woah woah..don’t clench like that baby or we’ll—fuck!” wriothesley abruptly groaned in your ear as ropes of white shot into your cunt, the sudden rush of warmth pushed out sounds that could’ve been straight out of porn. only more so when lycaon felt his own orgasm wash over him.

one final, and harsher, thrust snapped his cock deep in your ass. the sensation doubled the pleasure you were already drunk off of, it’s a shock you didn’t pass out.

“a-apologies master..i should’ve said something before—“

you pressed an intimate kiss onto the wolf’s nose, instantly shutting up whatever formalities he had. “no need, darling..” you spoke in a weak tone. the thiren wrapped his large, furry arms around your waist while the duke buried his face in your bruised up neck.

yet, the fun had only begun, as they haven’t even pulled out of your leaking holes. can’t waste a drop now, can you?

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[20-th-centurygirl]

nsfw alphabet

jude bellingham x reader

masterlist navigation

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

king of aftercare idc what anyone says. i think he loves showering with you in general bc it's soo intimate to him so he's always showering with you and helping you wash your hair :( he's also super touchy at the best of times but especially after sex he literally cannot take his hands off you.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

cannot decide if he's an ass or boobs man i think he's abit of both tbh. he loves resting his hands on your waist literally all the time. loves your thighs! always has a hand resting on your thigh when you're sitting down and loves leaving little bite marks and hickies on them 🤭 i also think he loves a lil belly pouch? idk how to explain it but i just think he absolutely adores a girl with curves.

on him i think his arms or thighs. he goes feral when he catches you staring at his biceps and always flexes them cause he knows it has you drooling. loves his thighs cause he knows how much you love riding them 😁😁

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

loves finishing in you. it just feels so intimate to him that you both trust eachother enough and it makes him feel so much closer to you.also loves finishing on your boobs or stomach then scooping his cum up with his fingers and making you lick it off 😋😋

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he loves middle of the night sex. it's always so much more intense and intimate and jude's always a little whinier

i also feel like he secretly wants you to take control but is too worried to ask. he's so dominant in every aspect of his life and i think sometimes he just wants his girl to take care of him :(

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he knows what he's doing but i also don't think he's super experienced? he doesn't seem the type to have loads of one night stands tbh. he's experienced but it still took him some time to figure out what was good for you

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

he's a man so ofc he loves abit of doggy but i also think he loves missionary. as basic as it is, it makes him feel closer to you and makes the whole experience more intimate for him. he's also not gonna say no to having you on top 🤭

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

honestly i think it depends. sometimes neither of you can stop giggling for no actual reason? one of you will let out a moan then both of you just burst out laughing.

but i think he's also super serious at times because he's always so busy and he wants to make the most out of time with his girl. he wants to savour every moment with you so stays super serious.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he keeps everything neat but not nare

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so so intimate! i think he has a filthy mouth but he can't for the life of him be any level of degrading because he feels mean (he doesn't give a fuck about how mean he is when he's teasing though 🤭) so his comments are more praise.

i think he secretly loves that super cheesy romantic music rose petals and candles sex more than he'd ever admit. he doesn't get to spend alot of time with you so when he has you all to himself and a chance to show you just how much you mean to him you best believe he's gonna take it.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

loves facetiming you to get himself off when you're away. he doesn't usually do it at home bc you're there. but the real magic is mutual masturbation bc i think he's super into that 🤭🤭 (@judeswhore 's blurb on this is 10/10 btw) loves having you next to him with one leg over his touching himself. there's just something about it that sends him into overdrive.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise kink!! giving and receiving jude loveeesss praise. constantly telling you that you're his good girl and how well you're doing 🫠 but he also loves receiving praise. goes feral when you call him your good boy. will literally beg you to tell him how good he feels when he's fucking you

also has a raging size kink. he's massive and loves how small you look compared to him. has a thing for fucking you infront of a mirror so he gets to see the size difference between you both.

i also think he loves a risk. he is literally up for fucking you whenever wherever even if there's a chance of you being caught. i'm talking having a quickie in your childhood bedroom while your parents/siblings are literally downstairs. tells you to be a good girl and stay quiet or he'll stop. sometimes makes you suck on his fingers so you stay quiet 🤭

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

i think he loves your bedroom the most. as basic as it is, there's no interruptions and he can completely focus on you. however he does love to tease you in public just to hear you beg him to take you home so he can finish what he started.

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

anything. literally something as simple as you putting on lip gloss or wearing something tight has his going wild.

n= no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that's gonna hurt you. i don't think he'd be into super degrading talk. like maybe a little bit but nothing too far.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think he's 50/50. he loves to tease you and he knows he can do that when he's going down on you.

but i think he has a super sensitive dick 🙂 like the moment you have him in your mouth he's trying desperately not to just fall apart and cum instantly.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

also depends. after a bad game (him and refs never get along) he's super fast and rough but super clingy and affectionate after. but otherwise he's super slow and romantic and loves taking his time with you. sometimes you literally have to beg him to be rougher with you 🤭

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves a quickie before he goes to training! he'll literally bend you over the kitchen worktops and make your head spin then kiss your neck, give you this really cocky smirk and tell you to be good and he'll do a proper job when he gets home.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes yes yes! he's always down to try new things bc he wants to make sure you're having the best sex of your life. i think he's into risks bc he loves the thrill but he doesn't really take any public risks because the chance of you being caught is super high and he doesn't want to cause you any embarrassment

s= stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he runs around for 90 mins, he's got good stamina and you're usually warn out way before him " c'mon baby. you gonna be a good girl and give me one more?"

t= toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

loves using them 🤭 i genuinely think he loves buying new ones he sees to try them out on both of you and you sometimes get new ones that you see too 🤭 just for a second imagine using a vibrator on him.

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

biggest tease ever. he loveeess to drag everything out and mocks you a little bit when you get overstimulated 🤭

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

loud. he's not afraid to let you know how good you're making him feel by moaning, whining, whimpering and all that 😋

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves loves loves lingerie. like seeing you in pretty little matching sets literally drives him insane. he loves surprising you with new really expensive sets ( i'm talking agent provocateur stuff). he buys you some when he's away on international break and asks you to model them for him which always ends in the best phone sex ever

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

we've seen enough evidence, he's massive 🤭

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

the man is literally never satisfied. he's so completely obsessed with you and he just can't ever get enough.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he won't fall asleep until he knows you're 1000% okay and comfortable. once he knows you're doing okay and relaxed then he can sleep.

[kenobers]

nsfw alphabet | Jason Todd

what the title says ! tw; explicit sexual content, gn!reader a/n; like always, these are just my thoughts and headcanons

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Jason's gonna make sure you're comfortable afterwards. He'll wipe you down, check that he didn't go too far. If you leave afterwards, he'll make sure you get home safe. If you stay, he'll offer you a t-shirt to sleep in. For a while, he wasn't big on the physical aspect of aftercare, but eventually pulling you to his chest becomes second nature. It's like your head fits just right in the crook of his shoulder. Hey, maybe the body heat will keep with the inevitable soreness you'll feel tomorrow. He's big on eating after sex. If you have enough energy, he'll order some Chinese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven. Sometimes it's kind of astonishing how the man will fuck you until you're more than a ragdoll, then immediately demolish like three Big Macs.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves hands. He loves his hands. They're big and strong, they can protect you, please you, provide for you. He adores the way you feel under them, soft and clean. He loves to feel you press against his palm while his fingers disappear inside of you. He loves your hands, the way they feel on his skin. No matter their size, they always look so small wrapped around his cock. He cherishes every mark your fingernails leave along his back, every sting they leave on his scalp when they twist his hair. He loves that your hands can go from caressing his scars to replacing them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jason loves the sight of you, sweaty and panting, with your stomach and thighs decorated in white. He's a little more possessive than he likes to admit, and he secretly feels like he's marking you as his whenever he finishes all over your skin.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves having high sex. When the weed hits just right, so the world reduces to nothing but you...that's that good shit right there. He gets so locked in that there isn't a single thought that could pull him away. He's numb in every place that isn't touching you. It adds a certain level of passion, of desperation, for each of you because your senses are so heightened to each other. However, it isn't very often that he feels both of you are to the same level of inebriated for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He isn't as sexually charged as you would think and he typically waits to get to know a person before having sex with them (with a few exceptions, like for a certain crime lord's daughter). So in that regard, one of his body counts is significantly higher than the other, but he's had enough experience to know what he's doing. He knows what he likes and he knows how to figure out what you like.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

So long as your legs are hooked over his hips, he's happy. Jason particularly loves it when he's on his knees while you're on your back with your hips angled over his thick thighs. It lets him get deep inside of you while still being able to look at your pretty face. Not to mention, he loves grasping your hips, spreading your legs wide. (According to trusted resource, SexPositions.Club, this is position 5. Aquarius) He also loves having you up against things. Against a wall, on the kitchen table, the handle bars of his motorcycle. The way you hold onto him in more ways than one really adds something to the moment. And yeah, maybe it allows him to show off his strength to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jason's tone depends on the time and place. For the most part, he's serious. He teases you, lets out a low chuckle when he gets a sought after reaction from you, but it isn't humorous. But sometimes...sex is just incredibly unserious. Like lazy morning sex, when neither of you can be bothered to do much more than roll on top of one another. Like you're horny, but Jason looks so goofy with his hair sticking up and you're a real beauty queen with your crusty eyes. Or the aforementioned high sex, when both of you are so lost in your pleasure and giggles.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His autopsy scar stops where his happy trail begins. Before you were a regular in his bed, he didn't really think to groom himself much. But he figured he should show you some decorum, so he keeps the dark patch of hair reigned in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jason doesn't take sex lightly. It's either a tool or a declaration of love (no matter how lazy). If he's using sex as a tool, he isn't going to be very intimate. He'll praise you, sing songs about your body, but it isn't going to be very personal. However, when you're in an established relationship, he's very intimate. There's much more kissing and eye contact, lots more "that's my baby" instead of "that's it, baby".

