#cate gives advice

[radiant-reid]

hi cate! hope you're doing well <3

I'm trying to write a fanfic of Spencer, where are the reader's dislike each other in the beginning, especially Spencer. Like a serious 'enemies-to-lovers' trope-

In your opinion, what are some reasons Spencer would hate someone (with a burning Passion) who he doesn't really know that well yet?

ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS !!! probably my all-time favorite trope

here are my ideas;

Spencer sees too much of himself in someone else, maybe the qualities he dislikes in himself (this one was sent to me for an enemies-to-lovers request a little while ago but I think it deserves all the hype)

or they're complete opposites, like she's warm and people love her immediately and he is not like that at all, but he wishes he could be

her job !! maybe she's a defense lawyer for a criminal the BAU has caught, my personal fav. or she's a reporter reporting on one of the BAU's cases and she's nosey she could also be a politician and he hates politics

Spencer's been told he's the best for practically his whole life, so how does he react when someone else joins the BAU and everyone's obsessed with how smart she is ?? the answer is not well (this could also work well for rivals to lovers, especially if they competed as kids)

she is pretty, not a good reason to hate someone, but maybe she looks like the girl who broke Spencer's heart and made him unable to love anymore, or so he thought

literally a tiny miscommunication, maybe she shakes his hand and he really hates that or he took something she said sarcastically literal

something that's going badly in Spencer's life, like his drug issues or the mexico thing and he's just in a place where he's feeling bad and someone happy comes in and he wants that but he can't have it

[saltnsugarbear]

and you say once we're sober, we should just forget (18+)

summary: one time turns into two, two into three, three into four, and so on.. but it means nothing.

title from: "drinking games" by Sophie Cates

word count: 14.3k of filth my loves <3

content warnings: smut MDNI!! alcohol consumption, mentions of recreational smoking, afab genitalia, reader referred to with different pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart), petting/making out, maybe dubcon?? reader has a panic attack, vaginal fingering, angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please use condoms), m receiving handjob, cumplay/eating?

side note: edited/beta'd by my beloved olive! who also gave me some ideas for this, give her many smooches! also don't ask me when this takes place, i don't know, i just know they're in college maybe probably

Lip Gallagher has been your best friend since middle school.

He was easily one of the smartest kids in your year, so he was the obvious choice to ask for help on your homework. What you didn't expect was for him to offer to do all of your homework in exchange for cash.

Once you made it clear to him, you wanted to actually be able to do your homework and refused his offer (to his dismay and disbelief). In his finite wisdom he briefly thought you were going to offer a different form of repayment. When it became clear you weren't going to do that either, Lip was kind of at a loss. You both eventually came to the agreement that you would just meet at the library and work there, you being allowed to ask for help on something you didn't understand and him to work on other peoples homework in peace.

This dynamic went on for the two years you were in middle school and evolved once you reached high school. The Gallagher clan welcomed you with open arms when you started coming around more frequently and the dynamic was quickly established to include you in their family. They were sympathetic to your absent family and made sure to make it known you were welcome in their home no matter what. Your acceptance into the family only strengthened your bond with Lip through the years.

Even through shitty girlfriends (on his part) and tragic, almost-relationships (on your part), you had been attached at the hip for it all.

So it felt like a given when he finally decided what college to go to and you followed. It was the natural course of your relationship. One made a choice, and the other followed, no questions asked. That meant you had front row seats to his relationships with Amanda and Helene.

It stopped being your place to comment on Lips sexual relationships when you told him he should stop seeing Karen and when he found out you personally hadn't had a single sexual experience with anyone.

His reaction to your counseling caused a brief rift between the two of you. Lip had been frustrated with the conversation and stopped talking to you. You stopped talking to him for longer because of his decision that you couldn't give him advice, like a friend, simply because you hadn't slept with anyone the way he had.

Eventually, Lip came all but begging on your doorstep.

You never went more than 4 days in a fight. One of you always returned to the other with an apology in tow.

So when it had been a week and a half with no change, Lip started to get antsy. Fiona and Ian had been questioning him about it, and it was grating on his already frayed nerves.

Lip was desperate when it reached two weeks of not hanging out and his siblings asking about you. So, he took the hit to his pride and knocked on your door the night it reached two weeks. Your mom always worked the night rotations which gave you the house to yourself.

When the knock came that night you hoped it was a mistake and someone was knocking on the wrong door, or that they would go away.

They didn't.

Lip was nothing if he wasn't stubborn. So he persists on knocking on your door two more times, each time more aggressive than the last.

Once the third round of knocks stopped, you got up and peeked through the peephole. When you see Lip standing on the doorstep you're almost inclined to not open the door. But the tug at your heart when you see his hands stuffed in his coat pockets and collar pulled up to his ears has you unlocking the door before you can think about it.

"Fuckin' finally..." He mutters when he sees you in the doorway. His nose and cheeks are rosy, making his eyes look brighter. Lip slips inside both you can say anything and you're closing the door behind him out of habit.

"What are you doing here?" You cross your arms as Lip starts to peel off his gloves.

"Needed t'see you.. We need to talk.." He's shrugging off his jacket and tucking his gloves in with it.

You raise your eyebrows at him. He huffs a little and retreats further into the house, placing his jacket on the back of the couch. You have no choice but to follow him, if you want to hear this apology. Seeing Lip begin to fidget makes you nervous.

"I shouldn't- um- I shouldn't of made a- I was a dick." The way you scoff makes Lip glance at you. "It doesn't matter if you've never sleep with someone, I mean- I don't want you to- I don't not want you to just-"

His words make you raise your eyebrows again, he's starting to fumble his way through this apology.

"Whatever. I was a dick, I shouldn't of made such a big deal about whether or not you've fucked anybody. 'S not my business and you were just lookin out f'me. So.... I'm sorry.." He mumbles the last two words just barely under his breath.

Your brow is furrowed as you try and parcel through his apology. You don't get very long before he mutters, "Fuck it.."

Lip gives you very little time to react when he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. Your stomach twists as he brings his thumb to pull gently at your bottom lip. You let him take control of the kiss very easily.

He kisses you needily, eliminating any possible space between you both. You gasp softly into his mouth, grabbing onto Lip's shirt to keep you grounded. Lip's hands make their way from your face down to your hips, gently guiding you around to the other side of the couch.

Lip breaks the kiss to sit down and pulls you to straddle his lap. You bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to steady yourself. The feeling of something hard nudging against your core makes you inhale sharply.

The sharp ache of arousal isn't unfamiliar to you, however you've always had the chance to deal with it by yourself. It was also a feeling you had come to know whenever you would hang out with Lip since the summer.

Lip slides his hands up from where they were resting above your knees to guide your hips to roll over his bulge. The feeling pulls a surprised moan from your mouth that causes him to give you a smug look.

Your face feels flush as you bite down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. He brings his hand up to cradle your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

"This gonna be okay?" Lip whispers softly.

You nod a bit too quickly, rolling your hips softly to get some form of friction.

"Words, honey," Lip taps your cheek softly with his thumb.

"Yes," You nod again. "Yes, please, Lip."

"So polite," Lip whispers, placing a chaste kiss to your lips.

Lip takes his hand away from your face to take your hand from where it rests on his shoulder to the front of his jeans. He does the work of unbuttoning and unzipping for you, before he guides your hand to his waistband. He's gentle in the way he coaxes your fingers past the elastic and to the base of him.

You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, his hand is firm in the way it manipulates your hand around his shaft.

It's a tight fit in Lip's boxers. With both of your hands on his cock there's not much room to move. Your fingertips barely touch each other when they're wrapped around it that it leaves you a little dumbfounded.

"Can't uh- Can't move my hand..." You whisper, searching his face for some form of guidance.

Lip huffs before he removes his hand from yours. With his hand out of his boxers you have a little bit more wiggle room.

"Gonna have to listen to me for this one..." Lip's voice sounds strained, a flush working it's way up his neck. You nod, adjusting your hand slightly. Lip groans at the feeling and it makes you pause.

The way your eyes widen as you watch him intently has Lip fighting to urge to thrust his hips into your hand.

"Are you- That didn't hurt, did it?" You ask him, watching his face for any signs of discomfort.

"Uh-uh..." Lip breathes heavily, shaking his head. "Th-The opposite actually.."

You give an experimental squeeze where your fingers rest against the base of him, watching the way his mouth gapes open and his head falls back against the couch. Watching the way he reacts makes your chest swell with a sense of pride.

To test the waters even more, you move your hand slowly along the rest of him, reaching as far as the fabric of his boxers will let you before going back down to the base.

"Holy shit-" Lip chokes out. "Are y- are y'sure you've never down this before? Oh fuck-"

His hands have moved to gripping the couch cushions as he fights to keep his hips from bucking up into your hand. You nod, taking in the vision of Lip underneath you.

"Just uh- just keep doin, that... And uh.. Move your hand uh up and down it..." Lip mutters, a flush climbing up his neck from under his shirt.

You do as he says, moving your hand down along his cock. The palm of your hand collects the pre-cum that's leaking from the head, smearing it along his shaft as you move your hand back up.

Taking the grunt that Lip lets out as a good sign, you start to quicken your pace. You watch Lip fight back his own moans, softly rutting his hips into your hand.

"Want y'to- to take your thumb and-" Lip inhales sharply. "Take y'thumb and go over the top- fuck- over the head there's a- a slit and-" He cuts himself off with a groan as you follow his instructions.

You collect the pre-cum from the head of his cock and drag it up along him. You watch as his eyes roll into the back of his skull, his neck bared out to you as his head lays back against the cushion.

You're struck with the urge to kiss his neck, to bite softly at the vein along it. You're moving without thinking, licking a stripe along the vein. You can feel the rumble of a groan in his throat.

Encouraged, you bite softly at a spot under his jaw before placing a soft kiss to the spot.

You give an experimental squeeze near the head of Lip's cock, causing him to buck up into your hand. The movement jostles you slightly, making you squeak.

"S-sorry..." Lip pants out. He looks at you through half lidded eyes, his blown pupils surrounded by a thin blue ring. The view makes you adjust your hips slightly.

The way your hand moves feels almost like second nature, picking a pace that has Lip panting and groaning. You try and commit the sounds he's making to memory, wanting to remember them the next time you're by yourself.

It doesn't take you very long to find a combination of movements that has Lip writhing under you. Swiping your thumb over his slit and squeezing the head of his cock softly makes him groan loudly.

It doesn't take too long for Lip to start losing what little restraint he had on himself. He starts thrusting his hips up to meet the movements of your hand, both of you finding a rhythm to move in time.

"Shit- Gonna fuckin'- Can't-" The moan that Lip lets out tears through his chest. His hips give a hard jerk up and you feel the first few strings of his release into your hand. You still your movements, letting him use your hand to work himself through his release.

When you pull your hand from his boxers, you have the overwhelming urge to lick his release off of your fingers. The curiosity of what he tastes like takes over any other thoughts you could have, you can't help yourself.

Lip's chest is heaving as he watches you lick up the expanse of your fingers, collecting his cum off your fingers.

"Holy fuck-" Lip chokes out. He's quick to grab your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth and quickly replacing it with his own mouth.

The taste of nicotine and salt is intoxicating. Lip's tongue invades your mouth, and he groans at the taste of your mouth and his release.

"Gonna be the death of me..." Lip pulls away to kiss the edge of your mouth, letting you catch your breath.

His kisses are a poor attempt to distract from the movements of his hand slipping up your thigh, toying with the edge of your sleep shorts. His thumb slips past the hem, nudging softly up against the wet patch in your underwear.

"Look atcha... Fuckin' soaking from givin' me a handy.." Lip mutters against your skin. He can feel the way your skin warms at the comment and it makes him smirk.

Lip bites softly at your jaw as he applies more pressure with his thumb, the friction of the fabric making you whine.

When he removes his hand briefly you instantly miss the warmth from it. However he's quick to slip his hand past your waistband and into your underwear. The tips of his fingers skirt around your pulsing bundle of nerves, dipping lower slightly to tease you.

He gives your clit the briefest ghost of attention, lightly rubbing circles over it.

"Stop teasin'" You whine, pulling away to pout at him. "'S not nice, Lip.."

Your voice sounds pathetic to your own ears but you're too worked up to care right now. Your words give him whatever encouragement he needs as he dips his hand lower.

Lip swipes his fingers through your folds, thoroughly coating him in your arousal. The feeling of his finger prodding at your entrance makes you breathe in sharply. Lip maintains an intense eye contact with you as he slowly starts pushing his finger past your entrance.

The intrusion makes your jaw drop, just one of his fingers thicker than your own. His lips are soft against your jaw, letting you become accustom to the slight stretch. It's not very long until your softly grinding you're hips into his hand.

Lip takes the silent instruction, starting a steady pace of pumping his finger in and out of you. The first withdrawal and thrust is slow, taking care to make sure you're comfortable with the motions. The small tight circles Lip starts to rub against your clit make you gasp, turning your head to place a soft bite against his cheekbone.

The feeling of more of your slick coats Lip's finger as he continues his slow pace. You can feel the tip of his ring finger softly outlining where your two bodies connect. The gentle prodding makes you moan softly next to his ear. Lip groans softly against your neck in response, reveling in the way your walls clench around his finger. The gentle prodding against your hole makes you squirm into the heel of his hand, biting hard on your lip as he applies more pressure to your entrance.

The feeling of both of his fingers slipping into you makes your mind go blank. You can't help the soft moans escaping your mouth, most of them tapering off into high pitched whines. Once he's knuckles deep you're able to find your voice again.

"Please, Lip. Please, please, please," You're babbling at this point. The feeling of both his fingers makes you dizzy. You don't think that you've ever felt so full.

"Look at ya... Already got y'fucked out..." Lip mutters as he kisses softly at your neck.

His pace starts slow again, allowing your body to adjust to the feeling. The stretch feels impossible, your walls clenching around his fingers when he's knuckles deep inside of you.

Lip grinds the heel of his hand against your clit, applying a pressure that has you rutting into his hand. He resumes a similar pace to the one he had started. Both of your bodies work in tune, matching each other's pace.