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh yeah. Usually only if you're gone though. He'd rather have the real deal. But sometimes...if he thinks about you for a little too long...well, it's hard to hide all that when you're his size...it's just polite for everyone else if he just deals with it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jason's kinks are sort of a revolving door. He likes to go rougher and he likes to be in charge typically, but everything else is dependent on your moods. One day he'll blindfold you, the next you'll tie his hands together while he gives you orders you have to follow on your own. He'll be daddy once, then sir the next, but his favorite thing to here is Jason. He also gets a thrill out of doing it with the Red Hood mask on. He's also got a praise kink. There's nothing that gets him going more than hearing you babble about how good he's making you feel, about how much you love him. It goes the other way as well. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how beautiful you are, how well you're taking him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Where ever the mood strikes. Generally speaking, his apartment is his favorite place. There isn't a particular room, he just likes the knowledge that this is your space to do as you please. But he does get a little thrill whenever you manage to do it somewhere risky.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's cliche as hell, but the sight of you in red really does work wonders for him. If he can see your nipples through your shirt, it's over. Watching you doing or say something intelligent is a huge turn on. He likes to watch you work for it. The way you oh-so-conspicuously bend over to pick something up or shiver so your chest sticks out. Make a suggestive face as you drop an innuendo only he understands and he'll see to it that your efforts don't go unrewarded.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not a voyeur. If he's gonna do it in a public setting, it's gonna be in a closet or a bathroom stall; somewhere that still shields your bodies from prying eyes. That's just for the two of you. Now, of course there's exceptions - like if you're trying to piss off your mobster father by fucking on his property, then he'll get a little cheeky for the security cameras.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jason is nothing, if not a giver. Just lay back and let him take care of it, baby. This is something he can spend hours doing. His tongue knows just where to work you, he knows just how much teeth you like, where the biting boarders on pain. And if his fingers aren't right next to his mouth, they're kneading your skin, raking his nails across your stomach with a featherlight touch, massaging the kinks in your thighs so you can open them a little more. If nothing else, his mouth and hands can cover a lot of ground.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jason likes it fast and rough. He'll drag out foreplay to his heart's content, but once you're good and ready, he's fucking you like his life depends on it. Then he's flipping you over and doing it again. That said, he has his slow and sensual moments. After a rough night when he's feeling particularly sentimental and grateful for you, he'll take all the time in the world just to watch you underneath him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Pro quickie, but usually if it's an appetizer for what comes later on. It's hard to take a dick that big and casually go on about your day. So, most of the time quickies look like his fingers sneaking down your pants during your lunch break, his head between your thighs in the bathroom at a charity event, or you on your knee taking care of him before patrol.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As mentioned earlier, his kinks are a revolving door, so he would be down to experiment. He's pretty good about saying no when he needs to, and if he trusts that you can do the same, then he's open to trying new risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

No one recovers like this man. He can go for as many rounds as your heart desires. Unless he's already been yearning the whole damn day, Jason can last until the cows come home.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys for himself and doesn't really like to use them on his own body. However, he likes to use the vibrator on you, especially during foreplay. He likes to watch as you curl into him and shake with pleasure while he drives the toy between your legs - especially knowing that it won't be enough to satisfy you for long.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease up to a certain point. If you're out doing something, he'll keep sliding his hand higher and higher up your thigh, then pull away completely, or lean down to say something to you so that his breath hits your neck in that one sensitive spot... But once your clothes are off, he can only restrain himself for so long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low groans and swears. His mouth as a mind of its own when he really gets going as he praises you, teases, calls out to you. You're his Baby, his Pretty Thing/Girl/Boy, so so good for him, taking it all like this. Oooh. Look. At. You. You can always tell when he's close because his panting turns to grunts, his sweet nothings become more intense as they strain between his teeth.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's secretly a little self conscious about his body, particularly about his scars. Like, yeah, he's big and muscly and people always say they dig scars, but...some of his are, like, real nasty. Not to mention, that some of them have triggering memories attached to them. He finds his autopsy scar to be especially gross. It takes up so much of his chest and it doesn't seem to want to fade like the rest of his marks tend to do. So for a while when you first started having sex, he found ways around taking his shirt off. And if it did come off, it was in the dark. Once he works up the courage to finally show you all of him in proper light, he's surprised when you're more fascinated with it than anything. He can't suppress the shiver that runs down his spine when you press your lips to the crux of that T-shaped stamp. He probably won't ever love his scars, but he'll always adore the way you treat them.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's a big guy and is very proportional. He's a solid 8 inches standing tall and girthy. He's a lot to take in, which is why he's very adamant about getting an orgasm out of you before penetration.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His libido is strong for you. As previously stated, he's not as sex charged as you would think, but he does have a strong desire for you. He initiates sex fairly regularly, but he doesn't feel the need to paw at your clothes 24/7.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He almost always waits until you fall asleep. If you manage to fall asleep quickly, then he'll follow suit typically.

[plutonianeris]

pick a pile: your future lover (mini sneak peak 18+) 🖤

take a deep breath and scroll through the images… choose based on your inner guidance.

art by keely majewksi

Pile one 🖤⛓️

initials: A, Z, J, S, G, N, K

flirty eye contact… I see a lot of smiling at first but then they are smirking. It’s like they know you must be attracted to them the way they are to you.

they might have low self esteem even though they are very physically attractive.

they feel inspired by you to be better and do better

they see you as out of their league.

“you think I’m attractive? what? that’s all you?”

going out to eat together and laughing a lot.

liquid courage (one of you feels doesn’t want to show how nervous you feel)

“your skin is so soft”

“you can touch me if you want”

the eye contact is intense.

it turns you both on you have a “secret” together.

it feels really good to keep that secret…

they love having their head between your legs

they cant get enough of how you taste or the sounds you make

you act like its no big deal? you love it.

Pile two🖤⛓️

initials: B, A, C, M, S, R

friends first?

they can’t stop staring especially at your lips and your beauty mark

jealous when you talk about someone else… tries to downplay it like its no big deal

very sexual energy for this pile.. will downplay it in conversation but show you in bed there’s no one better for you than them

they find you adorable.

they want to squeeze you and bite you playfully

they want to have you begging and moaning, scratching their back with your nails

they love to see the marks you leave on them

“go ahead I can take it, can you?”

way taller than you

“hows the view from up there?” “trust me always better when its you in front of me..”

they could love to draw or play a sport (soccer? or possibly basketball)

Pile three🖤⛓️

initials: R, J, I, A, M, E

total opposites

they fantasize about you and then feel guilty about it because you look so “innocent” to them

very respectful in person.. always asks you how you are feeling

they get turned on by your breasts? they fantasize about massaging them, sucking them..

you give them song and book recommendations and they feel like they’re in love

they idolize you “you look so beautiful here let me just take this picture really quick”

conflict of interest somehow (maybe coworkers or they just got out of relationship or you did and it feels like its soon…)

the more they try to make it seem like they’re not into you, the more obvious it is

you wave hi to them and they blush or stutter (you might think they’re rude at first but its because they find you so fucking hot they go silent)

[defmaybe]

Not Shy

1k words

aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

Sequel to J’adore

See also: Sticky, Bahama

“Are you sure no one noticed us coming in here?”

“The five-minute interval shouldn’t alarm anyone, f–fuck.”

You whimper as Jimin drags her lips on where the suit doesn’t cover, so—the hollow of your throat. Your back is leaning on the women’s bathroom door.

“And by the way, ngh, it’s like they’d snitch on a student president, anyway.”

“You’ve got nothing to lose, baby. You’re a fucking treasurer, mmm.”

“I–,” are the last things you can rebuke before the buttons of your shirt are unlocked.

It’s true, aside from a few bills collected onsite, you have absolutely no worries at this second, both at work and in reliability. Background works—billing, accounting—won’t be affected by whether you’re getting fucked by your head of student council, anyway. Treasurer is quite a passive position to do, isn’t it?

“Not so witty anymore, mmh?” Karina bends down; her tongue paints a straight line up your abdomen, and you clench your mouth tightly to not have the other partygoers hear your symphony—her words.

“C–Can’t you just like, ngh, forbid them o–or something?” you ask, legs shaking with her hand groping your bulge, her lips still printing endless marks on your chest. Your composure is stripped off with each clothing removed.

“I wish secrets work like that, dumbass,” she responds, fingers grabbing your crotch–tightly, sending a shock throughout your lithe frame.