You're overwhelmed by it all. The feeling of Lip's fingers thrusting in and out of you, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit. You're familiar with the knot forming in your stomach, rocking your hips in time with the movements of his hand as you drop your head to his shoulder.

Softly, you trail kisses along Lip's neck. When Lip curls his fingers up against your walls you can't fight the way you bite down on Lip's neck. Above you Lip groans loudly which is enough to have you bucking into his hand as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel.

Lip gently coaxes you through your orgasm, rubbing soft circles against your bundle of nerves. The feeling of your slick slipping out of you as Lip pumps his fingers in and out of you is lewd. You can feel it leaking into your already soaked underwear until his fingers still.

You can't help but whine softly as he slips his fingers out of you. You can feel and hear the movements as Lip brings his hand up to his mouth. The distant ache of arousal reignites in your stomach at the idea of Lip licking your slick off his own fingers.

The both of you sit quietly, catching your breath and collecting your thoughts. Lip's hands move to rest at your hips, rubbing softly at the skin peeking out over your waistband.

"Gotta getcha upstairs," Lip softly pats your ass, making you whine from where you rest against his shoulder.

"Don't wanna.. Mom won't be back till late, anyways..." You bury your face further into Lip's shirt, hoping to convince him to stay on the couch a little longer.

"I know, but gotta get y'taken care of unless you want t'get some sort of infection..." Lip nudges his nose against your hair.

You groan dramatically, slipping off of his lap onto the cushion next to him. "Fine..."

You lead the way upstairs, following Lip's guidance and letting him take you back to your room. He holds you softly, keeping you warm with his own body heat under the covers.

That is the first time Lip tells you it doesn't mean anything.

Lip has not left your side since the two of you walked into this party. He's been attached to your hip the moment the both of you walked through the front door, most of the time keeping a hand on you or within easy reach for him.

Which wouldn't usually be a problem. But usually, he wasn't glowering at every guy who looked in your direction.

"Let's get outta here...." Lip whispers to you, studying the side of your face. He feels impossibly close, facing you with his shoulder against the wall, all you can focus on is the heat his body radiates next to you.

"We just got here?" You shoot him a look before going back to scanning the crowd. People are being stupid and grinding on each other. Everyone is drinking or smoking or doing a mix of both.

"So? Not like we'd be missin' anything.." Lip looks annoyed as he turns to the crowd of people.

Lip had been cranky since you walked in the door. What he was pissed about, you were unsure.

College house parties were commonplace for both of you. One of you would hear about one, and then you'd tag team it.

Lately, you had been receiving more attention from the other party goers. It started with some people complimenting your hair or your outfit, and then eventually, one night, you accidently ran into some guy who barely missed spilling his drink on you. When he looked at your face, he froze with his mouth agape.

"Oh shit... You have really pretty eyes.." His voice is hushed, and you almost struggle to hear him over the music.

You don't have time to process what he's said before you feel Lip's body behind you. "What's goin' on?"

Both you and the stranger are broken out of the moment when you look over your shoulder at Lip.

"Nothin' just ran into him on accident, and he was complimenting my eyes.." You say to him quietly. Lip's brow furrows as he looks at you like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard.

"...Okay..? Let's go, need a smoke.." Lip tugs at the belt loops on the back of your jeans, attempting to not so subtly pull you away from the other guy.

"Lip, you just had one..." You glance at the other guy quickly before looking back at Lip.

"Yeah, well, all these stupid fuckin' kids are makin' me need another so... Come on.." He tugs at the belt loops again, harder this time.

"It's okay, man, didn't realize you came with a boyfriend.. Sorry for runnin' into ya.." The stranger tries to play mediator, backing away from the both of you.

The insinuation that you and Lip are together makes the both of you pull a face.

"He's not my boyfriend-"

"We're not dating-"

The both of you start at the same time and then stop to look at the other. The both of you are having one of those wordless conversations that weirds people out. The kind where you're both minutely shaking your heads or flicking your hands in a certain direction.

"Oookay... I'm just gonna go.... Have a good time y'guys.." The stranger holds his hands up and walks back into the crowd.

As soon as he's gone, you smack a hand against Lip's chest.

"What the hell? Why'd you have to say we're not dating like that?" You hate the way you sound so offended.

"Cause we're not? It's not that big of a deal, sweetheart." Lip huffs and looks around the crowd to avoid your eyes.

"You made it sound like a big deal." You cross your arms over your chest, pouting at him.

"You're the one who said I'm not your boyfriend. I should be the one gettin' offended." Lip looks at you now and bumps his shoulder against you.

You scoff at him, turning to go find yourselves a drink.

Lip stops you, his fingers still intertwined with your belt loops. "Still need that smoke, sweetheart, come on.."

You roll your eyes and concede with a sigh. "Okay, let's go, y'big baby.."

Lip gives you a cocky grin as he slips his arm around you to hoop his fingers in the loops on your side. He keeps you close the rest of that night, never more than an arms length away.

The parties after that have been something of a similar story. Lip never lets you more than a room out of his reach. It would be so obnoxious if you didn't love having him trail you around.

But after a few too many parties being cut short because Lip doesn't want to hang around anymore, you're starting to get a little cranky yourself.

"Lip, if you want to leave, then go. I don't want to leave at fuckin'-" You look down at your watch, noting how early it is. "Ten pm. That's too early. We've been leaving these earlier and earlier, and I'm missing out on free drinks."

"I can get you free drinks, sweetheart. Come on, I got some weed at home we can go smoke.." Lip teases.

"Lip-" You're starting to get annoyed with him.

He cuts you off, sliding himself to stand between your legs, forcing them apart to make room for him. Lip's not one to mind personal space, but having his hips so close to yours is making your brain short circuit.

"Come on, the beer is trashy, and nothin' fun is happenin'.." Lip mumbles, his eyes searching your face. You can feel yourself giving into him. Your resolve always gives out to him.

You groan and push his hip away to stand up straighter. "Okay, Gallagher. Let's go get that weed you promised.."

Lip grins at you as he grabs your hand. "Knew you'd make the right choice.."

You shake your head as he leads you out of the house. Lip guides you out the front door, off the patio and to the alley between the houses. You're both barely shaded by the shadows of the house, Lip turns to you with a smirk.

"Don't actually have any weed, gave it all to Kev before we left... Was just lookin' for a reason to getcha by yourself.." Lip gives you a grin, putting his hands on your hips to guide you back against the house sliding.

"Lip..." You mutter, glancing down towards the street. Anyone could see you both back here.

"Oh, don't get all shy on me now, baby..." Lip teases you.

"Not getting shy... Just don't think it's a good idea for you to fuck me in an alley where anyone can stumble down here drunk.." You whisper, searching his gaze. Surely he cannot be serious about this.

"We'll be quick.. Need to get my hands on ya..." Lip starts to trail kisses along your jaw, moving down to bite softly at your neck. You whine at the attention, tilting your head to give him more access to kiss the skin.

In order to keep from making too much noise and drawing attention to the both of you, you have to stifle yourself by biting on your lip. The feeling is a sharp contrast to the way Lip slides his thigh between your legs and is guiding your hips against him.

You're mind is so fuzzy you don't notice when Lip moves his hand under your waistband, before giving a sharp tug at your underwear. The action makes you squeal at the feeling of the fabric tugging up against your clit.

The sensations have you clenching around nothing, arching your chest up against Lips. He wastes little time moving his other hand from your hip and sliding it up to grope at your chest.

"Dressed so pretty tonight, sweetheart.." He mutters against your skin, placing a soft bite against your collarbone.

The way Lip is tugging your underwear up tightly against your clit as he grinds you against his thigh is dizzying. You have to press your face against his chest in a poor attempt to keep quiet.

"Fuck- Lip-" Your voice sounds constrained.

"Shh, baby, can't have anyone comin' down here, can we?" Lip's breath against your ear is warm and makes your face flush.

You're really letting him have you ride his thigh in an alley. The thought is a little embarrassing but makes you feel warm at the thought of being caught.

You feel the familiar beginnings of a knot forming low in your stomach. Lip slips his hand past your waistband, dipping his finger past your clit to coat his finger in your slick.

The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles around the bundle of nerves makes you whine and buck up against his hand.

"Lip- Fuck- Not gonna- Jesus Christ.." Your voice is strained as Lip works you to your climax. The feeling of your release is like a wave crashing over you, the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Lip kisses you harshly in an attempt to stifle your moans as he gently rocks you against his thigh, guiding you through your release. Your head rests back against the wall, your chest rising and falling as you try and catch your breath. Lip straightens your shirt and fixes your hair. Once you're presentable, he rubs his hands up and down your arms.

Once you've collected yourself enough, you push off the wall, leaning some of your weight against Lip. He's places a soft kiss at your temple, put his hand on your lower back.

"Come on.." Lip gives you a soft pat to your ass. "We have a party to get back to."

The vodka in your system is making you bold. Your screwdriver is more alcohol than orange juice and it's making you feel warm inside despite it being your first drink of the night.

Lip is across the room, flirting with some northside girl in a tacky pushup bra and a low-cut top.

You're pouting into your cup, near the door between the kitchen and den. He hasn't paid attention to you since you both walked through the door, leaving your side almost immediately.

You're lonely, slightly tipsy, and maybe a little horny. It had been a few weeks since you had last hooked up with Lip, making you miss the feeling of his fingers inside of you and his mouth on your skin.

You can tell that the girl across from him is thinking about the same thing with the fuck me eyes she's giving Lip. It makes your mouth twist in disgust from where you watch. Something makes you push off the wall you were leaning on and your legs begin to carry you towards him.

The girl sees you first as you approach, her eyes flicking to you behind Lip's shoulder before they go back to his face. You barely fight the urge to throw your drink at her.

You reach out to tug on the back of Lip's shirt, bumping your shoulder against his as you stand beside him. He glances at you briefly before he turns his attention back to the girl.

"Lip..." Your voice is whiny the same way a child's would be. "Let's go... 'm bored and want t'go home..."

"Can't you walk yourself home?" Lip tries to brush you off, his annoyance slipping into his tone. "'S not even 11 yet.."

The way his gaze flicks to the girl behind you makes your stomach twist and tears threaten to well up in your eyes.

"You're bein' mean, Lip.." You pout, holding your cup close to your chest. You look down, trying to prevent yourself from crying over something so small.

The way Lip breathes out through his nose tells you he's fighting back an exasperated groan. The action makes you pout at him, forgetting about the audience to your conversation.

"We always go when you wanna go, Lip.. You're not bein' fair..." Your voice is quiet as you try and convince him to leave with you. It's not going to take much more, you can tell by the look in his eyes.

"Please, Lip," You whisper, looking down at your feet. "Wanna go home now..."

You can tell when he makes up his mind. He sighs and then nods, before he takes your cup out of your hand and sets it on the small table a few feet from him.

"Sorry," He mutters to the girl before he grabs your wrist and starts to lead you out of the house.

On your way out, you spot a closet big enough to fit the both of you. Lip grunts in surprise when you grab him by his bicep and drag him towards it.

It's mostly empty, save for a few jackets hanging along the edges. You close the door behind you and push Lip up against it. He looks surprised that you're taking control.

You waste very little time connecting your lips with his. Lip lets you set the pace, which is a heavy one. You slip your hands under the hem of his shirt, hooking your fingers against his waistband to pull his hips flush against your own.

Lip places his hands on your hips, rubbing a thumb over the skin peeking out from under your cropped shirt.

"Please..." You say against his lips. You take Lip's hand and guide it to the button of your jeans. You're embarrassed to admit how badly you want his fingers.

"What was that baby? Don't think I caught that..." Lip teases you as he pulls back from you. The whine you let out only eggs him on. "Can't give you what you want if you don't tell me.."

"Lip.." You whine, guiding his fingers past the waistband of your underwear.

"Gotta tell me what y'want, y'know that... Gotta be a big kid and use your words..." Lip brings his hand up to hold your chin when you start to pout at him.

Your face is flushed as he studies you.

"Want you t'fuck me with your fingers..." You mutter, tugging at his waistband.

"Don't think I heard that one, honey." Lip taps your cheekbone with his middle and ring fingers.

You sigh through your nose before opening your mouth. The moment you do, Lip slips his fingers into your mouth and presses down against your tongue. The intrusion makes you whine as you feel arousal pool in your underwear.

"Getcha to quit whining, finally.." Lip whispers before he starts kissing along your jaw. "Should keep y'like this, two fingers in y'mouth and two in your cunt?"

The filth coming out of his mouth is making you dizzy. You're pliant enough that Lip switches your position, putting your back against the closet door.

He slips his two fingers out of your mouth before quickly replacing them. Lip wastes little time shoving his hand past your waistband, running his already wet fingers along your slit.

"Jesus Christ, baby," Lip mutters. "Already fuckin' soaked, didn't even need my fingers in y'mouth."

The feeling of the tips of his fingers pushing into you makes you inhale deeply. It's filthy the way he's slowly filling you with his fingers, two already in your mouth. Lip groans as you run your tongue in between his fingers.

The moan you release when he's sheathed to his knuckles is muffled but loud enough you're slightly embarrassed. You can feel a flush climbing up your skin as you rut your hips against Lips' hand.

The slow pace he starts is agonizing. Lip makes sure you're writhing in your place before he even thinks about speeding up his fingers. His hand is positioned in such a way that the heel of his hand is rubbing against your clit perfectly.

He's stopped kissing your jaw, seemingly content watching your face as he fucks you. Taking in the way your body responds to him.

It doesn't take long for you to feel the familiar sensation of a knot forming low in your belly. You know when Lip feels your walls clench around his fingers by the way he picks up his pace. That mixed with the way he crooks his finger along your inner wall has you rocking in time with his ministrations.

Lip removes his fingers from your mouth, making you gasp. You're panting like a dog in heat. He lets you catch your breath for a moment before he's kissing you roughly. It's messy enough Lip breaks away from your mouth to place open mouth kisses along your neck.

He times it perfectly. Placing a bite against your pulse and pressing his fingers on the soft spot along your walls. The knot snaps and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your moans.

Lip continues to place soft bites and kisses along your neck as he helps you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers in and out to prolong the feeling.