“Ngh! F–Fuck~ Alright, I–I get it, Jimin.”

“Be a good boy for me and keep quiet, alright?” She pulls back from your now-reddened body, locking you within her eyes–brown, alluring. It helps that her hair is tied to the back neatly with no stray strands, so that you can see her face—god, that face, the perfectly sculpted nose, the rosy red lips—clearer.

“S-Sure.” You can do nothing but comply.

Now, the logistics of the bathroom aren’t very complex. There are stalls—perfect for a sitting position. There are walls, obviously—pin Jimin against the wall and fuck her brainless. Though, is she a woman like that—the kind that is so eager to become a student president in college, and so pliant at the same time? You’d argue that there exists a woman in this intersection; it’s just not Jimin.

This is where the mirrors and the sinks come in.

“Ready?” The stark eye contact is still there, and she’s still grabbing your aching erection under the pants.

“Ready what?”

“You know, fucking my cunt,” Jimin growls, letting go of your bulge onto the back of her neck, trying to unlatch her thin, black strap holding her night together.

“O–Oh, yeah.” And swiftly, the clanks of your belt, the swoop of your pants, and another swoop of your underwear finally unshackles your raging length for her.

At the same time, her dress comes undone, freeing her voluptuous breasts topped by the hardened brown peaks just for you, and you don’t realize that you’ve been entranced by them for a little too long.

“Hey,” Jimin says, snapping her fingers. “Yeah, I fucking know they’re big. Now fill me up already.”

You gulp, “Y-Yeah,” as you watch her taking off her laced purple panties.

She then hands you the garment. “Here, a souvenir for our underappreciated treasurer.” She rolls her eyes while saying so, not believing the words coming out.

With not much time to lose, you quickly shove her used underwear into your pockets, making sure no tails of it can be seen. And getting ready, Jimin walks towards the marble sink, planting hands on it. Her immaculate features are shown in the mirror. She pulls the charcoal-black dress up, looking at you in the reflection.

“Fuck me.”

It would be the sight of your ass jerking back and forth if someone is to walk in on the debauchery—not your cock, not her tits (helps that your hands are using them as handles—grabbing, squeezing). Every thrust in and out of her, the sight of her contorted expression, the sound of her silent moans are sending you into rapture.

“Y–Your vagina feels so good, J–Jimin, ngh,” you moan. Your cock now glistens with her juice.

“Say ‘cunt’ or ‘pussy’ like a normal person, idiot. I’m not a fucking prudish,” Karina scoffs.

You aren’t in the right state of mind to debate, really. Her wet, tight cavern is so determined to milk every drop of essence out of you to drought. The walls squeezing around your needy length is just too much to handle.

And there it is, your impending release. You can feel it in your loins, far, but it’s there. Karina gives you a stern eye contact along the act—purposeful, ardent. Hell, she’s even smirking at you. She’s always this confident, isn’t she? It has been like this since the first meeting. She’s headstrong, not swaying by a bit, even if she’d be alone with the choice. She’s kind, not swaying by a bit, even if it means getting herself into harm. She’s perfect. She’s fucking perfect.

“F–Fuck, Jimin, I think I’m gonna–”

“Just fucking cum inside me, baby. I wanna feel your cum dripping down my legs. I wanna feel your cum–, ngh,” she cries out, unable to form the last words. She doesn’t seem to care about her forte anymore.

And it’s like you’d care, anyway.

“Cum with me, alright?” Jimin looks back at you, before mumbling under her breath, “Ha, fucking bye-nior prom.”

It’s not much more for you to release your seed inside of her, as you can feel her body shrieking around your cock. It’s a euphoria—eyes fluttering, hips slowing down, panting and such. You can hear your cacophony echo throughout the bathroom. 

As you two come down from the orgasm, Jimin’s breaths are still ragged. “F–Fuck, that’s great, my dear treasurer.”

“Y–You’re t–too, my dear president.” You’re also unable to catch your rhythm.

“Do you think anyone would hear us?”

You ponder for a few heartbeats before replying, “Yeah, definitely… maybe.”

[gigi-loveless]

summary - dom!ellie x dom!reader, no plot, they’re literally fighting for dominance

warnings - all consensual! slapping, choking, wrestling, degrading

authors note - i’m so sorry this is filthy as fuck i need to go bathe in holy water, as always requests are open 🪽✨

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“make me.”

and oh how that instant regret hit as soon as your tattooed girlfriend slammed you up against the wall, photos trembling against the plaster as she wastes no time thrusting her tongue into your mouth.

how sloppy and disheveled you both already are, her grinning against your lips as you desperately flail your wrists away from where she has them pinned against the wall. so you use the one thing you know makes ellie soft.

“such a good girl….”

trailing your sentence off, ellie loosens her grip on you, sighing breathlessly. quickly, you take this perfect opportunity to escape her clutch, and yank at that perfect auburn hair of hers, bringing her gaze to you.

“you’re mine tonight, angel.”

she leers, as your confidence flounders.

“yeah? make me.”

all of the sudden, she throws you onto the bed, straddling your waist and restraining your wrists above your head with her muscular arm.

“can’t help it baby…y’jus look so pretty like this…” ellie coos, swiping her calloused finger under your chin as she latches her warm mouth to one of your pebbled nipples. lip quivering, you scan the room to find anything to free you from her grasp. it’s starting to seem like you have one option left - fight.

using all your strength, you manage to push ellie off you, as she gasps and laughs in surprise.

“ohhhh, that’s what you want, hm?” she chuckles, wiping her mouth as you pant, noticing the damp patch pooling in your panties.

suddenly she lunges at you, attempting to wrestle your way back into submission. as your thigh grazes her core though, she stops for a moment, allowing you to grab her by her throat. the poor things clawing at you, panting for your touch. just as you’re about to reward her pretty pussy…

ellie harshly strikes you across the cheek.

you touch the heated area, breathlessly soothing it down.

“oh, i’m-i’m sorry if that was too far, we can-uhm-we can stop if y-“

“strip.”

the girl silently obeys you, eyeing as you peel your clothing off as well. she settles back on the bed, awaiting your instruction.

quickly, you throw her leg over your shoulder, and guide her hand to your throat yet again. your hand also finds solace at her throat, both of you squeezing lightly.

the squelching of your heated clits kneading together is downright sinful, your wetness blending together, dripping all down your thighs. looking up at ellie, her pretty eyes rolled into the back of her head, you can’t help but gush even more at the sight. how fucked out she already looks, small red marks appearing on her pale neck around the perimeter of your fingers.

“you’re a fuckin whore.” she spits, smirking proudly to herself. “look at yourself…all dripping because i fuckin hit you…”

“y’know how fucked up that is? that you’re so soaked from that? you really are a slut aren’t you….” she ponders, scanning your eyes for an answer.

“c-could say the same about you….” you sigh, pleasure buzzing through your veins.

“m’…..m’s close….” she gurgles, as you tighten the grip on her neck, pressing the tempo of your strokes impossibly faster, her clit throbbing against yours.

with one final stroke, your high comes as well, band snapping in your stomach. the last you feel before blacking out being ellie’s tender touch guiding you to the pillow.

“so how the fuck are we supposed to pick who does aftercare?”

“uhhh….” she starts giggling. “rock paper scissor?”

“it’s rock paper scissors el….oh jesus you little freak!”

join my taglist!

@ellies2missingfingers @ellieslob

[educatedsimps]

— "ctrl+C, ctrl+V" sakusa kiyoomi

≪ back to fics masterlist

sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

a/n: saw a fanart of chibi sakusa and this came to mind so i just had to write this out to get it out of my head 🫠 sorry if my writing's not perfect i wrote this in like an hour HAHAHDHDJSJSHD

cw: FLUFF, parenting au, atsumu being annoying

wc: 586

Kiyoomi had always expressed how much he wanted your kids to have your features - from your hair, your eyes, your smile, your laugh, he wanted them to inherit everything about you. He essentially wanted his kids to be mini clones of you, the person he loved and admired the most in the world.

However, when your first child was born, it was pretty clear that she'd take after her father. Immediately, you noticed birth marks at almost the exact same spot as her father, and as she grew older, her hair started to curl at the ends just like her father's. Unsurprisingly, they had similar personalities too. She was probably the most educated six year old when it came to personal and public hygiene.

And when Reina's little brother was born, you swore they could be twins. That is, if you ignored the eight year age gap between them. Akimitsu, like his sister, took after Kiyoomi. He had the same dark curly hair and sharp eyes as his father, but one difference between him and his sister was that he had a much more outgoing personality. Even at six months old, he was already smiling, laughing, pointing and waving at everyone he passes by.

Today was no different. Strapped to his father's chest, Akimitsu was excitedly pointing towards his older sister practising volleyball in front of him and babbling incoherently. Next to him, the one and only Miya Atsumu was seated on the bench watching his twin boys practice their volleyball skills with Reina. You watched as your husband fished out a pack of tissues and wiped away the drool on his baby's chin.

"Dude, what's up with your sets today? Even Reina can't spike your shit sets and she's a better spiker than me!" Ryūjin exclaimed, pointing accusingly at his brother.

"Shut yer trap, Ryū! Yer just jealous 'cause my sets are still better than yours!" Ryōta retorted. Turning to his friend, he apologised, "Sorry, Reina, I'll work on my sets."