Your legs are shaky as you lean your head forward against Lip's chest, taking in ragged breaths that make your own chest heave. When Lip removes his fingers from you and slips them out of your underwear you can't help but whine at the loss of warmth.

You can feel the way the muscles in his chest move as he turns slightly, finding something for him to wipe his hands on to clean them up.

"Wanna go home now?" Lip whispers in your ear, your forehead still pressed against his chest. You nod, pressing your face into his shirt.

Lip huffs a laugh, wrapping his arm over your shoulder, "Let's get you home, diva.."

"Shut up," You mutter. "You're just as bad.."

Lip scoffs before he places a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

You're not wrong, but neither one of you wants to face that truth. The truth that you have a claim on the other.

The sound of something hitting your window is what wakes you. At first, you think that you had made it up. However, when you hear it again, this time wide awake, you know you didn't make it up.

Your clock reads 1:45 am, and you know there is only one person who would be throwing rocks at your window this late. So, with very little choice, you get out of bed and cross to your window, opening your curtains and pulling up your blinds.

True to your guess, Lip is standing outside of your apartment building. When you lift open your window, you're met with warm air coming into the room. Lip is standing in the grass dressed in ratty jeans and a tank top, smoking a cigarette like it wasn't almost 2am, and he wasn't risking waking up the tenants around you.

"Gonna let me up?" He calls up, not caring to be quiet.

"Climb up, fuckin' Rapunzel." Your voice is quieter but he hears you well enough.

Lip scoffs and starts his scaling of the wall trellis. The landlord should get that removed, but you're thankful they haven't. Once he's closer is when you back up from the window and make sure nothing is in his way for him to trample.

"You would be Rapunzel, sweetheart.." Is the first thing he says when he gets inside. He stubs out his cigarette on the windowsill and toes off his shoes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.. You smell like vomit.." You're bluffing. He smells like smoke and the fancy sandalwood cologne he was gifted by one of his rich exes. The mix of smells makes your stomach flip. It's so distinctly Lip Gallagher.

You can see the glimmer of mischief in his eye before he moves. The look doesn't register for you immediately, so you're too slow to dodge him when he launches at you.

Lip throws all of his body weight towards you, so when he collides with you, you're sent backward towards your bed. He lets himself go limp against you, causing you to fall back onto your mattress, Lip sprawled over the top of you.

You feel breathless with Lip laying on top of you. The smell of him is near overwhelming.

"Get off, you complete bum.." You try and get your hands under him to push him off. Lip hums and nuzzles his face into your neck.

"Mm-mm... Don't think I will, actually p'comfortable right here.." Lip punctuates the sentence with a kiss to your cheek.

You groan in faux annoyance and shift your hips under him in an attempt to try and flip you guys over.

"Mmm- Don't do that.." Lip mutters into your skin.

"Do what?" You furrow your brow, adjusting your hips once more.

Lip groans quietly and slowly starts placing kisses to your neck.

"Oh.." The feeling of his lips brings your attention to the precarious situation you're both in. Lip continues his motions, the kisses slowly becoming more harsh against your skin.

"We should- oh god-" Lip bites right under your ear, his hands are everywhere. "Lip.. We r-really shouldn't.."

Lip hums in response as he starts placing kisses down your neck. He's really going for gold to ensure you can't think. Lip situates his thigh between your legs. His hands are all but guiding your hips to grind against him.

You move your hands from his biceps to his jaw and guide his face back to yours. Lip mistakes your intentions of this and starts placing sweet kisses on your lips. You can taste the cheap beer on his breath, and it makes your stomach knot.

"Lip..." You manage to slip past his fleeting kisses. You grab his face again and pull him away to look at him. Lip's eyes are hooded; he looks nearly cross-eyed when he looks back at you.

"We shouldn't." You say it much more firmly without his mouth on you. That doesn't stop his hands, though, as he keeps guiding you to softly grind over his thigh, only using enough pressure to keep you chasing more.

"Why not, baby?" Lip moves his face and kisses the palm of your hand. He knows deep down that if you meant any of this, you'd push him away that you would have been harsher in your words.

"Because you're drunk.." You try and reason with him. You're grasping at straws to try and keep this from being another dash of salt in the wound.

"'M not drunk.... just a little tipsy.." He places another kiss to your palm, and another to the inside of your wrist.

"That's enough to know that we shouldn't." It feels like you have to choke the words out around the emotions in your throat.

"Please, baby.. Need you so bad.." Lip ruts his hips against your hip. You can feel his erection through his jeans, and it makes you squirm a little.

"Lip.." You sigh out. You can feel your resolve slipping, and you're pretty sure Lip can tell.

"Please, baby, please... Won't ask for anything else after this.." Lip shakes his head a little and shifts his thigh to rub up against your core. You let out a moan at the friction, and Lip seizes the moment to kiss you.

It's sloppy, the way Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You don't try to fight for dominance, letting him explore your mouth at his leisure. Lip brings one of his hands up to grope at your chest, causing you to arch into him.

"Lip..." You breathe into his mouth, causing him to groan above you. You feel your heart begin to ache, knowing what will come tomorrow morning once he's sobered up.

You've been in this position before. Sometimes, you've both had something to drink, sometimes you're both completely sober. It always comes to the same conclusion. Lip tells you it was a mistake, that it can't happen again. He tells you it was a matter of convenience, that you happened to be there when he needed an outlet.

Thankfully, you've never let him get you naked. That was your one saving grace and your biggest regret.

There was one time, maybe the third or fourth time, that Lip was bare beside you. He convinced you to spend the night at his house, in his bed, after a late night out. When you had both gone to bed, there seemed to be no intention of anything happening. You had fallen asleep tucked into Lip's side like you did most of the time.

The next morning, however, you woke up to Lip climbing into bed behind you. You could smell the shampoo and soap on his skin. When he started placing kisses along your shoulder, you could feel his wet curls brushing your skin. You could also feel his arousal against your back.

His kisses trailed up your neck, to your ear where he nipped at your skin in hopes of drawing out a reaction. The gasp that left your lips was involuntary and you could feel his smirk against your skin.

"You awake, baby?" One of his hands slips over your hip to toy with the front of your waistband. "Was thinkin' about you earlier.."

Lip ended up dedicating that morning to getting you off with only his fingers. In the back of your mind you knew that if you turned around to look at him, you'd see all of him. But he kept you too distracted to put more than a fleeting thought into it. However, you also knew he was getting himself off. You could feel the movements against the mattress as he fucked into his hand behind your back.

It was an unspoken rule you never saw each other bare in these moments. It would make it too intimate, too real.

So tonight wouldn't be an exception, you knew, when Lip slides his hand from your chest downwards to undo the string of your pants.

"Need to know you want this too, baby...." Lip whispers into your mouth, sliding his thumb along the skin above your waistband. "Need words..."

He always asks. Lip always asks, always needs to hear a yes before he goes any further, and it makes your chest ache even more.

When you simply nod, Lip huffs before he pulls back from you. He brings the hand that had been rocking your hips, up to your face and tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb.

"You know the rules, honey... Gotta hear words.." His eyes feel more piercing than they usually are.

Except you didn't know the rules. You thought you did but he always ended up changing them. He was like a child, bending and changing the rules to his whims.

But you're nodding, anyway.

"Uh-huh.. Yes.. Yes, please.." Your voice sounds so whiny, and if Lip wasn't slipping his hands down your pants the moment he heard a yes, you'd have cringed at yourself.

He wastes no time pushing past your underwear, slipping his fingers down and coating them in your arousal. The sound that comes out of Lip's mouth is a rough mix between a moan and a laugh.

"Playing coy and look 'attcha... Soaked through your underwear, honey.." Your hips buck into his hand when he nudges your clit with his thumb. He watches with a smirk as your face flushes as he calls you out.

"It’s not th-" You're cut off in a silent moan when Lip slips his middle finger inside of you. The look on his face is smug, and you want to wipe it off.

Trying to maintain some of the same footing as him, you slip one hand between your bodies and weave the other into his curls. With the hand between the two of you, you press firmly against the bulge in his jeans. The way he bucks into your hand is unrestrained, and it makes you grin up at him.

You've both always been competitive, so it quickly devolves into 'who can get the other to come quicker.' You make quick work of the button of Lip's jeans and slip your hand into his boxers.

The way he groans when you wrap your hand around the base of him makes your chest swell with a sort of pride. Your movements are constrained by his boxers but Lip is more than happy to fuck himself into your hand.

"God, sweetheart, soo fuckin' wet already... Didn't even do nothin'..." Lip says as he goes in to kiss you. He groans against your mouth when he starts to work in a second finger, "Need you to relax, like a fuckin' vice.."

Lip circles a thumb over your clit, coaxing your body to let him slip his fingers further into you. Once he's up to the knuckle, your hips buck forward until you're all but riding his fingers.

Lip's grinding himself into your hand, pumping his fingers in and out of you in time with his own thrusts. The rhythm of his fingers has you tugging on his hair gently.

"Think- Christ- Think y'can take another- Fuckin' hell..." Lip's voice sounds strained as your walls clench around his fingers.

Lip has only ever given you three fingers once. The feeling of two already makes you feel so full. The idea of a third sounds impossible.

You start shaking your head. You truly don't think you can take a third finger.

"Don't- Oh my god- Don't think so-" Your voice is whining as he curls his fingers up against your walls. Lip tsk's at your response, kissing the edge of your mouth.

"Think you can baby- Fuckin' hell-" He swears as you tighten your grip around him. Your hand is lazy as you start jerking him off again. The movements are constrained in his boxers as you shift your wrist to run your thumb over his slit.

Lip groans as he pushes his nose against your cheek.

"Fuck- How- How are we gonna get you ready to take my cock if you can't take another finger- Christ.." You squeeze him closer to his head and he can't fight the way he bucks into your hand. His words make you feel dizzy as you whine at the feeling of his thumb against your clit.

The feeling of him pulling out to the tips of his fingers, only to add a third, makes you gasp. Lip takes the opportunity to kiss you, exploring your mouth.

He feels like he's everywhere. Your whole being is taken up by him.

Lip moans into your mouth at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers. His pace is slow when he begins, ensuring your body has adapted to him inside of you.

He's grinding his hips against your thigh, fucking into your hand and matching his pace to the way his fingers are thrusting into you. The kiss turns messy as you whine into his mouth. When you pull away from him to catch your breath, Lip moves down to kiss and nip at your jaw.

"Fuck- Lip-" You can feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten as he brushes against the spongy spot along your walls. Lip knows the way your body responds well enough by now that he starts rubbing tight circles against your clit.

"Come on, baby.. Come on.." Lip mutters against your skin.

The feeling on his fingers curling against your walls and his thumb against your clit makes you dizzy. The feeling of him biting under your ear combined with the way he's fucking you is enough for the knot in your stomach to break.

You use the hand that's been tugging on his hair to bring him into a kiss, trying to stifle the sound of your moans while he works you through your orgasm. The feeling of his hips rutting against you is only slightly quicker than the way he's working you with his fingers.

The tug you give at his hair is rougher than usual, but it's enough that he groans into your mouth and his hips stutter against you. Lip's breathing is heavy as he gives a few more weak thrusts against your thigh. You remove your hand softly, making sure to keep the mess away from your sheets and Lip's clothes.

The feeling of Lip slipping his fingers out of you makes you whine, mourning the loss of being full. He kisses your temple softly as a way of apologizing. You watch him with tired eyes as he uses his own mouth to clean off his fingers.

The sight is enough to reignite the fire in your belly.

Once he's done, he lays down beside you, collecting himself again. Catching his breath and making sure he's breathing normally again.

After Lip has caught his breath, he gets off the bed and rifles through your dresser before he leaves the room.

You take the time to get up and wipe off your hand with a tissue from your desk. You quickly change out of your bottoms, putting on a new pair of underwear and a pair of sleep pants.

Once you're cleaned up, you turn off the lamp on your nightstand and climb into bed. You're hoping that the quicker you're under the covers, the later you'll feel the anxious shame in your stomach. You've adopted the idea that it'll be easier to face it in the dark.

It never is.

The knot in your stomach feels tighter when Lip climbs into bed with you. He's lost his shirt and jeans somewhere between your room and the bathroom. The weight of his arm wrapping around your midriff makes you want to squirm out of your skin.

"G'night.." Lip whispers into your hair as he settles behind you, keeping your back to his chest.

"Night.." You choke out.

As Lip drifts off behind you, you prepare yourself for tomorrow, when Lip reminds you it was just a mistake.

It means nothing.

You try and enter the Gallagher house as quietly as you can. Which is not very quiet with Lip right behind you and a few drinks in both of your systems.

Your foot catches on a stray shoe near the back door that sends you tumbling into the bathroom door. Lip snickers behind you as he kicks the shoe away.

"Shhh..." You hush him, turning around and placing a finger to your lips. Your childish antic makes Lip smirk as he closes the door behind him.

Lip helps you stand up straighter, guiding you towards the stairs with a hand on your hip.

He looks particularly pretty in the orange glow bleeding in through the kitchen window. Before you take the first step up, you place a kiss on Lip's cheek. Then, a soft bite at his jaw. You've barely made it up the first three stairs before Lip has you crowded up against the wall, his chest to your back.

"Need ya to be quiet... Think you can do that? Yeah... Think you can do that.." Lip whispers right under your ear as he kisses your neck.

One of his arms braces himself against the wall beside your head as the other one snakes around to your front and toys with your waistband.

You already know what he's asking.

"..Yes, God yes..." Your voice is hushed and whining as you nod quickly. Lip wastes no time before his hand dives into your underwear and he grinds his erection against your ass.

As Lip slides his fingers over and past your clit, he starts placing kisses into your hair and any part of your face he can get to.

At the same time as he slips his middle finger inside of you, he places a gentle bite against your jaw. The dual sensations make you groan, which you fight to stifle.

The way he's pumping his finger in and out of you is making you whine. When he slips in a second, it gets worse.

His presence is all-encompassing, with his back against you and the way he's biting at your neck and shoulder. You don't bother fighting the way your hips move in time to meet the movements of his fingers.

Lip's hips match the way he's thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and you can't get enough of it. When he starts rubbing circles on your clit it makes you gasp.

The pace he sets is unforgiving. Both of you are desperate to reach your own climax. It feels all too soon when you feel the knot in your stomach building. You bite down hard on your lip when he's crooks his fingers up against your wall, whining at the feeling.

You're breathing heavily to bite back your moans, grinding your hips into his fingers as you chase your own release. You can feel when the tension in your stomach breaks, damn near sure your legs would give out with the force of your orgasm.

You bite down on Lip's bicep to stifle your moan. The groan Lip let's out is buried in your hair as he ruts against you.

Lip keeps a steady rhythm as he grinds against you as you ride out your own high. You breathe heavily against his arm, attempting to catch your breath. Lip slips his fingers out of you, sliding his hand up to press against your stomach to further press your hips into his own. He drops his head down to rest against your shoulder as his hips stutter against you.

The feeling of Lip's teeth sinking into your shoulder makes you gasp as he attempts to stifle his own moan. Lip freezes behind you, breathing harshly against your skin.

Lip's weight is heavy against your back as you both steady yourselves. He taps gently against your stomach before he removes himself from you. Lip clears his throat as he adjusts his shorts behind you. You sluggishly turn yourself around, letting your back rest against the wall as you take in his appearance.

His face is flushed, his shirt rumpled, and his shorts... The wet patch that's leaked through from his boxers is mouth watering. The bite mark on his right bicep is red and angry. You can see the indentation of your teeth still there.

The whole way Lip is right now is near enough to have you breaking your rule. You'd give just about anything to have him fuck you on the staircase. The only thing stopping you is the fact his youngest siblings are sleeping just upstairs, and you know for a fact Debbie isn't the deepest sleeper of the Gallagher clan.

"Let's go get cleaned up, baby.." Lip's words sound slurred, like he's keeping from acting on the same thoughts. All you can do is nod and hold your hands out for him.

Lip shoulders most of your weight up the rest of the stairs, your mind is still so foggy, and you're not sure your legs would work on their own.

He plops you down on his bed unceremoniously. Lip walks away from you to his dresser, opening the drawer that holds several different items of clothes for you. When he comes back to you, he's handing you a new pair of underwear and a bed shirt.

"Y'know the drill, hon.." Lip gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head before he's leaving you again, this time to collect his own new pair of clothes.

You're slow to change your clothes, but Lip gives you the time you need. By the time you're in new underwear and a comfier shirt, you're ready to melt into his bed. Your clothes are left in a pile near the foot of Lip's bed as you roll over and start trying to crawl up to where the pillows lay.

You don't bother acknowledging the sound of Lip shuffling back in until he's landed on the bed beside you. He clumsily drags you up to lay beside him, making you face him on your side.

The both of you are struggling to keep your eyes open, but you're both looking at each other with a half lidded gaze. Lip brings a hand up to hold your face gently, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

The moment is a stark contrast to the one you both had on the staircase. You spot the bruise starting to form on his arm and can't help yourself from placing gentle kisses against it. Lip chuckles softly, bringing his arm to wrap over you, pulling you close to his chest.

You fall asleep like that, Lip's nose buried in your hair, yours against his chest. Warm and comfortable and positively content.

When you wake up, you wish Lip's room had a proper door to it. It's something that you always wished, but it's at the forefront of your mind this morning.

The first thing that wakes you up is the light coming through the window, that brightens up the room. The second is the whispering coming from the doorway.

You can distinctly make out Debbie and Carl's voices. They're not as quiet as they think they are.

"Do you think they fucked?"

"Carl!"

"What? Their clothes are on the floor right there-" You assume he's pointing to your pile of clothes near the foot of the bed. "And Lip has no shirt on."

"Lip hasn't slept with a shirt on since he broke up with Karen and dated Mandy."

"I guess.." You know Carl hates to admit when he's wrong. "But that doesn't explain why he's holding 'em like that."

"That's how people sleep together, Carl. Without having sex. I think it's nice."

"That's boring... Ow!" You could hear the smack Debbie lands on the back of Carl's head, and you have to bury your face further into Lip's chest to keep from laughing.

"Come on.." You have to assume Debbie drags Carl away when you hear them shuffling down the hall and stairs. With them gone, you take a deep breath in relief.

"They leave?" The mutter from Lip startles you slightly.

You peak your head up over his shoulder, relieved neither of the two kids are still in the doorway.

"They're gone." You affirm, leaving your head back on the pillow, extracting yourself from Lip enough that you can look at him.

His hair is flat, where he had been resting his head on the pillow. His eyes are barely open, and he's so warm next to you.

"They're not as quiet as they like to think they are." You whisper to him. It makes him smile.

"Yeah, I know. Try livin' with them all the time.." His voice is rough with sleep and there's a tug in your stomach that makes you want to jump his bones.

"You don't live with them all the time. Live with me more than you do them these days..." There's no bite in your remark. Lip has moved so much of his clothes and smaller belongings into your apartment near campus than you think he keeps here.

You're not sure when it started happening. You were so used to Lip using your shower products when he came over, or using his at the Gallagher house, but at some point a second pair of soap and shampoo showed up on the ledge of your shower. Lip always kept clothes in your room, but at some point, clothes started migrating into your closet. At some point, half of it housed Lip's t-shirts and jeans, and there was a pair of his shoes next to yours on the floor, one of his coats beside yours in the winter.

You never notice these things until they've already appeared and been living in your space. And then it's too late to mention. So Lip has slowly been moving into your apartment, but you're not one to argue over it.

The sound of more footsteps in the hallway have you and Lip closing your eyes, feigning sleep.

"Oh shit-" It's Fiona. Her footsteps stopped briefly in the doorway,

"Ian.!" She's whisper-shouting like it'll change the fact she's even less quiet than the little kids.

Ian must be close by because it's not long before you hear the second set of footsteps stop at the door.

"Woah-"

"I knew it!" You can hear the excitement in Fiona's voice. "He kept denyin' it but I knew it, I fuckin' knew it."

"Did you hear them come in last night?" Ian's the only one that's any good at actually whispering in this house. You almost struggle to hear him.

"No. But at least they made it inside." Fiona sounds resigned by the idea of it. Ian hums in response, and you hear them both leave.

"They need to get a job..." Lip huffs.

His griping makes you giggle. When you open your eyes, Lip is already looking at you, much more awake now. His eyes remind you of ice with the way the morning light hits them.

"At least they care..." You sigh, taking in how soft he still looks this early in the day. It's something you're not sure you'll ever get used to. His face is a little rosy, a soft flush on his nose and cheeks, his hair is messy, and his eyes don't have that sharp glint in them yet.

Lip sounds not committal when he hums. Your eye catches on the deep red bruise on his bicep, small bits of purple showing up already. It's nearly a perfect ring, the outline of your mouth on his skin. It makes your stomach tug, with guilt and a warmth in your core. His eyes follow yours, and he smirks when he sees what you're looking at.

"Someone got a little mouthy last night..." He mumbles as he looks back at you.

"Shut up.." You bring a hand up and shove his face away from you. Lip starts laughing, hugging you closer to his chest. The both of you bask in the presence of the other, Lip holding you close and allowing you to listen to his heartbeat.

The moment is short-lived before there's shouting downstairs. You hear Fiona calling from the first floor.

"Lovebirds! Breakfast! You got two minutes to get dressed and down here before it's free game!" Her voice rings through the house.

"Oh shit," Lip bolts up, wasting no time tumbling out of bed. He rolls over, landing on the floor with a loud thud.

"Idiot." You tease him, climbing off his bed with a bit more grace. You grab a pair of boxers from your open drawer, slipping them on as Lip gets back up.

What you don't anticipate is the foot Lip sticks out to trip you. You let out a shocked scream, putting your hands out to brace yourself as you tumble to the ground.

Lip is on you in moments, softly jabbing at your sides and placing kisses behind your ear and along your hairline. "Who's the idiot now, huh?"

"Still you." You bite out before he begins tickling at your sides. You let out a shriek of laughter, trying to shove him away as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

The way you're yelling at Lip to stop between fits of laughter is making Lip laugh.

"Get off, get off!! The kids are going to steal our food!" You try shoving his hands away and wiggling out from under him.

"I can think of better things to eat.." Lip stops his actions and whispers in your ear.

"Lip!" You exclaim, smacking him in the chest as you feel your face flush. He nips softly at your ear before he gets off you.

"Come on, quit playin' around.." Lip gives an affectionate pat to your ass as he climbs to his feet.

You roll your eyes at him as you stand up, bringing your hand up to cuff around the back of his head.

What you miss, when you walk out of his room, is the grin on his face. One that is sickly sweet and not what he should have when he thinks about his best friend.

You have been at this party for maybe 15 minutes before Lip is dragging you down a hallway by your wrist.

It was abrupt. You had planted yourself by the kitchen island. It gave you an overview of the living room turned dance floor, where you could watch everyone be stupid and drunk.

One guy in particular had caught your eye. It's not that you would have let him take you home, but you liked the feeling of attention it gave you to have someone look at you across the room.

This did not sit well with Lip. He had left you by the island to go talk to someone he knew from college. It didn't bother you like it should have since you had something to hold your attention.

When the guy across the room starts to push through the crowd towards you, Lip shows up to drag you away. He takes your cup out of your hand, and places it on the counter when you pass by.

"What- Lip- Lip, what are you doing?" It doesn't seem like he hears you when you try and get a reason out of him. You have no choice but to follow behind him. You're unsure how Lip knows where he's going in this house, but he manages to find you guys an empty bathroom.

Once you're inside the bathroom, Lip locks the door before he pushes you up against it by your hips.

"Should have known you'd be preening for attention.." Lip mutters as he presses kisses on your jaw. "Dressed like this... Should have known you'd be actin' up tonight..."

"Wh-What?" The bite he leaves under your ear makes you stutter, choking down a moan.

"Saw you lookin' at him... Lookin' at you like he's thinkin' 'bout fuckin' you.." Lip growls against your neck. You're not even sure what he's talking about. Lip has undone the button of your shorts, resting his fingers over your underwear.

You don't even have to think twice about it. "Yes.."

You're still not even sure who he's talking about. Lip has never been this possessive or jealous before. You don't get the chance to unpack it when Lip starts to rub tight circles over your clit.

Lip doesn't give you much time to ask anymore questions before he's inserting two fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers filling you immediately makes you inhale sharply.

"Think he'd be able to fuck you like this? Got you squirmin' on my fuckin' fingers.." You cannot think past the feeling of Lip's fingers inside of you, the filth coming out of his mouth, and the way he's grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

"Haven't ever given you my cock and you're this needy... Think he'd be able to fuck you like that? Fuckin' yourself on my fingers like a whore..." Lip is leaving sharp bites down your neck and your jaw. The hand that's not down your pants comes up to grope at your chest, and you can feel yourself melting against the door.

You don't prove him wrong with the way your hips are grinding into his hand. The feeling of his lips along your collarbone has you gasping and writhing. You're sure that if the music wasn't so loud, people outside would be able to hear your moans.

Lip's got you right where he wants you, you're putty in his hands, you'd probably let him do whatever he wanted if it meant he kept talking and fucking you like this.

You don't catch all of the obscenities Lip says against your skin, too busy chasing the feeling of your own orgasm and bucking against his hand.

"Thinks he can look at what's mine..." His words break the haze in your mind and you can tell Lip's just saying empty words.

You're going to be sick.

"Stop- stop, stop!" You push Lip's hand away from you and tug it out of your pants. Lip looks at you wide-eyed as you push him out of your space.

You can't breathe. You're going to be sick. You can't breathe, you can't breathe, you can't breathe.

"Come on, sweetheart, look at me. Look at me, match my breathin'.." Lip's hands are on your face.

"Don't- Don't tou-" Your words are cut off by whatever is strangling you. Lip doesn't listen. He instead takes the hand gripping at your shirt and puts it against his chest. His heart is much calmer than yours is.

"Come on, honey. Need you to match my breathin'.." Lip's words are quiet and calm and so far away.

It takes you five minutes before you can breathe clearly. It takes another two for you to realize you had been crying.

Lip doesn't let go of you until you're no longer taking shuddering breaths. Once his hands leave your face, you feel cold, and you want to take away the whole meltdown you just had in order to have him close to you again.

The look he's giving you makes you want to crawl into the ground. You bring your shaky hands to button back up your shorts and adjust your shirt to look less rumpled.

"You wanna go home?" He asks like he's talking to a stray animal, like he doesn't want to spook you.

All you can do is nod. You don't want to look at him, you don't want to see the pity in his eyes.

"Can I have your hand?" He's being so gentle and considerate and you want to throw up.

You offer him your hand tentatively. Lip takes it gently before he reaches past you to unlock the door.

The journey to find your way out of the house is an exhausting one. However, the moment you're both alone seems far more dreadful.

You don't want to deal with the interrogation you already know is coming.

Lip is going to ask questions, and you're going to have to tell him that you've stupidly fallen in love with him. That you've been in love with him since before this painful charade had started.

There's a feeling of shame that bubbles up in your stomach whenever you think about how long you let this go on for. Pretending to be happy and okay with the fact you give so much to him, and he doesn't care.

The direction Lip picks is the way to your house. You had chosen this party because it was so close to your apartment but now you're regretting it. You think the silence is worse than an interrogation would be.

Lip doesn't break the silence until you make it to your apartment, the only place you'll have any sense of privacy. And maybe the last place you'll see Lip.

"What uh- what was that about?"

"Doesn't matter," You bend to slip off your shoes, discarding them by the pile you have at the door.

"Don't give me that-" He starts but you cut him off.

"Give you what, Lip? The truth? It doesn't matter so long as you can keep finger-fucking me, right? Use me for a handy from time to time?" You sound miserable and pathetic, you don't have the energy to pretend anymore.

"Don't tell me it means nothing when you just had a fucking panic attack about it!" Lip never really raises his voice at you. Not out of anger, anyways. But he's agitated, running a hand through his hair.

"What do you want to hear, Lip? That I'm okay with being with you only when I'm convenient? That it's okay that every time maybe, just maybe you won't tell me it means nothing when you fuck me?" This is truly your breaking point. "I can't sit in silence over this anymore, Lip! Not if you're going to pretend you have some fucking claim over me, like we're dating. You're good at making it very clear we're not."