Reina scrunched her face in slight annoyance but acknowledged her friend.

"Y'know, Omi-kun, yer daughter somehow looks even more like you when she does that," Atsumu chortled.

Confused, Kiyoomi looked up at the blonde setter. "Does what?"

"THAT!" Atsumu screeched, pointing at Kiyoomi's face, which was, of course, scrunched up like his daughter's. Kiyoomi hurriedly covered his son's ears at the sheer volume of Atsumu's outburst.

"Will ya keep it down? My kid's gonna go deaf at this rate," Kiyoomi huffed, glaring at Atsumu. The latter sheepishly apologised.

"But for real though, your kids are basically your clones," Atsumu continued, "Guess ya don't have to worry about 'em not bein' yours, right?"

That earned him a hard slap on the back of his head by both you and Kiyoomi.

"THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?" Atsumu cried, rubbing the back of his head to relieve the pain.

"Excuse me, sir, what are you insinuating?" You spouted, glaring at him. For all the years you had known him — since high school, to be exact —Atsumu had never failed to come up with the most insensitive lines.

"I'm just sayin'! It's cute that yer kids look so much like you!" Atsumu sulked.

"No shit they're mine, baka," Kiyoomi grumbled, the annoyed scrunch once again making an appearance on his face.

Hearing a fit of giggles, you all turned to Akimitsu who was pointing at Atsumu with a gummy smile on his face.

"Ba...Baka!"

The six month old happily clapped and cheered as Atsumu was left dumbfounded.

a/n: sakusa’s children would 100% inherit his curly hair YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE like it’s literally so cute. they’d have the same scrunched face when they’re annoyed AND IT'S FREAKING ADORABLE anyway i titled this one ctrl C ctrl V for obvious reasons HAHA

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[hesperisms]

// The Alphabet of Sylus

"You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine."

// summary: my attempt at the lewd Alphabet A-to-Z of Sylus.

// content warnings: 18+ (mdni), the whole thing is lewd, says so on the tin.

// a/n: goes without saying, but these are just my personal headcanons around Sylus. yours may be different and that's A-OK.

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

A // Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Sylus knows he can lose himself a little during sex and get a bit rough, which can hurt because he's so big. Because of this, his aftercare is immaculate - it's so important to him to make it up to you afterwards. He will wait as long as you both can stand it to pull out of you, because sleeping inside you is his favorite place to be in the whole universe. He'll get up and draw you a steaming hot bath scented with fragrant oils and then come back to carry you bride-style and lower you into the tub himself. He'll slide in behind you and snuggle your back against his chest, soaping you down and kissing any marks he left on your throat.

B // Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner): Sylus' favorite body part isn't really a body part per se, it's his voice. He loves the effect his voice has on you, how the tiniest little thing whispered can set your pulse quickening and your cheeks flushed red. His favorite body part of yours is your wrists...he loves the delicate strength to them, the way they flex when your fists are wrapped around the butt of a gun, but he cannot get over how easily they melt under his palms when he traps your hands over your head.

C // Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): Lucky for you because he's so well-endowed, Sylus is an oozer. He leaks a lot of precum and it's very pale, almost translucent. When he cums, it's somehow always so hot that it feels like it's searing your body, branding him onto you and leaving a deeper mark each time. He tastes slightly sweet with a slight edge of muskiness to him.

D // Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): He knows the intimate details of your shared lifetime together; your past experiences, and while in this timeline you surprise him a lot, what never changes is the way your body reacts to his when you're alone together in the dark...

E // Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): Sylus has had dalliances before, but they were people attempting to sleep their way into his good graces for his influence and power. You're the first time he's had a relationship that is more than just physical, where he actually cares about you emotionally. Due to the nature of his previous relationships, he can tend to be a selfish lover and be a greedy with his affections.

F // Favorite position (this goes without saying): Sylus loves you in a mating press, your knees up over his elbows or his shoulders, getting as deep inside you as he possibly can, right up close nose to nose with you staring into your eyes as he bottoms out inside you.

G // Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): Sylus mocks you all the time, but never in the moment. When you're being intimate with him, trusting him with your body and your pleasure he takes it incredibly seriously. He treats you like his matriarch, his other half, and he wouldn't dream of doing anything to ruin those moments with you - he banks them away in his memory for when his work needs to keep him separated from you.

H // Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): Sylus is impeccably groomed and wears a cologne with notes of cedarwood, pomegranate, tangerine and a slight hint of musk. It's a dominant, masculine smell with just the slightest smoky sweetness to it and it reminds you of his kisses after he's been drinking gin fizzes and smoking cigars. He waxes, preferring to just rid his body of hair quickly and be done with it and to be honest, he kind of enjoys the momentary sting of the wax strip.

I // Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): It depends on if you're just having sex to satisfy a need, or if he's seducing you to satisfy his longing for you. If it's sex for need, he's dominant, confident, strong; he'll wrap his strong hands around your throat while he pounds you down into the bedsheets and love every second of your screaming his name. If he's having a moment of weakness and is lost in his memories of you and longing for his beloved? There's no one more gentle, he'll caress your cheek, peck kisses across your eyelids, cradle his arms around you like a cocoon until you feel like the two of you are the only things that exist.

J // Jack off (masturbation headcanon): Being somewhat long-distance with you, Sylus will masturbate with you, whether you know he's joining you or not...If you're home alone, playing with yourself in the dark and Mephisto reports back? Sylus will tune in through his cameras and watch you, trying to time it so that he cums with you. He's also open to phone sex with you when you engage and if you send him teasing pictures of yourself fresh out of the shower or lying around naked in bed pouting that you miss him, he'll send you back videos of him rubbing himself hard through his pants. He's shameless about his desire for you.

K // Kink (one or more of their kinks): Sylus loves to cum inside you, it's all he wants to do, he hates wearing condoms (though he'll never argue if you insist), and he loves mirror sex, whether it's sitting behind you with his legs locked around yours to keep your thighs spread, forcing you to watch as he pleasures you or just catching his own reflection and the way his hips clench when he's getting close to release, he loves it...it's probably an offshoot of his voyeurism from his time spent watching you through Mephisto's eyes, but he's addicted.

L // Location (favorite places to do the do): Sylus will take you any where, any time that you'll have him. He'd bend you over Jenna's desk in Unicorns HQ if you asked him to, but it has to be on your terms.

M // Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): Sylus gets incredibly turned on by your trust and submission to him, any time you're in a situation where you're putting yourself in his hands, he is fighting the urge to run with that consent and go wild exploring every inch of your body and marking it as his. Every time he's intimate with you, he's re-branding you, re-claiming you as his.

N // No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Sylus would do just about anything you asked him to sexually if you were genuine with your request, he's very emotionally mature and honest with you so if you came to him with a request to try something, he'd do it for you, but he draws the line at sharing you. No threesomes, no cucking, you are his and his alone.

O // Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Sylus loves to eat your pussy, but he can be very intense and when he loses control it can be overstimulating and too much; it rare that he'd only eat you out, he's normally always got his fingers inside you at the same time, trying to stretch you and prepare you for his size. He's too big for you to suck properly, but he's fine with you jacking him off while you lick and suck on the tip because he's incredibly sensitive.

P // Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): The pace Sylus takes with you depends on the situation and the mood that you're both in; if you're both just horny and filling a need he'll be fast and rough with you, but if he's really in his feelings making love to you he'll be very slow and tender with you. Because he knows he can lose control he's very careful to let you set the pace, but he can't help but have a little smug satisfaction if you need his help to make it to the bathroom afterwards because your legs are too shaky.

Q // Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): They're not his choice, because Sylus likes to stay inside you until he's ready for another round and pick up right where he left off on pleasuring you, but if you beg for a quickie, he'll acquiesce and give it to you.

R // Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): Sylus is very open to experimenting with you if you want to ask for something and he's prone to high risk behavior with you; he could care less if he got you pregnant, because you're his and he wants you forever, so he'll happily cum inside you as many times as you let him - he doesn't care if you're taking a pill or have an implant, that's irrelevant to him and his desire to be with you.

S // Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): He's in peak physical fitness, so he can last. Each round with Sylus is a solid 20-30 minutes of intense sex, unless you tap out sooner because you feel like he's bruising your cervix and even then, he'll swap to going down on you and using his hands on you instead.

T // Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): After hearing you moan his name via Mephisto one night, a black wooden box appeared at the end of your bed one night. Sitting inside it on a bed of decadent red velvet was a polished black glass dildo suspiciously matching Sylus' exact size, right down to the veins. You'd blushed furiously when you realised, wondering how he could have commissioned this for you with a straight face, but it doesn't stop you from using it when he's away on business trips.

U // Unfair (how much they like to tease): Sylus loves to edge you; every single session he edges you on at least 1 orgasm, he can't help himself, the way you beg and plead to cum just sounds so delicious to him and he loves the control.

V // Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): Sylus can get vocal, he growls, he snarls, he purrs your name so seductively in your ear and he talks you through your pleasure, constantly asking you to voice for him that you're loving what he's doing to you, or telling you how good you feel wrapped around him.

W // Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): He knows you think he has a terrible singing voice, but nothing makes him happier than when he's lying inside you still and you're drifting off to sleep in his arms and he's singing you a soft little melody of a lullaby.