Lip is silent where he stands in your kitchen. He looks like he's been slapped in the face, you kind of wish you had.

"So, if you want to hear that I'm okay with you saying I'm yours, when I've spent nights wallowing in my own self pity that I've been letting this go on, then you are sorely mistaken, Lip Gallagher." You sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face.

"Why- Why didn't you say anything?" Lip is looking at you like you're crazy.

"Because I didn't want to lose you! I'd- I'd rather deal with this pain than deal with the pain of losing you, Lip."

"Why would you lose me?"

"Because, Lip, you always say it means nothing! That- That is was a mistake, and that I was convenient and it couldn't happen again but it always did!"

"No that's not- I only said that cause I didn't think- I didn't think you wanted anything serious-"

"Oh please, Lip-"

"I didn't think you wanted anything serious with me. You know I'm a mess and my family is one stop from a shitshow-"

"And you think my family's perfect?" Your voice is laced with disbelief. "My mother was gone half the time, she'll never be as bad as Monica but my life is just as much of a shitshow, Lip. I just got better at hiding it."

Lip looks hurt at the mention of both your mothers.

"I don't want to talk about the rest of this tonight, Lip. I'm tired and just- I can't have this conversation tonight." You wave a hand at him in dismissal as you turn to head down the hallway to your room.

The sound of Lip's footsteps following you down the hallway further agitates you.

"Go home, Lip!" You call over your shoulder, pushing your way past the door to your room. You walk across the room to turn on your lap, illuminating your bedroom with a soft, warm glow.

You're not surprised to see Lip standing in your doorway. He's never liked to listen to you, instead choosing to follow you around like a lost puppy.

In hopes of him leaving if you ignore him, you move to your dresser and collect your clothes for bed. You can feel his eyes on you as you move across the room, trying to bide your time before you actually have to change.

He hasn't made any move by the time you set your change of clothes on the bed. Lip was nothing if not persistent.

"I'm not doing this with you tonight." You can't meet his gaze, if you look at him you know your resolve will break.

You can see him approaching you in your periphery and you can feel your stomach dip slightly. His hand is soft where it rests on your forearm, the way his thumb gently caresses your skin makes you inhale deeply.

Turns out you don't even need to look at him for your resolve to slip

His other hand moving to cup your cheek makes your eyes flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of his touch. You don't put up much of a fight as he turns your face towards him. Lip gently rests his forehead against yours, bumping your nose with his. Having him so close is intoxicating, making you lean further into him.

The kiss Lip pulls you into is desperate, and passionate, and full of everything neither one of you has been saying. Lip holds your face gently, taking his time to savor you, a stark contrast on how he usually tastes you.

You can't help the way you melt into the kiss, grabbing onto his shirt to pull him against you. The gentleness of it all makes your stomach flip.

Lip's hand slips over your wrist, grabbing your change of clothes from your hand and tossing it to the floor beside your bed.

With that taken care of, Lip guides you to lay back against your bed. He's quick to follow you, not wanting to break the kiss for a second. You're quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. Lip grabs your hips softly, lifting and guiding you to lay against your pillows.

Lip's hands move from your hips to the buttons of your jeans, making quick work of the zipper. He gently coaxes you to lift your hips to slip your pants down your thighs. Your pants are quickly discarded to the floor, Lip's soon to follow them as he somehow makes even quicker work of his own zipper and button.

With less clothing in between the both of you, Lip rolls his hips against your own. The feeling of his erection rubbing against you makes you gasp. Taking the opportunity, Lip slips his tongue into your mouth. You're pliant and needy in his hands, whining into his mouth before he breaks away to catch his breath. You're quick to place soft kisses along his neck, biting softly around his Adams apple.

Lip groans softly before he pulls back. He's quick to slip your underwear down your legs and then remove his boxers. The feeling of his erection resting against your stomach is heavy, making your stomach twist. Your hips grind up against him, the vein on the underside of his cock creating a delightful friction against your clit.

One of your hands slips up to intertwine with his hair. You're quick to pull him into another soft kiss, arching your back to press your chest to his.

"Please, Lip..." Your voice is desperate as you kiss at the corner of his mouth, trailing kisses along his jaw. "Need you... Need you, right now.."

Lip's breath hitches softly in his throat. "You don't- I don't have any-"

"Doesn't matter.." You mutter, nipping at the edge of his jaw.

"Fuckin' hell..." Lip mutters before he brings you into a sloppy kiss.

The feeling of Lip's hips pulling away from you makes you whine, mourning the loss of warmth on your stomach. The moan you let out when Lip nudges the head of his cock against your clit is needy. Lip grunts in response, softly guiding his head along your folds to collect some of your slick before he attempts to push himself in.

The feeling of just the tip of him past your entrance makes you inhale sharply. Lip breathes shakily against your cheek, cursing under his breath as he pushes himself further into you. The stretch makes you wince briefly, panting heavily at the pressure in your stomach.

"Please, Lip. Please, please..." You're not sure what you're begging for but it eggs him on. Lip grunts softly as he gives a soft thrust into your heat.

Your jaw drops when Lip bottoms out. The feeling of being filled by him has your walls clenching around his cock. Lip drops his head against your shoulder as he groans, slipping his hand into yours where it lays on the mattress.

You squeeze his hand as he rolls his hips against you. The feeling of the head of his cock nudging against your cervix makes you light headed. You have no choice but to watch as Lip moves his free hand to rest against the wall, taking in the way his arm flexes.

Lip lifts his head up from your shoulder to kiss at your jaw, slowly pulling out to just the tip before softly thrusting back in. You can feel the vein along his shaft rubbing against your walls.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, sweetheart..." Lip groans when he bottoms out again. He tries to stifle the whine in his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him. He's much deeper than you had thought possible, you can feel him all the way in your stomach.

"Holy shit- Y'so fuckin' tight, baby... Thought we stretched y'enough.." Lip kisses your cheek softly. All you can do is whine in response, squeezing his hand again.

The pace Lip starts with is gentle, pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in firmly. The motions make you squirm, rutting your hips up into him.

"More..." You whine. "Please, Lip, need more.."

Lip groans at your words, knocking his nose against yours. With your encouragement, Lip quickens his pace.

The familiar beginnings of a knot forming in your stomach has you moving your hips in time to move with Lip's. Lip removes his hand from the wall, winding its way in between your bodies. The tight circles he starts rubbing against your clit makes you moan, bucking your hips into his hand.

The movements of Lip's hips quicken when he feels the way your walls are clenching around his cock. Similar to the way they clenched around his fingers so many times before. The hitching of your breath encourages Lip even further, grinding deep inside of you to punctuate each thrust with.

Lip is quick to dip his head into your neck, biting softly under your ear, making you whimper softly. The culmination of his fingers, cock, and mouth along your body is enough to have the knot in your stomach unraveling.

Your walls flutter with your release before clamping down on him. The sensation makes Lip groan into your neck, grinding into you as the first ropes of his release coat your insides. The warmth makes you moan softly, pressing the side of your face into Lip's hair. Lip's hips grind softly against you as you both ride out your climax. When he removes his face from your neck your chest aches at the loss of closeness.

Lip kisses you softly as he gently ruts his hips into you. You whine softly as the feeling of overstimulation starts to creep into your nerves. You can feel the mix of both your releases slipping out of you with each gentle thrust Lip gives you. The mixture slides down your ass and onto the sheets under you.

He nudges your nose with his as you whimper at the feeling of it all.

"'S too much. Too much, Lip.." You whine against his mouth, lifting your hips softly.

"I know, but y'gotta keep it all, baby.." Lip gives you one more gentle thrust before he stills. He starts to pepper kisses to your cheek, trying to make up for it.

Lip pulls out of you slowly, watching where the mix of both of you leaks out of your hole. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as he collects it with his finger, gently pushing the mixture back into you.

"I know, I know.." Lip whispers when you whine at the feeling.

Lip flops down onto the mattress, huffing softly. You can feel his gaze on you as you catch your breath. The feeling of Lip's hand caressing your ribs jolts you out of your mind fog, making you turn to look at his face.

"We should've done that so long ago..." Lip sighs, giving you a soft smirk.

You roll your eyes at him, "Someone was too busy having his head so far up his own ass for us to even try.."

"Whatever," Lip smiles at you before he kisses you sweetly. When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are full of adoration and something you can't name.

"What're you lookin' at?" You whisper, fighting a grin.

"Somethin' really special..." Lip replies before he gives you another kiss. "Something real special.."

[freelancearsonist]

Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise. 

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin. 

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong. 

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded? 

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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[a-simple-imagine]

Nothing But Cowards

Requested by anonymous: “I was wondering if you could just write about, having a fight and then make up, fluff and angst? If not that’s totally fine”

“I'd like to request a Jordan Li x fem reader where they're dating in secret from the friend group because of everything going down but one morning they oversleep and one of their friends find them curled up in bed together and it's followed by giggles and fluff?”

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

words: 3.7k+

WARNINGS - mentions of weird hospitals and tortured kids, strong language

GodU had always been your parents' dream. they held such high and heavy hopes for you. their perfect little superhero. a future member of the seven. when you were younger, you hated the idea. you felt... exploited. they forced this life onto you. gave you compound V and for what? so you could become some clog in a corporate machine? help sell merchandise for Vought? but as you got older and realised that you were kinda stuck with your powers, you felt more obligated to follow through with their dream. to actually be a hero. so you applied for Godolkin University. got in. and became a crime-fighting major. that is how you met Jordan Li. They were much stronger than you would ever be. both physically and mentally. the ability to shift between two forms gave them two separate skill sets all wrapped up in one identity. and they were so confident in their identity. not always a boy. not always a girl. just so confidently themselves. and you admired them so much. They were truly the strongest person you knew or at least you thought so.

it was a weird moment shrouded in the darkness of night. you were shaking a little from rage or the cold, you couldn't quite tell. everything was so incredibly fucked. Marie's roommate had gone missing because of some stupid plan of Andre's imagining. you just found out that there was some weird hospital under the school that was experimenting on people; including Sam, Luke's brother who was apparently still alive and in fact did not commit suicide. not to mention Luke was still gone. he used to give some great advice. used to kick your ass in sparring sessions but would occasionally let you win just to keep you on your toes. he was your friend. and you missed him a lot. you could never understand what happened; or why it happened. All these mysteries were piling up like old comic books. so many chapters to one confusing story that if you missed a single issue it became almost impossible to follow. this was impossible to follow. everyone was arguing. people were taking sides. Marie wanted to find Emma, who had infiltrated the woods, to help Andre who was trying to save the kids trapped down there. Jordan was more pissed about rankings than tortured kids. Cate wanted everyone to just back up and not do anything reckless. you wanted to yell at them. you knew rankings were important to Jordan. they wanted to be the best. at least Cate was worried about not dying. your parents' words hang heavy on your shoulders. this was your chance to do some good. to live up to their dreams without becoming just another vought puppet.

"don't you want to be a hero?" your voice is loud. louder than expected. the question was mainly aimed at Jordan. the person who went toe to toe with Golden Boy just to protect Marie; someone they hardly even knew at that point. that was after the club. you wish you could say you don't think about that night. everyone else seemed to just move on but it haunts your dreams. it's a cloudy memory of white powder and thick red liquid. "we almost killed someone."

there is a brief flash of something. Regret, maybe? before the expression turns dark and defensive. "we didn't do shit." and that was partly the problem. you didn't hold the weapon but you still ran. you left a woman to bleed out because you were too high. even sober, you wouldn't have been able to do much but you could have done something. anything. Nobody likes to talk about that day. the same way nobody talks about what went down with Luke. or how, if they had their way, nobody would talk about this weird hospital. If Cate and Jordan got their way, you'd just go back to school where all that mattered was who held that number one spot. currently andre. not Jordan.

"Exactly which is worse, if it wasn't for Marie we would have all been royally fucked." you articulate. irritation bubbling deep in your chest. "we can do some good here- we can help people."

"you're just gonna get yourself killed"

"at least I'm not running away again," you say. Jordan can make all the scooby doo references she wants but you wouldn't entertain the thought of leaving this down to Marie once again. "you wanna know why Andre is number one instead of you?"

"politics."

"because he is the only one person here who is trying to do something." You growl. "you're just a selfish asshole." if all they cared about was their ranking then you had to explain it in terms they'd understand. Their jaw tenses.

"Okay so what does that make you?" they spit. a particular venom dripping from their tone. "I've helped people- actually saved people. can you say the same?" they ask. "you're basically scared of your own shadow."

"Jordan don't."

"no," they interrupt Cate before she can continue. "I may be selfish for not wanting to go on some stupid suicide mission but when you realise what's really at stake here, don't come crying to me." Jordan's words hang heavy in the air, how do you even reply to that? your mouth opens but nothing comes out so you just walk away. Leaving your friends to continue arguing. 

a bitter flavour lingers in your mouth. a painful feeling concealed deep inside your chest. you can't control how others perceive you but is that really how Jordan sees you? some coward who ran to them whenever things got tough? maybe they were right. you were no hero. you may have superpowers. you may spend hours studying techniques and training in the gym but that's just school. it didn't mean anything. You had never saved the day. you had never actually done anything. you haven't spoken to Jordan. Not since that night. they had texted a few times but you haven't even opened them. you don't want anything to do with them right now but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss them. you missed them a lot. nobody knew about your situation with Jordan. you had both decided to keep it on the down low while you figured stuff out. and with everything going on, it had just never been the right time.

a knock at the door. you don't bother getting out of the bed you had been rotting in for hours; staring up at the ceiling as the sun went down and darkness enveloped the room. another knock. you bury yourself deeper in your duvet but the knocking doesn't stop. it just gets louder. a loud groan as you roll out of bed. your roommate was always forgetting their key but when the door opens, your stomach sinks. it wasn't your roommate. you instantly close the door.

"Seriously,"

"fuck off," you yell back. they knock again. yanking open the door, you spy Jordan Li once again. femme. sweaty. gym gear. duffel bag hanging off their shoulder. "fuck off," you push on the door again but they slap their hand against it.

"Just give me a chance," they probably just wanted to yell at you some more and you weren't in the mood. you shove harder. "I could stand here all night." your brow creases. Jordan probably would too. they're very persistent. with a heavy sigh, you relinquish pressure on the door and it swings open as they let themselves in.

"what do you want?" your eyes follow her as she drops the gym bag down and begins wandering around your room. they had been here before. They knew what it looked like. their hand slides over the wood of your desk. they pick up the open book, presumably glancing over the content before dropping it back down. "Jordan."

"hm," they look at you almost perplexed. like they had been lost in their own little world.

"what do you want?" you request more firmly. they just stared back like it was a crazy thing to be asking. they drop back to lean against your desk. you're waiting for them to say something. anything. but their gaze just falls to the floor. you sigh softly, still loitering by the door. you would leave if this wasn't your room. "why are you here, Jordan?"

"I wanted to see you," their shoulders rise and fall. "everything is so fucked up. a hospital under the school like what the fuck?"

a secret hospital under the school was very messed up. you can't even imagine the things they get up to down there. also, Luke's brother was down there. that's why Emma went down in the first place before she disappeared. "yeah," you nod a little. "I guess."

"And Luke's brother being alive this whole time?" you wonder where this is going. you knew all this. you were there when everyone was arguing. your brow furrows a little.

"Can you get to the point?"

"well it's a little fucked isn't it?"

"You're being weird," you state. monitoring them carefully. they still wouldn't look at you but they did push up from the desk and towards the mini fridge.

"you got anything to drink?" they question, pulling it open.

"Jordan. leave."

"What?" they ask, still looking in your mostly empty little fridge.

"I said leave," you declare firmly. "I would like you to leave."

"why?"

"you know why." they sighed loudly, thrusting the fridge closed with a loud slap. "you don't get to just pretend nothing happened."

"I don't know why you're angry, you're the one who called me selfish." Jordan insists. "Said Andre was better than me."

"You are selfish. All you care about is your stupid ranking."

"It's not stupid," Jordan fires back. "It is important if I wanna get somewhere,"

"Who fucking cares," you groan "Like I get it, you wanna be a hero but this is way bigger than all that."

"And what are you gonna do exactly?" there's a bite behind her words. She's getting defensive. "Whats your plan to save the day Superman?"

"I don't..." you snap before trailing off to a much quieter tone. "know exactly,”

"It's a death wish,"

"We have to do something.”

“no, we don’t.” Jordan replies. “we don’t have to do anything. This is way above our pay grade.”

“of course, you’d say that,” you groan loudly. “can you leave now.”

"I-" They seem like they're about to bite back but they stop short. a tense jaw. they let it go. "I miss you, okay."

"I don't care," you did care. "leave." you yank open the door. For a beat, they seem taken aback but it rapidly fades. "now."

"just hear me out."

"no Jordan," you huff. "just go. I'm not arguing with you anymore."

they watch you for a second. "I don't want to argue" they clarify. "please?” there’s an unusual desperation in their voice. one you’ve never heard before. it builds a degree of sympathy amongst your anger. you let the door fall closed with a click.

“fine," you cross your arms over your chest "What do you want?"

"you were right," she declares softly. the statement alone takes you by surprise. Jordan? admitting she was wrong? you'd comically gasp if you weren't annoyed with them.

"I don't understand."

"I said you were right."

"No, I heard you," you explain. "look, Jordan-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" they reply sharply "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"why are you making this so difficult?" Jordan asks. "I've apologised so can we just watch a movie or something?" you raise a curious brow. Surely they weren't naive enough to believe you would simply forgive them just like that? There was more to this story that they were avoiding.

"you can't be fucking serious," a humourless laugh. "you don't even really mean it."

"I do though."

"no you don't," you sigh. walking towards them. "look at me and apologise- apologise properly."

"Ugh, I already apologised," they groan loudly, pairing it with a roll of their eyes. It just annoys you even more. "why can't you just forgive me?"

"Because you don't even know why you're apologising," you stress. "it's half-baked. you don't mean it. and I'm tired so-”

"I'm fucking scared" they blurt out. "I'm scared."

A look of surprise; shock. Their very loud confession caught you off guard. Jordan Li wasn't scared of anything. They’d made that bold claim a great many times. "of what?"

"of losing you," they yell back; their hands come up to run slowly over their face. Their hair becomes shorter. They physically grow taller. Shielded by his fingertips, it's pretty apparent that he shouldn't have said that or at least hadn't meant to. You don't know what to say; your head tilts slightly to one side. how do you respond to that? it still wasn't technically an apology. "for fuck sake."

"of losing me?" you recite slowly. "why would you lose me?"

"Because you're an idiot," they urge. "who wants to help people."

"dude."

"Sorry but like it's true. you're a fucking idiot," they repeat. "and I admire that."

"I'm... confused," you mumble softly.

"I admire how much you wanna help people despite knowing it’s stupid and you're probably gonna die" You can't tell if Jordan is just oblivious to what he was saying but it was far from getting him back in your good graces. "I wish I could be like that. naive enough to think I can make a difference."

"I feel like you're just insulting me," you comment.

they shrug a little. "I know this is still kinda new, the whole me and you thing but…” you can tell this is hard for them. expressing their feelings was not their strong suit. Their head hangs low. “it doesn’t matter,” they walk towards you but instead veer off towards their bag. you reach out for them; taking their hand. they were running hot, a sweaty hand.

“you can tell me,” you express, a gentle squeeze. “we’ve been friends for ages…”

“you’re just gonna call me selfish again.” their voice a whisper but they make no effort to pull away. You step closer.

“then you’ve got nothing to lose, right?” it’s a joke. a harmless one but they don’t laugh or even acknowledge it.

“I… I just don’t want you dying before we get a chance to really explore whatever this,” they use their free hand to motion between you. “is. so yeah, I lashed out because I like you or whatever and want you alive. sorry.” you watch them for a moment. their inability to meet your gaze. the light dusting of pink that graced their cheeks. it was really sweet if not a little unexpected. Jordan was so cool most of the time. it was a rarity to see them express such emotions. it makes you smile. you just laugh a little in amusement.

"Jordan," you say warmly. "you're not gonna lose me," you step even closer, reaching for their other hand; running your thumb over their knuckles. "I understand what you're saying but I don't think it's reason enough not to help,"

"I know," the express softly, finally meeting your gaze. there is something unspoken behind those eyes but you choose not to push. “I wish it was.”

you keep your eyes on there’s taking in this tender moment. a moment of vulnerability. a moment of connection. you relish in the way their hands fit so comfortably in yours. you really liked Jordan. liked their attitude. admired their strength. wished for their sense of loyalty. you were so smitten. so lucky to be their chosen person. a smile settles before you slowly lean in. It catches them off guard but they soon settle into it. “I’m scared too,” whispered against their lips. "but I think the bravest thing we can do is try anyway.“ his eyes flutter closed, letting his forehead fall against yours.

"I didn't mean it when I called you a coward," Jordan whispers, his eyes open. Lingering on yours. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

"I am a coward," you express. "I've always wanted to be a hero. it's all my parents want. but I'm scared. terrified. I never could have fought Luke like you did. but I wanna try now. I want you to try too," you ghost their lips. It's subtle; intimate. "if you really wanna protect me, Jordan, you'd help because I'm doing this with or without you."

"do I have to decide right now?" they ask quietly. You're almost disappointed by their reply but you can't really blame them. This wasn't another student hero gone rogue. This was a whole institution willing to do anything to keep its secrets. "do you forgive me?"

"do you forgive me?"

"I was never mad at you,"

"I was mad at you." you declare.

"I know," they nod. "you weren't exactly subtle about it." their expression becomes playful and bright; a strong contrast from the conversation you were just having. You can't help but smile as you pull back.

"do you wanna stay over tonight?" there's a shift in the air. all that tension fading away. you're not mad. you're not thrilled either. but you liked Jordan. a lot. and you could understand their desire to protect you. In a way, it was very sweet. You didn't realise how much they liked you. "we could watch that movie? or Property Brothers? whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh?" their hands vacate yours and instead move to your hips. Pulling you close. ever so close. pressing their body ever so slightly into yours "Anything at all?" masc! Jordan was taller than their male counterpart but far less intimidating. firmer. gentler. it’s a rather present contrast.

"you're such a perv,"

"you don't even know what I was gonna say," they insist.

"Anyone with half a brain could figure it out," you tease. their hands slip around to the small of your back pulling you flush against them. playing into your words. "but what Jordan wants. Jordan gets." whispered in their ear, you place a gentle kiss upon their cheek. "right?"

you can feel them practically shudder against you. A heavy sigh left their lips. "oh she wants to play tonight?" all signs of sincerity washed away by something darker. desire. you meet their eyes, lips quirk up into a smirk before they lean in once more. it’s ever so light but you’re quick to deepen the kiss; chasing that warmth that spills through your veins but they pull away instead. mischief laces their expression. their fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. they pull back just enough to murmur, “I’m gonna make you beg for it,” their words hot against your ear. A shiver spills down your spine as you lean into them; wanting to be closer. As close as possible as they guide you back towards your bed.

it's safe to say you're smitten with the infamous Jordan Li. and when it comes down to it you're delighted when you're together. they bring out a more mischievous side of you. and you like to think you bring out a more vulnerable side of them. You shuffle further into their embrace. Basking in the feeling of their arms around you as you hide from the rising sun peeking through the blinds. A content hum as you drift in and out of consciousness. Still so early. You feel them lean more into you.

"what the fuck," a voice drags you to the land of the living. And as your tired eyes flutter open, your friends stare back. Both you and Jordan shoot up, instantly breaking any contact. Pulling the covers up to hide the fact you were both very naked. Marie stands at the end of your bed; wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth. Cate and Andre are just by the door. how the fuck did they even get in? "we should- sorry," you watch Marie scramble for the door shoving Andre out just as Cate yanks him.

you both fall back down in unison. If anyone had seen it would almost seem planned. After a moment, you roll back into them. giggling into the crook of their neck. after a moment you nip the skin. "guess we're not a secret anymore," muttered against their skin.

"This isn't funny."

"it kinda is," you shrug "Quite the shock for those three." A giggle before you sink your teeth into her neck earning yourself a satisfied sigh but they're quick to push you away. A stern look on their face

"you agreed it was best we didn't tell everyone until all this craziness was over."

"yeah but don't you feel just a little relieved," you ask. You can practically see the gears turning in their head. It's... Cute. You move so that you're now straddling them, hands drifting delicately over their chest. Their skin is so warm; and soft. Their short bob is a mess against your pillow. they looked so peaceful. so beautiful. A strip of yellow sunlight reflected off their chain. "I'm glad everyone knows now. plus," you smile mischievously. "now I can kiss you whenever I want. " You lean down slowly and place your lips against hers. "and that's all I want," mumbled against their lip.

"I guess it is one less thing to worry about," they muse, bringing their hands up to rest against your hips. her fingers apply just a little bit of pressure. you peck their lips once more before pulling away. a gentle tap on their nose, their face scrunches up.

"you shift in your sleep sometimes did you know that?"

"What?"

"you were definitely a guy when we fell asleep and then suddenly I'm snuggling up to a girl? is it like a conscious choice or?" they hesitate for a moment before playfully shoving you off them.

"shut up,"

"ow!!" you groan dramatically, falling down against the bed. "ow. that hurt so much. I'm in so much pain. how could you be so mean," you groan loudly, shuffling about a little for dramatic effect.

"you’re so dramatic,” Jordan rolls their eyes but a mischievous grin spreads over their lips. “now get up we’re gonna be late.”

“for what?”

“class.” they sit up. a hand coming to settle on your stomach. you don’t move. and neither do they. and in those few seconds, everything feels at peace. “you really are beautiful,” they eventually say before finally getting out of bed.

[chrissybrown1127]

Uhh, I have decided to branch out further and recolor eyebrows in the NHS

Crystal Dollhouse Thick Eyebrows

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Crystal Dollhouse Thin Eyebrows

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Crystal Dollhouse Filled Eyebrows

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Praline Venus Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Sugarelf Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Supreme Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Perfect Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Pure Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Honey Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Glamorous Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Fluffy Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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Praline Baby Doll Eyebrows

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Praline Angel Eyebrows

Converted by @grecadeasims-studio

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All are binned, tooltipped and compressed.

Credits: Remi, Pooklet, @grecadeasims-studio, @crystaldollhouse, @nonsensical-pixels for giving me advice, @pralinesims for the original eyebrows from TS4

I plan on converting some of praline’s eyebrows myself so if anyone would like me to convert anything specific, feel free to shoot me an ask!

I already have the shaved ones, Cate and Villainy on my list.

[incorrectgenv]

*Everyone is giving advice to Marie*

Andre: It's okay to ask for help.

Jordan: You're not a burden.

Cate: Murder is okay.

Emma: Your feelings matter.

[digitalbath1988]

Manipulation

Yandere Cate x Homelander

Background: This is a “what if” so I’m taking liberties with canon. No relationship with Golden Boy or Andre or friendship with the rest of the Gen V kids.

Also we can sub in Homelander for Soldier Boy for that scene in Episode 6, right? ;) a lil change in dialogue and we’ve got that in the bag.

TW: cunnilingus, manipulation, unhealthy relationship dynamics, yandere themes, age gap

“Red and green was the color of her dress, manipulation

Pale blue was the color of her eyes, manipulation

Yellow, yellow was her hair

Orange sunburst red hot glare, manipulation, manipulation

And you can feel her madness

She will call you out

Watch out for her dark side

And you’ll soon figure out

So run on

She’s training you

And she’s got you dancing”

Manipulation, The Black Angels

—-

The young woman shifted nervously in her seat. Her leather gloves crinkled, a normally inaudible noise heavy in Homelander’s ears.

“I’m so glad you agreed to this interview. The student body at Godolkin University is really eager to hear your side of the story.” Cate smiled at him, despite her heart beating harder than normal.