X // X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): ...come on now, we've seen this man. Sylus is as caked up in the front as he is in the back, there's no need for an xray this man has never hid his size a day in his adult life; he's a shower, not a grower, he's 7 inches soft, 8.5 inches hard and girthy - it takes Sylus using 3 fingers on you to stretch you out ready enough to take him.

Y // Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): Sylus has a very high sex drive because he's very testosterone-fueled, but he's respectful enough to hold himself back to match your personal drive; if you give him the means and opportunity though, he will make sure you don't leave his bed except to eat or pee for an entire weekend.

Z // Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): Falling asleep inside of you or with you on his chest is the only time Sylus finds it easy to fall asleep quickly, but he's still an apex predator; he sleeps lightly and only after he's seen you fall asleep first and knows you're safe.

[mistymisfit]

Dirty A-Z headcanon game  

MINORS DNI!!!

Implied that reader is shorter than Jason. Most are GN reader, except the pet names (princess and ma) but other than no specified gender :)

My personal headcanons. Sorry everyone, I don't think he'd be all that kinky, he just needs some affection fr. I have a Dick Grayson version on my drafts, and he is a slut so wait for that one lol.

Finished this draft trying to get out of writer's block, I don't think it worked lol.

edit: fixed some typos

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

On nights where he spends too much time away from you, and he starts missing your your kisses, your warmth, your jokes, your hands on him, and his on you, he's forced to take out the big guns. That encrypted (mentioned in point P) folder he keeps as protected as he can for your safety. It has a few videos, some of them more intense, others more goofy with you two laughing. The one he watches the most is the one that begins with him telling you to say something to check the sound and you reply with "I love you" a sweet smile on your lips. The camera's then hurriedly left on the nightstand, and your giggling ensues with him kissing you all over your face.

B - Bondage (do they like it? do they not? do they prefer to be the one being tied or the one doing the tying?)

Absolutely against being the one tied up, past traumas and all, he needs to be able to move for his peace of mind. Completely opposite opinion if you're the one being tied, especially if he's tying your wrists with his costume's garrote (ribbons).

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?)

Very much into you crying, and he definitely feels conflicted about it. He wants nothing more than seeing you happy and safe, so why is his dick getting hard when he sees tears streaming down your pretty face? Also, yes, he cries during sex!!! It's not always, but sex is such a vulnerable moment for him--something he struggles with very much, so he can't help but shed a few tears. And you're also into it. Truly matching each other's freaks.

D - Dominance (do they prefer to dominate, or be dominated? do they have experience as a Dom? Do they have a Dom that they trust already? What kind of things do they enjoy as/with their Dominant partner?)

Prefers dominating, low-key a control freak, and is obsessed with the amount of trust you have on him. If he's letting you take control, it's in a more "let me take care of you, baby" way. On some occasions, more often than he'd like to admit he enjoys it more when you both refuse to let the other take charge, usually happens after an argument (see next point). He'd never admit it but he likes that more than anything.

E - Extra info (any other fetishes? feet? leather? role playing? blood? fantasies that they might want to experience not on this list?)

Marking: He would never hurt you, really. But there's something about his teeth leaving a mark on your skin, the whimper you let out every time he does it, and the soft kiss he leaves behind after he's done. God forbid he draws blood, it drives him up the wall. It's only fair game that he'd let you do it too, catching himself proudly smirking when he catches a glimpse of the scratches you left across his back. Or the time you bit his shoulder as you came, he followed shortly after. He's never lost his composure that fast before.

Role-Playing: It started with you joking once, playing damsel in distress and acting like he'd just saved you from a life-threatening situation, but it awoke something in him. Something something about calming his anxieties about not being able to keep you safe. He asked if you could do it more often, you nodded excitedly. If you knew it'd get him so riled up, you'd put yourself in danger earlier. Would love to fuck in his Red Hood get up but he thinks it'd be too impersonal to you--you'd agree in a second if he asked.

Praise kink: He needs you to tell him he's good, that you want him. You told him "I need you, Jay," and he's never taken his clothes off so fast. Most times it's not sexual; he just loves hearing you tell him he's doing a good job.

Make up sex: Jason likes seeing you mad, something about how feisty you get and how you could be as stubborn as him turns him the fuck on. He likes how rough you both get, gripping each other's clothes, hair pulling and biting harder than what you two usually do. Sometimes he starts arguments for this sole reason.

F - Food play (do they like using food in the bedroom? are there any foods they prefer to use during sex or foreplay? any they’d like to try?)

He got hit with fear toxin one time, you spent a couple of days taking care of him until he came down from a nasty fever. A side effect to the antidote Alfred and Bruce couldn't work out yet. You spoon-fed him soup, and he swears he fell in love with you all over again. If he hadn't been so sick he would've knocked over the plate and kissed you senseless.

Also! He likes watching you eat whatever he cooks. Sometimes he waits for you at home with dinner ready, well aware you always come back home starving. Most times, too hungry to cook a decent meal. So watching you sigh when you take your first bite, telling him how good it is, how much of a good boyfriend he's for doing this for you, his blush reaches his ears. He's just winning his way to your bedroom heart with food.

G - Group sex (would they have a threeway? four? an orgy? do they put on a show for spectators? or do they like to keep it just between them and their partner?)

Another no for him. Jason's not good at sharing, he's way too possessive to share your attention. And honestly, it'd hurt his ego a little bit if you were to suggest it. He's insecure, so his mind would instantly go to "I'm not enough"

H - Humiliation (does degradation and insults get them hot? do they get off on humiliating someone else? what kind of humiliation is good for them?)

See point E. He's too in love to call you a bitch. He's not exactly opposed to the idea of having kids with you someday if you wanted to, and he just can't imagine calling the future mother of his kids a whore. However, he's not past calling you a "fucking brat" if you keep on teasing him or using a mocking tone every once in a while like "Aw, is it too much? Thought you said you were a big girl"

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.)

Not specifically into spanking but has slapped your ass before, heart skipping a beat when his hand left an imprint on your skin. You could awake something in him if you tried, for sure.

J - Jelly (what kind of lube are they using? is it flavored? have they tasted it? do they prefer to use something other than real lube during sex?)

He's a big boy, so you could imagine what he's got under his pants is proportionate to the rest of him. He'd use it to make sure he won't hurt you, but he's more old fashioned prefering making you cum a couple times to prep you.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?)

He's a hungry kisser, knocks the air out of your lungs, grabbing your face, knocking things over as you take a step back not to fall type of kiss. Tied in with C, he likes kissing the tears off your face. Most random spots he likes to kiss are the back of your knees and your ankles when he puts them on his shoulders. If he's sitting down and you're standing in between his legs, petting his head, he'll most likely kiss your stomach.

He has a spot, his pulse point on his neck, not easy to reach considering his height, so he has to be in a horizontal position for you to reach. You kiss him there, and he melts instantly. And his back, if you manage to cuddle as the big spoon and start pressing kisses across his back, he could pass out right there. Matter of fact, any kiss from you makes him melt, he's touch starved, so any contact you initiate flusters him.

L - Lighting (are the lights on? off? do they have some kind of mood lighting set up?)

At first, off. You have to work your way until he's comfortable enough to have some dim lights on. He's too afraid to scare you off with his scars.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?)

Scratching, biting, are all fair game with him. He's a bit feral like that. Doesn't like being spoken down; his ego's fragile enough from all his own self-hatred. Being bossed around? He's almost incapable of following orders, this man had no figure of authority before Bruce when he was a kid.

N - Not yet (orgasm delay? orgasm denial? do they tell their partner not to touch themselves for a certain amount of time or under certain circumstances? do they delay or deny other things like bathroom usage or food? do they need to beg first? do they like being denied / delayed?)

He's tried, seriously, but all you had to do was beg a little and look at him with those glassy eyes, and his resolve faded away fast. He's unable to say no to you; you know it and often use it to your advantage.

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Yes, on his car, the bat-mobile he stole once just out of spite (Bruce was well aware he took it- and traumatized to find out his adoptive son's reasons) and against his bike on an empty parking lot (that one was pure wish fulfillment for him)

P - Photography (are cameras allowed in the bedroom? do they send nudes? do they ask for nudes? would they ever record themselves having sex / being caught up in a sexual act?)

For safety reasons he doesn't keep any pictures or videos on any phone (he's got many). HOWEVER, he has a couple of encrypted-not even Babs wouldn't be able to hack- videos of you two for times he stays away from you for long.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

He whimpers!!! he acts though but he's a whimperer!!! It takes a while before you warm him up to make more noise, he was shy at first. On the other hand if you were quiet he'd worry, he need some encouragement to know he's doing good.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

Jason's not really one for one night stands, he has problems with vulnerability--and intimacy as a consequence. He's more of a spur of the moment guy; everything else he does is planned-- stopping some villains' plans, striking a drug trade deal--, so he's glad he gets to be more spontaneous with you.

Once you're in an established relationship, and he knows you're okay with him being blunt, he'd straight up ask you. "Can we have sex when I get back home?" you got a text while he was out on patrol; you blushed and giggled before telling him "yeah" and "wake me up if I fall asleep." he replied with a smiley emoji.

"Babe?" His hands held your hips, correcting your posture. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body behind you, and there's no reason why he should be sticking this close to you. He insisted on teaching you some self-defense moves, so now you were both sweaty, the furniture in your shared apartment moved so you could have more space to move freely. Sure, he could've brought you down to the cave, but this was more private and intimate. You hummed in response, eyes looking up at him. "Wanna ruin the carpet?"

Or he catches you bending over, your arms resting on the kitchen island, mindless watching something on your phone. He stands behind you, hands grabbing your hips. You look back, and you're about to ask him what he's doing when he wins, saying "Haven't had you like this in a while, you busy right now?"

S - Sleepy sex (do they give oral to wake their partner up? do they like receiving oral to wake up? do they like fucking their partner awake? being fucked awake? how about being fucked to sleep at night? do they have lazy morning sex?)

Being fucked awake would probably be too overwhelming for him. And no matter how many times you told him it's okay, he probably wouldn't like that doing it to you. BUT he's very much waking you up kissing you so you could have lazy, half asleep, sex. In his head, it feels extra intimate, even more if he does it in the attempt to make you stay in bed with him a little longer.

T - Top or bottom (self explanatory…)

U - Underwear (what kind of underwear do they put on in the morning, if any at all… do they own any sexy underwear or lingerie?)

In your opinion, the sexiest underwear he could wear is a towel right after he showers, hair still dripping water onto his chest. It makes you come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his uncovered torso as he looks for clean clothes in his drawer. You stand on your tip toes to press your lips between his shoulder blades. He turns around, smirking and already knows exactly what you want.

"We'll get the bed wet" He reasons

"Don't care" You smile, fingers tracing his v line stopping where the towel starts.

V - Voyeurism (do they like to watch, or are they more hands on? are they more of an exhibitionist?)

Wouldn't like anyone seeing you two in that situation. Even if he convinced you to have sex in a risky place most times, he's already gotten rid of any possible outcome where you two end up on a certain list. Also watching? He can barely keep his hands to himself around, in a sexual way or not. He's just touch starved like that.

W - Water (pool sex? bath / shower sex? are they into watersports at all?)

I may be biased but I don't really think he'd be into watersports lmao.

Shower sex is a yes, he particularly loves when he comes back from patrol and you get in the shower with him, helping wash the blood off. He's always a bit shaken when he comes home, thinking about his own mortality and how fragile life is, and it ends up with something else. Just to feel alive. Jason's very fond of moments where you run him a bath, in the hopes of calming his nerves and the soreness in his muscles. You'd sit next to him, outside the tub, washing his hair. He'd always manage to find a way to convince you into getting in and riding him.

X - X-dressing (do they crossdress as a part of teasing / foreplay? does crossdressing turn them on? turn their partner on? do they prefer to do it or watch their partner crossdress instead? do they use other costumes? cat ears, tails, etc?)

Not exactly cross dressing lol. But if he catches wearing any of his clothes, it's over for him. You put on his Red Hood muzzle once, and he couldn't get it out of his head for a month straight.

Y - Yes, Master (what kinds of names are used during sex? do they like being called master / mistress, daddy, etc…? what names do they call their partner?)

Him to you: Sweet pet names, most used are princess, pretty, baby, him calling you ma with a breathless sighs makes you want to jump his bones--again.

You to him: Handsome, if you want to see his entire face turn red. He also likes hearing you moan his name. My love, you called him this once while sitting on his lap and felt his attitude change, clearing his throat, and moving you away from his crotch.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?)

Like mentioned before, his pulse point on his neck. If he's mad at you, all you have to do is trace your fingers under his shirt and over the hem of his pants, and he's already forgotten why he was pissed off to begin with. You were play fighting with him once and dragged your teeth through his bicep, threatening to bite if he didn't let you go, he didn't silently waiting for you to sink your teeth into his skin. Even hoped for a scar, a permanent mark that didn't come from violence but affection.

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

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

Hawkins High, September 1984

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

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

You stare a lot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, you wish you could kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

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

“Billy Hargrove?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prom Night, May 1985

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

Except, well.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

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

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

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

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

“I’m not sulking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

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

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

“Kelly Palmer.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“STEVE??!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

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

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

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

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

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?”

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

What did you say? What did he say?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like it a lot. 

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

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made it up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

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

Family Video, March 1986

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, right after I last saw you?”

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

“I wish.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And again.

And again.

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

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

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

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

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

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

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

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

Logan Sawyer.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my fucking god.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

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

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

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

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

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

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

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

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

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

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

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

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

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

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

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

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

“You just said-”

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

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

“It was fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t have to ask him twice.

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

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

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

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

“The price.”

“The price.”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want him to do it all over your body.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

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

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

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

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

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

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

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

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Jiaoqiu

The 2.5 story quest destroyed me, so I wrote this to cope. This is probably the most detailed and longest alphabet I have written so far. Jiaoqiu ended up being kinkier than intended, but I hope you guys enjoy. These HCs take place some time before 2.5.

Jiaoqiu x fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

As a doctor, Jiaoqiu is good at spotting any signs of discomfort in your body and knowing what to do to help you feel better. He usually runs a warm bath with herbs for both of you to soak in to alleviate any soreness or fatigue and clean yourselves up. If a bath is not an option, he’ll wipe you down with a damp cloth at the very least.

Jiaoqiu carefully massages any parts of your body that have been restrained or forced into one position for too long to stimulate blood flow. He's gentle with you, carefully caressing your face and kissing any mark he left on your skin as if saying sorry for being too rough on you. He also makes you drink water to keep yourself hydrated.

He’s very caring toward you but can underestimate or ignore his aches and pains, so he appreciates it when you return the favor and take care of him, too.

If he’s not too tired, Jiaoqiu also whips up a simple but delicious meal for you to enjoy and regain your stamina if either of you has business to attend to afterward.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jiaoqiu likes to joke that he’s perfect all over—from his looks, down to his abilities— but if he were to be serious, the foxian would choose his hands as his favorite body part. Despite the war making him doubt his worth as a healer, the fact remains that his hands saved the lives of many soldiers. Moreover, his hands allow him to cook delicious and nutritious dishes for others to enjoy and seeing their happiness at eating his food brings Jiaoqiu a sense of satisfaction. Being able to touch and caress your body is also a huge plus, so how could he not favor his hands?

On you, he adores your face. More specifically, your facial expressions. Don’t get him wrong, he finds you very pretty from head to toe, but Jiaoqiu simply loves the various expressions you make. Whether it’s the way your face lights up in delight when eating his cooking, or how your brows scrunch and lips purse into a thin line while glaring at him for teasing you, or the way you wince in pain when sampling his super spicy dishes, or the soft way you look at him when saying you love him—Jiaoqiu adores them all. Even if you’re not very expressive, Jiaoqiu will try his best to get a reaction out of you because he likes seeing the different sides of you. Plus, the expressions you make when orgasming or when he pleasures you also fill him with pride. He likes knowing he makes you feel good, and that these cute faces of yours are reserved for his viewing pleasure only.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jiaoqiu’s semen is an off-white color and has a jelly-like consistency. His cum tastes a bit salty.

Jiaoqiu enjoys filling you with his cum or painting your skin with it (especially your lower belly or back), though he does have a slight preference for ejaculating inside you, be it your pussy or mouth. He also enjoys pouring his cum onto bits of good and feeding them to you (more on that in the kinks section).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jiaoqiu won’t tell you outright, but he has a keen nose and can smell where you are in your menstrual cycle. Your needy scent during your most fertile period increases his horniness, so he tends to get more handsy with you during that time.

He can also smell when you are about to get your period, and preps for it by cooking dishes infused with herbs meant to alleviate cramping and pain.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Before joining the war as a medic, Jiaoqiu did have one partner he was intimate with, though the relationship did not last long. As such, he has a bit of experience. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough for Jiaoqiu to know what to do.

Even so, he pays careful attention to your guidance and reactions when having sex. He may have experience, but he knows each person has different preferences, and he wants to learn all the ways you like being touched so he can cater to your needs.

As a doctor, he’s very knowledgeable about the body, so he knows which areas can bring great pleasure when stimulated just right. There’s a good chance he will find an erogenous zone on your body that you didn’t even know you had.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jiaoqiu really likes positions where you’re on top. Cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, lotus, etc… are all ones he likes because he can sit back and let you do most of the strenuous work. He keeps his hands securely on your hips and helps guide you up and down his cock, admiring the view of your body bouncing on his lap.

Additionally, he is fond of spooning. Laying on your sides with his elbow under one of your knees, hiking your leg up in the air while he leisurely thrusts into you is both comfy and hot for him. It also allows him easy access to kiss and mark your neck or shoulders, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

Jiaoqiu also enjoys upright doggystyle and pronebone. Regular doggystyle is fine, but he likes to press your back flush against his chest, wrap his arms around your waist, and rest his chin on your shoulder so he can watch how your jaw goes slack and eyes glaze over while he fucks you nice and deep. After all, he loves to watch your expressions of pleasure.