“No problem at all. Anything for my fans. Although that part of the interview will need to come from Legal.” He let a smile lazily play across his face as he met her pale blue eyes with his own. His legs uncrossed in her direction, suit serving to make the cavernous room seem smaller. To make everyone else seem smaller. He glanced at her gloved hands before continuing. “Dean Shetty mentioned they changed interviewers last minute, but she assured me you’d run your final draft through Vought Legal.”

“Yeah, of course. That’s part of the deal. And I’m sorry that Andrew isn’t interviewing you, I think he has a stomach bug or something.” Interestingly enough, her heart rate kicked up as she said that last bit, and her pupils dilated. He let the smile on his face fade a bit. Undeterred, she went on with her questions.

“What advice would you give our students at Godolkin looking to fill some of the vacancies on the Seven?”

She watched his lips as he spoke. “Right to the point, huh? Well, obviously they’d need to have incredible talent and presence, but bravery, modesty, strength and leadership abilities. And a desire to serve their great country.”

She nodded.

“What about the rumors that Vought will be scouting for new talent from the graduating class?”

“I’m happy to confirm that we will be scouting from Godolkin. Of course, it’ll be highly competitive. We’re looking for the best and brightest to join the Seven.”

Subtly enough to be perfectly subconscious, Cate crossed her legs facing him, leaning forward earnestly, as if hanging on his every word. She had a quiet intensity about her that might have unnerved anyone else.

“Understood. Only the best for the Seven. But, that being said, we’ve got some very talented students.” Her smile was bright, despite the sadness of her eyes.

“Anyone you’d like to recommend?” Like, yourself?

“I would prefer to remain perfectly professional and not bias you towards anyone. Sir.”

Homelander smiled and his eye twitched slightly. He’d hoped she would have taken the opportunity for herself. And he’d worked with other Supes long enough to know who was quietly powerful.

He suspected this was a human grenade in a pretty package. Why choose PR or Marketing, or whatever she’d majored in? Was Crime Fighting somehow ‘beneath her?’ He inched closer, mirroring her posture.

“Off the record, I think you should try out.” His eyes flicked over her gloved hand, then quickly over her body. “Dean Shetty told me about you. How strong you are, and loyal. Loyalty is rare in this world, Cate.” An image came into his mind unbidden, Black Noir’s final moments, and he made a face.

Cate looked at him. “I’m so sorry. I know people have let you down. I’m sure that you’ll pick out the right ones now that you have full control over the process.”

They wrapped up the interview fairly quickly after that- after all, it wasn’t like she could ask him any questions about the infamous water bottle incident.

“Will you try out?”

“I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.” She got to her feet, packing up her bag.

—

All he could think about was the sadness in her eyes for days afterwards. But there were plenty of candidates, probably ones physically stronger or more vocal.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He even thought about asking her over, making some excuse to get her there.

A text popped up on his phone eventually, something so mundane. She’d left a cardigan and she didn’t have Ashley’s number, could she have it.

“Don’t worry about that. Why don’t you swing by and we can talk outside of an interview?”

The silence bothered him for an overly long fifteen minutes. Finally a text back:

“I’d love to.”

She showed up later that evening, dressed more casually than at the interview in a cropped shirt and bias cut skirt. The gloves were a constant.

Cate pushed the sweater into her backpack with a little “thank you,” and a smile.

The small talk only lasted for a few minutes. “I meant what I said the other day. You should try out. Dean Shetty told me what you’re capable of.”

She gave him a look. “Well, did Shetty tell you what I’ve had to do for her?” Her body language seemed to open up, even as her heart rate pounded harder.

He leaned back, curious now about the push and pull. What lay underneath it.

“Explain.”

“Shetty is having me wipe people’s memories to protect herself. Because she’s working on something. Whatever it is, I know she’s hiding something from Vought. You know about The Woods, right? You need to send someone there.”

“How do you know?”

This was real Cate. “I’ve wiped too many people for this to be something Vought ok’d. I’m getting worried.”

“Why didn’t you tell me at the interview?”

“You didn’t trust me yet. Now that you’ve reviewed my draft..”

“I haven’t had time.”

She bit her lip. “I can tell something has changed. And I swear I haven’t been in your head, it’s just- things seem different.”

The thought of her inside his head was deeply disturbing, that she’d be powerful enough to do that to him. But also there was something else there, something he couldn’t quite get his finger on. Truth was, if he’d been in front of Mirrorlander, he might have had that introspection to see that he was still longing for someone to truly love him, to see everything he was and did and still care for him, to not recoil in horror from him.

But he probably wasn’t willing to admit it, so he ended up attributing it to attraction. It was a far more comfortable motivator.

She shifted closer to him, waiting for his response. Her legs crossed and uncrossed, hands again nervous in her lap.

The longer he held his silence, the more nervous little movements she made. It made him want to hold out and see what she’d do.

“I’m sorry- you can trust me. I promise I wouldn’t go in your head without asking first.”

“I can tell you’re not lying to me.” He slipped his hand over her knee, holding it in place just as he held her gaze.

“You can?”

“I trust you because you’ve been so honest. Well, except for Andrew getting sick.. but I was much happier having you interview me. You just made Andrew think he was sick, didn’t you?”

She squirmed. Fuck, he loved having that effect on her. “Yeah, I might have pushed him a little. I knew Dean Shetty trusted me enough to do the interview on such short notice.”

“So I’m dying to know why you maneuvered yourself right here. Because you left your sweater on purpose too.”

She gulped again.

“I just wanted to tell you about what Shetty was planning. About The Woods.”

“Now you’re lying to me.” His hand crept up her thigh slightly, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t need to be psychic to see the way your eyes change, the way your heart rate is going nuts. It’s almost like you knowing I can read you is making it even worse.”

“Ok- the truth.” She breathed in, hard. “Truth is, I have been a fan of yours for a long, long time. I just didn’t want to creep you out.”

“Oh, a fan. You should have said something, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help but smile.

And Cate cringed. “I’m so sorry, I made things weird, I should go.” She tried to grab her bag but it was hard to get it away when he was holding it now. Practically dangling it in front of her.

“Hey, don’t worry, it can be our little secret. I’m flattered. Do you have posters of me in your dorm?”

“No comment,” she giggled, trying to get her bag back with an awkward smile.

“So you do. I could give you an autograph if you want one.”

Cate sat back down, getting the idea that she wasn’t going anywhere until he was done with her. “Honestly? I wanted to prove to you, over time, that you could trust me. That I’d do anything for you. I don’t think I want to be part of the Seven.”

“That’s a lot to give someone without wanting anything in return.”

“Who said that I was selfless, I’d totally be getting something in return.” She smiled coyly. “Also, you don’t think it’s crazy that I’m telling you all this?”

“I think you’re a smart fucking cookie, Cate. I think you know honesty is the best policy with me. And it’s kind of nice, don’t you think? To have to be honest with each other?”

She nodded. “I like it too. Ok, I’ll tell you. I want someone to care about me. I want to do things for you so that you care about me.”

Now it was his turn to swallow. “I know what that feels like. That’s what you do for Dean Shetty but it’s not.. it doesn’t feel right.” An image of Madelyn flashed, he pushed her memory away before it could hurt him.

“It doesn’t scratch the itch, no.” She pushed his hand closer to her core. “I just knew you’d be the only one who I could trust- the only one who could keep me safe from her- I had to go to you and tell you about what’s going on in The Woods. I can’t be free on my own.” Her large eyes looked to his beseechingly.

“I know you’re not lying, but that’s not true. They’ve all lied to us- told us that we need to be reigned in, shackled. Imagine if they all saw what we’re capable of.”

His hand climbed higher, over elastic and cotton, glove now abandoned in favor of bare flesh against the soft fabric of her panties. She pulsated through her engorged cunt, he could hear the blood pooling in as he rubbed and rubbed.

Cate sunk deeper into the chair and into her own mind. One day she’d let him in there too, but for now she’d revealed more than she was comfortable with, and he needed to reward her. “If you’re more comfortable with transactional things for now, why don’t you do me a favor.”

“Anything you want.” He pressed her clit, feeling her get closer and closer to release.

“These little members of the press who are not in Vought’s pocket- I’m going to make sure you get to meet all of them over the next month. Give them a nice firm handshake without your glove on. Then tell them what to write about me.”

“I’m gonna have them wrapped around your finger.” She looked so beautiful like this, pleading at him with her eyes. He truly felt like a god.

“That’s a good fucking girl.” He got between her legs on the floor, not bothering to worry about symbolism, just following desire and some feral need to bind this powerful creature to him forever. “You’d really do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” His tongue feels heavier than normal, despite a desperation to control.

“Yeah, I would, anything.” Her overworked mind went blank as Homelander tongued her over soaked panties. Her scent and taste and devotion drove him wild, he wanted to consume her. “Anything for you, fuck.”

He groaned in appreciation, lapping at her beneath the elasticy pink cotton, finally biting them off of her once he’d had enough of the barrier between him and her taste, tongue all over her warm slit.

She gasped and he could have sworn she’d tried to get up, but he clasped her carefully to the seat. Cate wouldn’t be going anywhere until she came at least once. If anything, the wriggling was attractive, he wondered how long it had been since anyone had taken care of her needs. They had both spent so long taking care of everyone else, lesser beings that demanded their constant attention and care.

She gasped again and clenched, trying to hold something back from him, maybe feeling embarrassed about being so vulnerable so quickly. “Keep your fucking legs spread. Darling.”

She did despite it being clear that that was indeed the source of her issue. How anyone could ever be ashamed of that was beyond him- she was perfect. He flicked the little bud of nerves until she was back at the precipice.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He added a few fingers and it took a little bit longer, but she did eventually, thanks to a continuous sucking on her clit and his clever fingers inside her.

Everything she’d been holding back came with her, eyes rolling back slightly and shutting, quenching his thirst, hands grabbing the seat as if she was afraid of falling.

“Good girl,” he murmured into her quivering flesh.

She got up with a heavy breath, hands still too shaky to hold herself.

“Are you going to send someone to check out The Woods?”

He tilted his head. “What makes you think I’m done with you yet?”

—

(Pt. 2 is on the way this weekend, I just wanted to post Homie’s perspective first. Pt 2 will be Cate’s perspective.).

[mariejordans]

I'm curious how different the relationship dynamics amongst the group would have been if Golden Boy was not killed off early. Would it have been a love pentagon? Because in ep 1 I felt some chemistry between him and Marie. Ex. Andre/Kate/Luke and Luke/Marie/Jordan.

i mean. i know what i would do if i was in the writer’s room and luke was surviving (andre cate luke throuple/love triangle all the way)

i kinda think that if luke were meant to survive, that the conversation between luke and marie on the roof would’ve never existed. just bc i feel like that conversation was specifically there BECAUSE luke dies later on in the episode. it’s purpose wasn’t to imply anything romantic between luke and marie, but seemed more like a set-up to learn more about luke’s background before he died (and he also ends up giving marie some pretty good advice.) and for people that ship marie and luke (bc they do still exist, i think 😭) this is like their only piece of evidence that marie and luke could’ve happened, so without it existing, idk i don’t see luke and marie being a thing 🤷🏼‍♀️

but i can also see the writers making marie and luke happen anyways, regardless of if the scene was there or not (*sigh*) even though in my opinion, i think it would’ve been predictable and boring. but again, that’s just my opinion! some people really like the idea of them, it’s just not for me personally. and the idea of a luke-marie-jordan love triangle kinda makes me want to pull my hair out…

one thing i do mourn the loss of, however, is the potential friendships we could’ve gotten with luke; particularly with marie, jordan, and andre. i’ve said this before, but one of the most likable things about andre, to me, was his genuine love for luke. you don’t see a lot of male friendships in media nowadays in which they casually tell each other i love you. and ik it was kinda ruined by andre and cate cheating, but all that could be solved with a threesome, so…

[godunlap]

wild card— talk about anything you want that you haven’t been asked about

the way you're such a genius for this bc i have the PERFECT topic i've been stewing on for literal weeks !! okay so there's a lot to unpack with cate & indira's relationship which i'm constantly doing but another dynamic that had a big impact on cate after leaving home was professor brink. almost as much as shetty, definitely not in the same way. he made his attempts at pulling cate under his wing once she was brought into the inner - circle of secrecy — but she formed longstanding [negative] opinions of him early on.

( FIRST IMPRESSIONS ) :

⑴ when cate was first introduced to brink, she was reminded what it was like to feel small again. trying to introduce herself, he barked at her to speak up - by the end of that initial meeting he'd coined for her the nickname 'little bird' which he used & she loathed until his death. it was all in the small things with him. the way he'd ruffle her hair or ignore her in a larger group. eventually, every time she saw him coming she found herself wanting to sink into the floor. very much -

[ FURTHER OBSERVATION ] :

⑵ as cate's reflection continued, there was only one aspect of brink that she couldn't shake, & that was the majority of people's reactions to & opinions of him. the innate respect he inspired, how loyalty was almost a given. more than indira even, brink knew how to reel people in. a skill cate knew she needed to give a convincing performance of a halfway normal girl once she arrived at god u. with that understanding, she finally allowed herself to take in his advice & lessons without immediate resistance. she adopted several bad habits of his, ways to give oil - slicked handshakes & spin a daedal web of lies. the dynamic became more so -

he basically encouraged the worst in her, where indira was still trying to teach cate how to 'normally' fit in. while cate eventually found her own balance (often keeping the darker parts of herself locked up tight) these differing approaches to her social training left a complex & self - opposing mess in its wake. cate had learned the ins & outs of contrasting forms of manipulation. with brink, it was the control of fear & respect, garnered by the imposition of his own 'larger-than-life' image of himself. whereas indira knew how to coax people gently, slowly pulling them onto her side until their loyalty was as sure as anyone else's.

( GOD - U ) :

⑶ upon the finality of cate's new persona, brink had slowly discovered the method to her self - reconstruction. how she took the pieces she liked of those around her & threw away the rest. as he sat with it, he came to the conclusion that he was not a fan. from then on he wrote her off as an unworthy student & prospect for the school of crimefighting. while indira & cate decided on her change of major due to health concerns, brink was in the dean's ear the whole time, urging it on.

brink also made a point of fussing over andre, jordan, & luke with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm whenever she was around, making sure she felt as as invisible as ever, an attempt to convince her of her own irrelevance, like he never gave her the time of day at all. & in his show of omitting, she is thrust further into her need to be acknowledged -

at the point of brink's death, they are still very much in this place, never having found any further common ground. while cate is not overtly happy with his demise, she does note mild relief. more than that, her first thought upon hearing the news, hearing that it was luke, is : ❝ he probably deserved it. ❞ what she doesn't allow herself to acknowledge is that if he deserved it, does it not track that she would as well?