The foxian is a bit possessive, particularly when he’s feeling jealous or horny from smelling you during your fertile window. Pronebone is a great position for him because it makes him feel like you’re his and his alone. Trapping you under his weight, fucking you deeply while marking your neck, shoulders, and back in bite marks gives him a primal sense of satisfaction.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Jiaoqiu can be a little goofy or serious depending on your needs, but he’s typically a nice blend of both. He tries to keep the mood lighthearted with an occasional harmless taunt or tease to get a reaction out of you, but he doesn’t overdo it. He approaches sex responsibly, and does his best to relax you and take your feelings seriously. It’s important to him that you enjoy the experience, after all. If a little joke or a whispered reassurance helps you feel more at ease, then he’ll do whatever is necessary to make you comfortable.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a bush of curly pink hair down there that he keeps neatly trimmed, but it lacks the ombré of the rest of his hair. It’s one solid, dark pink hue.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jiaoqiu isn’t one to wax poetic during sex, but he does bring his version of romance into it. You can feel his love for you mainly through his actions. His touches are always gentle, never rough or bruising. His lips leave kisses all over your skin, covering your face, neck, shoulders, and back in a branding of love.

Jiaoqiu always holds you close to him, desiring the feeling of your bodies pressed flush together as you make love. Whether you’re on top or he is, his hands gravitate toward your body and trace the contours of your figure, admiring how he can call someone as beautiful as you his lover. He didn’t think he would fall in love again after the war left him so numb and afraid of attachment, but you and Feixiao helped to heal his wounded heart, for which he is forever grateful. He holds you in high regard for you made him feel alive with your mere presence and touched his heart deeply where he thought nothing but ashes remained.

Jiaoqiu likes to cup your face when you have sex and trace his thumb along your cheek in a tender gesture. Even if you look like a drooling mess from what he’s doing to you, he gently cradles your face and murmurs how cute you look before leaning in for a sweet kiss. The healer is always loving toward you, even while engaging in kinkier play.

On the occasions where you two have romantic sex, Jiaoqiu lets his guard down and exposes his vulnerable side. He seeks comfort in your closeness, treating your body with gentleness and reverence, and feels overwhelmed in a good way when you treat him just as tenderly in return. Times like these result in slow lovemaking and whispered “I love you”s where he holds your hand and touches his forehead to yours, your gazes meeting. During such moments, Jiaoqiu is more vocal about his feelings, murmuring quiet compliments and praises about how happy he is to be with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jiaoqiu has a healthy sexual appetite, and masturbates about three times a week, mainly as a way to relieve stress. That number went down once he entered a relationship with you since he finds sex more fun than jacking off by his lonesome.

When he wants to masturbate, Jiaoqiu chooses moments when he’s completely alone, though he still muffles his voice just in case. He likes to start slow, leisurely pumping his cock to stoke the flames of desire in his abdomen, before speeding up and gripping his dick tighter. He sometimes uses toys to help him reach release faster, like vibrators or warming lube for the added sensation.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jiaoqiu is a switch. He’s comfortable being dominant and taking the lead in the bedroom, enjoying having you at his mercy. Likewise, he can be submissive and find relief in relinquishing control and being taken care of, but can be a bit bratty as a sub due to his sharp tongue.

As a foodie, it’s no surprise that he enjoys food play. Garnishing your body in tasty morsels and drizzling sauces (not spicy) over your skin makes you look like a delicious treat. Like a hungry cat, he licks his lips before diving in to consume the food off your body, licking up every crumb. He loves your body, and he loves good food, so having both at the same time is like heaven.

Aside from decorating your body with food, he also enjoys the idea of covering food in your or his cum. He likes gathering up some of your slick onto a bite of food, like a strawberry, before consuming it. Similarly, he likes smearing some of his ejaculate onto food and feeding it to you with his cum acting as garnish.

Along with food play, Jiaoqiu is into temperature and sensation play. He likes blindfolding you and watching your reactions to him running feathers, ice cubes, warm towels, his tail, and many other textured items along your skin and erogenous zones. He’s also a fan of receiving this treatment since his other senses become heightened with the loss of his sight, and the stimulation feels novel and exciting. If you stimulate his erogenous zones using this method, he’ll become aroused quite quickly.

Additionally, Jiaoqiu enjoys mirror sex. As much as he loves reverse cowgirl and doggystyle, these positions obscure your pretty face from him, and it’s a pity because he loves your facial expressions. The perfect solution to his dilemma is to have sex in front of a full-length mirror. It allows Jiaoqiu to see how your face slackens with pleasure, how you bite your lip to muffle a moan, or how your eyes roll back when he hits a good spot. He doesn’t want you to miss out on how ravishing you look, so he cups your chin and gently guides your head to make you look in the mirror and see the debauched state you’re in, murmuring for you to watch how well you take his cock.

Another one of his kinks is hair-pulling. He enjoys it when you lightly tug on his hair, whether when he’s got his face buried between your legs or during sex. He sometimes lets out a soft growl when you do that.

Jiaoqiu enjoys a bit of pain. He mainly prefers things like biting, hair pulling, or electric shocks to get that high, but can handle whipping and spanking if you’re gentle with him. Despite his attraction to pain, he doesn’t enjoy rough treatment. He can also enjoy light choking (receiving) provided you can do it safely and build up trust with him.

To add to the long list, Jiaoqiu also likes light bondage with scarves or handcuff (giving and receiving), and if you’re willing, he’s interested in trying shibari on you. Some of his other kinks are biting and marking, edging, blindfolds, and dirty talk.

However, not every session with Jiaoqiu is this kinky. He does enjoy vanilla sex where you can both just relish in the intimacy and romance of the connection, sharing sweet kisses and tender touches.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Jiaoqiu prefers having sex at home where things can be kept private and he has access to all kinds of equipment to spice up your sessions. He wouldn’t risk doing it in other places and potentially getting caught since he has an image to maintain as Feixiao’s retainer.

At home though, almost every room is fair game except the kitchen. Jiaoqiu considers the kitchen his workspace and doesn’t like the idea of having sex where he works to make medicine. Otherwise, places like the couch, office desk, and bathtub are all potential lovemaking spots, though he does prefer the bed since it makes it easy to cuddle and fall asleep afterward.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Usually, when you stroke Jiaoqiu’s ears, he feels a sense of peaceful relaxation, but if you rub the sensitive spot at the base of his ear or run your fingers along the rim of his ears just right, the pleasurable tingles can become arousing for him.

He also gets turned on by your obvious desire for him. Give him a few sensual caresses, whisper a tasteful innuendo in his ear, a lustful look, and his interest is piqued. He finds excitement in a sexually charged game of cat and mouse, regardless of which one of you is chasing or being chased.

Jiaoqiu can smell when you're ovulating. The scent is weak, but his sharp nose can pick up on when you're feeling horny, and it influences his libido. As mentioned previously, he can get more handsy with you during that time.

Another thing that arouses Jiaoqiu are your reactions to his teasing. If his teasing manages to fluster or arouse you, he’ll keep pushing your buttons to make you even more flustered. Something about your flushed cheeks, shallow breaths, and wavering voice makes him want to tease you more and get a greater reaction out of you. You look so cute when flustered, positively adorable, even. Just how much cuter would you look and sound if he touched your chest? Kissed your neck? Made you moan? Why don’t you show him, darling~?

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Absolutely no sharing. Jiaoqiu gets jealous easily, so threesomes get a hard no from him. He is also prideful, and dislikes being humiliated or degraded. It’s an instant turn-off for him.

Although he's okay with being hurt, he won’t do things that might harm you, such as asphyxiation, impact play, or knife play. He’s a healer—he could never bring himself to hurt you that way, even if you begged him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jiaoqiu loves eating not only hotpot but also pussy. He could spend hours between your legs, burying his tongue into your cunt and lapping at your slick. He wants to see you fall apart under his mouth, so he snakes one arm around your hips and pins them down, taking your clit between his lips. He softly sucks on it while deftly flicking his tongue over the bud, ears twitching when he hears you moan.

To truly bring you over the edge, Jiaoqiu slips two fingers into your dripping cunt and curls them to find that roughly textured spot he knows will make you keen for him. The dual assault of his mouth and fingers never fails to make you see stars as you orgasm, and Jiaoqiu opens his eyes to soak in the sight of you unraveling under his touch. It turns him on to see you feel this good because of him, and he can’t get enough of the experience, so he ends up eating you out for a while longer, making you come undone over and over until you’re tugging at his hair to spare you from the overstimulation.

He’s always breathless by the end, face glistening and dripping with your juices, but the look of desire in his golden eyes promises he’s not through with you. Not when you’ve got him so hard and aroused from watching you fall apart on his tongue.

If you want to return the favor, the foxian healer will be more than happy to watch you go down on him. When you blow him, Jiaoqiu tends to be more vocal, unable to fully hold back his soft sighs and strained moans. If you rub the base of his tail while sucking him off, he’ll buck into your mouth with a soft hiss of your name.