[radiant-reid]

hi cate, i've recently started trying to write fanfics, and it's not going so well..

i'm not completely sure what I'm doing wrong..

As my absolute favourite writer on this app, do you have any advice? it would be very much appreciated <3

yup i've got a couple of lists already and thank you

about finding confidence to post here

about writing for CM specifically here

about writing a series here

if there's anything more specific, send me another ask or direct message !!

[maxverstepponme]

He had Kelly on his close friends so I guess he had the other wags there too 😭 // Before giving you all the information, I want to say that other F1 photographers can’t stand him. Most of us don’t like the way he works, it’s very invasive towards the drivers and very dishonest to other photographers. In case you’re wondering how I know this, I’ve been an F1 photographer for a few years so I know a lot about what’s going on around the paddock. You’re free to take this as you wish, I’m only here to share my thoughts. This is going to be long, my apologies.

You’d be surprised when I say not many of the wags are on his close friends. Only Kelly, Caterina and Charlotte have made it there because they were the only ones who really interacted with him regularly. Kelly is still there, but Caterina and Charlotte aren’t there anymore because they have run their course as F1 wags. When Cate was still dating Pierre she would let Kym know she was going to be there almost a week before without Pierre’s knowledge. She would also tell him when they were on their way to the track. Occasionally he would give her fashion advice on what to wear to stand out more than other wags. He would call her “My dear Caterina”.

Charlotte did something like that too but only when she needed more attention. Whenever she needed to deny rumors she would call him and tell him where and when to photograph her. The bicycle entrance was a PR stunt from her part, according to Kym himself.

Kelly is his new Cate and Egle will soon be it. This is why we see more pictures of her than any other wag. She lets him know she’ll be there days prior to the start of the race weekend and lets him know when they’re on their way to the track. During Monza she was not going to be at the track initially because she had some issues according to Kym, but he convinced her on going and she did so. I think she was sick or something happened because she didn’t seem happy at all on the paddock.

Egle let him know she was going to be on the paddock too and he was really excited about it. That’s why she made a grand entrance with that awful outfit. The wags that are constantly photographed don’t pay him a crazy amount of money, but they do give him something for the “Paddock Photoshoots” as he calls them.

Carmen is photographer often too, but according to what I’ve heard she doesn’t pay him at all. He likes her because fans like her. Now, many wags and ex wags don’t like him at all. Katerina had contact with him for a while but cut it off after. He didn’t share the reasons, so my initial thought would be she got tired of him being annoying.

Dilara, Luisa, Tiffany and Justine asked him directly to stop photographing them. Lando asked for some privacy too but Kym didn’t care.

Dilara was very good friends with Caterina and was often photographed with her but she didn’t really like having Kym following her around. She asked him to stop photographing her, but of course he didn’t listen. This same thing happened to Luisa, Justine, and Tiffany. This is why Justine would often get to the paddock from the back entrance. That is all I can share for now. I hope this helps clear out some things that are being talked about!

Note to Steppy: This blog is more popular than you think and most people that I’ve discussed the blog enjoy it a lot! People saying wags and others don’t care about this blog are wrong and know nothing about the paddock life, you made me and others download Tumblr again 😂 In case you want to know some of the drivers know about the blog, but you’re the number one entertainment source for some of the mechanics and photographers.

Keep up the good work, hopefully I can be back with something useful soon. If you have any questions I’ll try to answer them 💛

— Lens anon 📸 (I’ll call myself this if you don’t mind)

[18-2024]

Marie and Sam Fanfic

After Marie and the rest of them reunited with Cate and Sam, they collectively agreed to give the two chance to regain their trust, especially Sam, who they know is vulnerable.

Marie knew Sam wasn't in the right minds when siding with Cate. With her grudge on Cate, it allowed her to be a bit more forgiving to him.

Sam was a little scared of Marie. She was basically Emma's best friend, and possibly the only person that could end him. He had to tell himself if he goes rogue again, Marie would feel betrayed, and she would easily blow him up with her blood powers.

Whenever Sam gets worried and wondered how Emma was doing , he goes to Marie to insight. Marie doesn't take the guy who hurt her too easily. But she tries to be fair by telling him to give her more time to process for what he did.

Marie is the one to encourage Jordan to help with Sam with combat training.

Whenever Sam has a psychological break, when Marie shows up to uses her powers, he seem to back down, knowing Marie could just kill him before he could hurt anyone.

One time when Sam was recovering from a big psychological break, and ran away from the student body. But Marie found him. Sam talked very lowly about himself. Saying he was a freak and a monster. But Marie expressed her own self doubts with her powers made her feel like a monster too.

Sam eventually relied Marie to be the one that real with him especially with his stunned development and schizophrenia.

Whenever Sam feels anyone self-doubt and negative about himself he always vents to Marie.

Eventually, Marie and Sam would go into conversation with their childhood with their siblings. Sam with Luke and Marie with Annabeth.

Sam and Marie share their hatred and express various negative things about.

When Marie tells about Luke's advice about being hero, she does to try to inspire him as well.

When Marie got chance her sister, Annabeth again and having doubt about it. Sam tries to encourage to try to reconnect with Annabeth.

Sam was doing self-harm, Marie was the one stop from doing damage to himself with her blood powers. She reminds of Luke sacrifice being for him to be free.

When Cate offends Marie, Sam one of the people who stands up for her.

See him and Jordan

[stevesaxetogrind]

I have a plot bunny, it’s been done before but Stephanie Harrington is in my head. Consider, Season 4, trying to convince Robin that Vickie is also a tits girl:

“I feel it! Vickie likes boobies, she’s like me!”

“I’m not taking my ex’s advice on which girls like-”

“Boobies?”

“Ew stop saying it!”

“What? I’m a girl. You’re a girl. Vickie’s a girl. We all have boobies. We all like boobies Robin! Boobies, boo-”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t say that to your favourite ex.”

“You’re my only ex.”

“Well then as your ex turned bff- which Robin we didn’t even date- I say I have a great feeling. Fast Times doesn’t lie!”

“Fast Times isn’t even that good a film.”

“Don’t let Vickie hear you say that. Phoebe Cates would never. Take it back!”

“Nope.” Robin grinned that stupid smile of hers.

“How can you ever touch Vickie’s boobies is you don’t even take an interest in her interests?”

“Oh my god, stop saying boobies!”

“You said it too this time.” Steph smirked, “its funnier this way.”

“I give up on you.” Robin sighed, leaning against the door as they rolled into the school parking lot.

People milled about, completely uninterested in former Queen Bee Steph Harrington dropping off band geek Robin Buckley. Which was good. Robin liked it better that way.

She turned to Steph, tentative. “I’ll see you tonight. Are you going to take a date?”

Steph shrugged noncommittedly. “I’m giving Nance a life, she’s covering it for the paper so hopefully I don’t have to look like a total loner. But I got to support my best friend and her future girlfriend.”

Robing could only laugh when Steph started nudging her, enthusiastic to the end.

“High school is so last year for you, stop caring about popularity. Who cares if you go alone?”

Steph shook her head, “You can take the popularity out of the girl- violently and with monster goo from another dimension, but is it a crime to care what other people think? I’ve got to live in this town, shop here, talk to people- I’m not like you Robin, I’m not going to go to college… do you think I like little old lady Paulson giving me pitying looks about ‘ruining my face’ in the mall fire?”

Robin gave her a withering look. It didn’t stop her.

“Also Rob, I’m taking a break from men. Most girls think I’m some kind of disabled skank, and any girl who used to be able to tolerate me is either away at college or is caught between cheer loyalty and social suicide. I’m the one who couldn’t even make it into Tech as Head Cheerleader- you think they’d want supports but no-”

“Steffie honey, I don’t know your weird sports terms.”

“Okay point. Emily and Chrissy, maybe Tina S, are the only tolerable members of the Hawkins student body left and they’re all cheering tonight. I’m going to sit behind the band with you and cheer on Lucas. It’ll be fine.” She sounded like she was assuring herself more than Robin.

“Okay loser, you’re allowed to make new friends.”

“Or I could focus on the ones I already have. I don’t want Lucas to think the only reason I’m there is because some guy dragged me there to get laid.:

“Oh yeah. Huh, maybe you could sit with the kids. Everyone knows you babysat Henderson.”

“Yeah maybe. I know they don’t like sports, but it’s the Championship. I’m sure they’d grab some good seats at least.” Steph looks considering at which might be worse. At least she’d have someone to talk to, even if they were her freshmen friends. Especially since Nancy would be busy for most of the game.

“Maybe they’ll even let Lucas play. It’d be good for you all to cheer together! Little supporters’ section.” Robin suggested.

“God, I hope so, he’s been practicing a lot. I know he’ll do so well if they just give him a chance.” Steph smiled. She’d have played basketball for the school team if they’d scraped together enough girls for an inter-murals league, but it was just her and Laura C. No one else wanted to do anything that close to tomboy material. So, it’d been a lot of fun playing with Lucas when she’d drop Dustin off to their little summer game nights.

Robin gestured up at the school, bell about to ring. “Well, this is me dingus. Love you Steph. Wave to me tonight.”

“Love you too, see you Robbie.”

[nikosasaki]

since dani is a heartless bitch (lovingly) what is her dynamic with the scooby gang and also our main character marieeee

sdfgh you get it!!! also side note love 'scooby gang' i feel in my heart that that's exactly what Dani would call them too

let's start with Marie bc i love you two girls who literally can't help but antagonize each other. it's literally like putting two anti-social cats in a room together they're just both on opposite sides of the room hissing at each other dfgh it isn't until Dani sees Marie's powers in action against Sam that she's like. wow. ur kind of a freak and i deeply respect that. they grow respectful of each other pretty fast but a real friendship doesn't bloom until way later (probably season 2) things between Emma and Dani are a bit more difficult. Emma is obsessed with Dani for the sheer reason that she's one of the top achieving students as well as a huge influencer, so when it comes out that Emma has an eating disorder and she accidentally runs into Dani she's like 'oh sorry hi you're very cool i can't do this right now' and Dani just goes 'oh hey, you're that anorexic girl' which. as you might imagine. sends Emma into a full-blown meltdown. she cries right on Dani's shoulder (there's only one thing that grosses Dani out more than emotions and that's snot, so top-tier interaction) and afterwards Dani gives her world's worst but most effective pep-talk that boils down to 'fuck everyone else', which really helps Emma in that moment, despite the Dani-ness of it all. there are a lot of moments where Dani almost accidentally sticks up for Emma and Emma is like are we friends?? and Dani just goes no we absolutely fucking are not. but they are. secretly. Dani and Andre are cordial at best, especially because the two of them are keeping each other's secret. Andre finds out about Dani and Luke on accident and attempts to hold it over Dani's head, but she immediately shuts him down by letting him know she knows about Cate. they're at a stalemate of sorts, both on different sides of the same blackmail coin. in their case it's absolutely Andre who hates Dani and Dani who truly does not think about Andre much at all. so. on the topic of Cate. oh man. these two have a ton of history together, dating all the way back to the very first day at uni when both of them thought they would be best friends. they hung out a lot in those first few months until Cate started dating Luke and Dani started playing second fiddle hard. in the interest of now allowing herself to be shoved aside she instead started a huge blowout fight with Cate and they've hated each other ever since. it's a relationship i would like to eventually see healed but we'll see where the show goes when it comes to Cate. just know that i would love to see them be friends again some day. finally, Jordan. there's a good reason that Jordan was the other love interest choice for Dani and that's because they see Dani in a way that she really doesn't like to be seen. their interactions pre-show are few and far between because Dani really early on figured that Jordan wasn't into her and she doesn't really see a point in interacting with them after that, but the two of them grow a little closer as Jordan and Marie become an item. Dani, for all her inability to be nice, can see that they're an item from a mile away and she can also see that Jordan is freaking out about it. if Dani knows one thing it's romantic relationships, so she has a sit-down with Jordan about it in which Jordan actually receives some good advice. when Jordan afterwards jokes that Dani might actually have a heart after all, Dani jokes back that if Jordan tells anyone she'll kill them. the two of them start developing a friendly teasing dynamic that turns out to be exactly the sort of friendship that Dani's been needing in her life, and it's really good.

[gaypornvideoswebsite]

a while back musician friend of mine shared a tweet of someone complaining that cate blanchett is not “qualified” to be a conductor because of her lack of training and used the example of “hugh laurie can’t give medical advice just because he played a doctor” and now every other day or so in passing i think to myself, i would let hugh laurie diagnose me

[lynxindisguise]

Hi Lynx! Okay so. I am currently bingeing Netflix’s new mermaid docuseries and I am thiiiiiiiiiiis close to going out and buying myself a tail (I cannot afford a tail). I am having a mermaid moment, the likes of which hasn’t been seen since 2002.

So here’s my double whammy. Give me bad life advice but also please talk to me about pirates because that’s a significantly more a) affordable and b) plausible cosplay seafaring brainrot to be experiencing. Help a baked good out, dearest forest cat 😭

Cate!! My favourite lost baked good!

Okay so my bad life advice for you is obviously to buy yourself a tail. You won't need money when you're a mermaid; mermaids trade in owed favours, stories, and pretty shells.

But, in my humble forest cat opinion, the pirate aesthetic is so much more fun!! Pirates (like onions and ogres) have layers. Poofy blouses. Droopy trousers. Corsets. Fun belts. So. many. fucking. necklaces. And rings!! Big clompy boots! A fuckton of eyeliner. You can add scarves and hats if you're feeling fancy. Swords and daggers if you're feeling murdery. You can go a bit sea hag and accessorise with rope and mesh and seaweed. You can trudge through a downpour and show up to places looking like the saddest dampest little cat and claim it's all part of your aesthetic! The possibilities are truly endless.