Jiaoqiu has a tendency to keep at least one hand on your head while you work your mouth along his cock, guiding your pace or gripping your hair when he feels his orgasm approaching. The closer he is to orgasm, the more he will squirm, running his hands through your hair, gently urging you to take him deeper or bucking his hips into your mouth. Jiaoqiu's usually sly smile gets replaced by a flushed, slack-jawed expression of pure pleasure, tail lashing in excitement behind him. However, he still tries to maintain his composure and murmurs gentle encouragements and praises so you'll keep going, before his words get cut off by a choked moan as he spills down your throat. He also goes weak in the knees when you suck his testicles.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jiaoqiu likes to take his time with foreplay, prolonging it for as long as possible, but for the actual act, he enjoys a more moderate pace. On a rare occasion, he might play around with the speed of his thrusts, going from moderate, to slow, to fast just to tease you, but overall, he likes to maintain a moderate and steady space. Not too slow to the point it feels teasing, yet not too fast so you won't wear yourselves out too quickly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

As mentioned above, Jiaoqiu likes to take his time with foreplay and draw out the session, but he can be convinced to go for a quickie if you show your strong desire for him. Though if either of you are horny enough to want a quick fuck, Jiaoqiu would prefer to settle it with oral sex.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jiaoqiu is willing to take risks in the bedroom to an extent. He’s eager to try new things to see if there’s something either or both of you can discover you like, but he isn’t willing to have sex in public places or get rough with you. He would much rather be the one treated roughly than hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This foxian healer doesn’t exercise much, so his stamina isn’t high. He lasts an average amount in bed and goes for only one round, but his foreplay is usually drawn out for quite a while, making the session lengthy. Sex is more than just the act of copulation, he says. Foreplay is just as important, if not more so.

If he’s under the effect of an aphrodisiac, then Jiaoqiu lasts another 1-2 rounds, but he becomes dead tired afterward and is likely to pass out quickly once it's over.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jiaoqiu owns a few toys for himself, mainly a bullet vibrator. The vibrating sensations against his cock and other erogenous zones provide a powerful stimulation that gets him going.

For you, he has a whole box of toys he want to try. Blindfolds, handcuffs, vibrators, dildos, anal plugs, electric wands, etc… He’s eager to test them out on you to see how you’ll react. Will introduce toys he thinks you might like into your sessions, though you don’t have to accept them if you don’t want them.

He’s not opposed to you using toys on him, particularly the electric wand, wax candles, and handcuffs. He might put up a fuss, but he does enjoy it when you play with and stimulate his body. Just make sure to properly care for him afterwards.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jiaoqiu loves teasing others, and you are no exception. He enjoys messing with you in your daily life to see your reactions, but he loves teasing you during sex even more. He teases you by tying you up and stimulating your sensitive spots with sex toys or feathers, giving you just enough pleasure to feel good but not enough to make you orgasm, until you’re writhing and begging for more stimulation. While fucking you, Jiaoqiu can also switch up the pace of his thrusts from moderate to slow or completely still just so he can hear your frustrated whines and watch you desperately push your hips back against his, before suddenly pounding into you at a quick pace.

Jiaoqiu is even better at verbal teasing, particularly while edging or fucking you silly. He might say “Oh my, there’s drool running down your chin. Does it feel that good?” Or “You’re dripping wet, dear. Can you feel how easily my fingers slide inside your pretty pussy? Aeons, you’re squeezing them so tightly, do you want me inside you that badly?” and the like.

If you decide to tease him back, it’s best that you’re nice about it. Jiaoqiu might kick up a fuss at first since he’s more used to teasing than being teased, but he can enjoy having you tie him up and run your hands along his body or stimulate him with sex toys. However, he doesn't take kindly to being edged for a long time because he gets impatient and frustrated easily for being denied. The next day, he'll cook a super spicy dish full of foods you dislike and makes you eat it as revenge, or he'll edge you to oblivion the next time you have sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jiaoqiu has two modes depending on who is in control. If he’s dominating, he’ll have better control of his voice and will let out grunts and soft moans. He also talks a lot, making teasing comments or talking dirty to rile you up.

If you’re dominating, he’ll be whinier. He lets out choked gasps, quiet hisses, and louder moans. Will also try to shake your control by responding with witty retorts to your teasing, but if you successfully maintain your authority, he’ll reluctantly submit and whine.

In either scenario, when he gets close to orgasm, his voice turns breathless and obtains a raspy quality, and he tends to call out your name.

Jiaoqiu is a huge fan of hearing your voice. Even if you're the quiet type, he does his best to make you moan louder because he loves hearing you feel good. If you moan his name, it riles him up so much that he has to resist the urge to cum on the spot. He really loves hearing you call his name in that wanton voice.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jiaoqiu knows how to make aphrodisiacs. If anyone’s watched The Apothecary Diaries where Maomao made aphrodisiacs, it’s similar to that. Jiaoqiu makes chocolate or chocolate-covered fruit (or another kind of dessert if you’re not a chocolate fan) with aphrodisiac properties. He likes the idea of using aphrodisiacs to occasionally spice up your sex life, but he only gives them to you with your explicit awareness and consent. He would never sneakily give it to you.

Jiaoqiu can adjust the dosage and potency to make the aphrodisiac quick or slow acting, stronger or weaker, etc… depending on the kind of sex you’re looking to have. It’s so much fun to watch how your gaze clouds over and your behavior changes once the aphrodisiac kicks in. He loves seeing you needy for him, it’s a massive turn-on. Whether you pin him down and have your way with him or become a needy, pliant mess for him to do with as he pleases—either outcome is fun. He just loves feeling desired by you and making you crave his touch. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has a slender cock with a slight upward curve and a couple of prominent veins along the underside. 11.5 cm (4.5 inches) in length and 10 cm (3.9 inches) in girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jiaoqiu has a healthy sexual appetite and craves sex a few times a week. However, due to his busy life as Feixiao’s retainer and personal healer, he’s sometimes too drained to engage in lovemaking as often as he’d like. Still, he tries to squeeze in some intimate time with you 1-2 times a week. Even if they're not frequent, the sessions last a long time due to his love for foreplay, so it is usually enough to satisfy his needs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he has nothing to attend to afterward, Jiaoqiu will help you clean up and then cuddle under the sheets. Even when he feels the pull of sleep, he resists it so he can enjoy the afterglow with you. During moments like these, he likes to chat about anything and everything, like how your day went, which dishes he plans to cook for you tomorrow, what hotpot place you should visit during a future date, the silly shenanigans he got up to with Feixiao and Moze that day, etc… it’s just a sweet time to catch up before you both succumb to sleep.

When settling in to sleep, Jiaoqiu likes to spoon. He’s fine with being the big or little spoon, though has a slight preference for big spoon because he likes burying his nose in your hair and smelling your scent. It’s comforting to him. If he senses you're about to fall asleep, he kisses your forehead and wishes you goodnight before hugging you closer and covering you with his tail.

He also lets you gently pet his ears or tail, finding the caresses soothing after a strenuous round of sex. If you’re gentle enough, your touch can relax and lull Jiaoqiu to sleep. Though it might be hard to tell he’s asleep at first glance due to the natural state of his closed eyes, his lack of verbal responses and slow, even breathing will give him away.

[byoldervine]

Writing Tips - Character Tone VS Narrative Tone

Sometimes characters will do things that they believe are good or bad, but the narrative tone tells you otherwise. It can be hard for some people to separate the character’s feelings and actions with what the writer is personally agrees with, so let’s look into how we can make that happen - which also works as a media literacy guide of what to look for when theorising - and only theorising - if a writer does or doesn’t agree with a character;

1. Tonal dissonance. If a character’s mood doesn’t pass the scene’s vibe check, chances are that the character is about to do something the narrative isn’t framing as a good thing. Say Character A is telling Character B a secret they learned from Character C. B’s response might be to be confused or concerned about the situation and ask why A would tell them. Mixing in other bad vibes, such as the weather or setting or lighting of the scene, can additionally make the audience question whether the action was right - and bonus points if they also have the offending character acting poorly in other ways or getting called out for previous wrongdoings in the same scene

2. Karma’s a writer. Actions have consequences both in and out of your story, and using them to reward or punish choices your characters make can indicate whether or not they were the right thing to do. Expand on that through character interactions if you want more nuance

3. Hide away. A character hiding their actions for whatever reason can indicate that, even subconsciously, they’re aware that it wasn’t something others would approve of. Make them sweat, have them struggle to keep it secret. Let it lead to more wrong moves in future to cover up for the original issue, such as one lie covering for another lie. Let it become more trouble than it’s worth until they have to accept that they messed up, even if a bit of stress was the only karma they get for it in the end

4. Pick a theme. Between overarching themes and individual character themes, you can potentially come up with some pretty good long term lessons; if the character acts against the themes and the lesson they’re going to amount to, punish them for straying in a way that’s appropriate and proportional to the act, then work it into some sort of lesson for the character to learn. For example, if the theme is nature vs nurture and you want the lesson to be being true to yourself rather than what others make you into, a character acting on nurtured traits rather than natural traits might be punished through pressures to conform and the act getting amped up as further conflicts between the two sides of themselves present

5. Recruit a mouthpiece. Which character would be the most likely to call out the offending party’s BS? See if you can come to a scenario where they’d do so - albeit making sure it all stays natural and in-character. Maybe they go about it in a way that doesn’t even hit the mark, but at least it’s been said so your audience has had it addressed. Remember; don’t just insert X random character and have them be uncharacteristically analytical, have it be someone who would already do that and word it in a way that fits their character voice. Above all the interaction needs to feel natural rather than forced