#i just love how tactile they are with each others!

[maelancoli]

Writing Intimacy

i often see writers sharing a sentiment of struggling with writing kiss scenes which honestly bleeds into other portrayals of physical intimacy. i see it a lot in modernized styles of writing popularized by the recent trend in publishing to encourage short, choppy sentences and few adverbs, even less descriptive language. this makes intimacy come across awkward, like someone writing a script or clumsy recounting of events rather than a beautiful paragraph of human connection.

or just plane horniness. but hey, horny doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with poetic or sensual.

shallow example: they kissed desperately, tongues swirling and she moaned. it made her feel warm inside.

in depth example: she reached for the other woman slowly and with a small measure of uncertainty. the moment her fingers brushed the sharp, soft jaw of her companion, eliza's hesitance slid away. the first kiss was gentle when she finally closed the distance between them. she pressed her lips lightly to gabriella's in silent exploration. a tender question. gabriella answered by meeting her kiss with a firmer one of her own. eliza felt the woman's fingers curling into her umber hair, fingernails scraping along her scalp. everything inside eliza relaxed and the nervousness uncoiled from her gut. a warm buzz of energy sunk through her flesh down to the very core of her soul. this was right. this was always where she needed to be.

the first complaint i see regards discomfort in writing a kiss, feeling like one is intruding on the characters. the only way to get around this is to practice. anything that makes you uncomfortable in writing is something you should explore. writing is at its best when we are pushing the envelope of our own comfort zones. if it feels cringy, if it feels too intimate, too weird, too intrusive, good. do it anyway! try different styles, practice it, think about which parts of it make you balk the most and then explore that, dissect it and dive into getting comfortable with the portrayal of human connection.

of course the biggest part comes to not knowing what to say other than "they kissed" or, of course, the tried and true "their lips crashed and their tongues battled for dominance" 😐. so this is my best advice: think beyond the mouth. okay, we know their mouths are mashing. but what are their hands doing? are they touching one another's hair? are they scratching or gripping desperately at one another? are they gliding their hands along each other's body or are they wrapping their arms tightly to hold each other close? do they sigh? do they groan? do they relax? do they tense? are they comfortable with each other or giddy and uncertain? is it a relief, or is it bringing more questions? is it building tension or finally breaking it?

get descriptive with the emotions. how is it making the main character/pov holder feel? how are they carrying those emotions in their body? how do they feel the desire in their body? desire is not just felt below the belt. it's in the gut, it's in the chest, it's in the flushing of cheeks, the chills beneath the skin, the goosebumps over the surface of the flesh. everyone has different pleasure zones. a kiss might not always lead desire for overtly sexual touches. a kiss might lead to the desire for an embrace. a kiss might lead to the impulse to bite or lick at other areas. a kiss could awaken desire to be caressed or caress the neck, the shoulder, the back, the arms etc. describe that desire, show those impulses of pleasure and affection.

of course there is the tactile. what does the love interest taste like? what do they smell like? how do they kiss? rough and greedy? slow and sensual? explorative and hesitant? expertly or clumsily? how does it feel to be kissed by them? how does it feel to kiss them?

i.e. examine who these individuals are, what their motives and feelings are within that moment, who they are together, what it looks like when these two individuals come together. a kiss is not about the mouth. it's about opening the door to vulnerability and desire in one's entire body and soul.

[sysig]

DAAAAAAAAAAAAX <3 <3 (Patreon)

[cornsobsessions]

every time i come home and spend a day hanging out with my friends i want to move back here

[pissfizz]

Thinking about akitoya and stretchmarks and how good they make each other feel when it comes to insecurities… sobbing

[mirohlayo]

CUTE, PRETTY AND PERFECT

( lando was ready to confess his feelings to you, but a misunderstanding changed everything. )

warning : fluff, so much fluff, lando being adorable

note : i want this boy guys. also probably my fav fic, it's just all cute omgg

word count : 3k

He was finally ready. He had finally gathered all his courage. Sure, he was stressed, but after months of hiding his deep feelings, he was determined to do it. Lando was ready to confess his feelings to you.

McLaren and their two drivers are now in Bahrain to test the cars for the pre-season. It starts in few days but they already started to work hard, especially on their new garage design.

As a friend of Lando Norris himself, he bought you a ticket plane for you to fly to Bahrain and spend some time with him, even though it was not the most exciting thing because you would just be around the paddock and the track, not doing anything special or funny. But still, you agreed to come because you couldn't spend a lot of time with him during the winter break. Turns out this man had fun traveling around the world.

But Lando had others plans. Of course, he dragged you and his others friends there to spend time with you, but he also wanted to do something. He thought about it a lot, also stressed about it a lot, but now he knows he's more than ready to confess to you.

This boy was already absolutely obsessed with you since the first time you met. Your smile, your laugh, your shyness... Every single thing you do only makes the situation worse and he feels himself falling more and more.

He's the type of guy to be confident to pick up girls and he has no problem to go for them. He is confident and shows no signs of weakness. If he likes a girl then he won't hesitate to show it to her. But with you it's totally different.

The so confident and flirty Lando finds himself so weak when it comes to you. His usual way of flirting no longer exists when he's with you. And you're the only girl he's ever met who makes him change his behavior like that. He is extremely shy around you. He's hesitant, he doesn't know if he's doing the right thing because he's too nervous about making you uncomfortable.

He is also no longer touchy at all. Usually he likes to be tactile with the girl he likes, but you are completely different. You have such an effect on him that he becomes clumsy. This is why when you touch each other suddenly, even for a short second, his whole being becomes alarmed. He blushes so quickly and hard, his heart beats so hard that he's sure we can hear it on the other side of the world.

Even his friends don't recognize him when he's with you. This is the first time he's been so shy and cautious with a girl.

This is why it was at first hard for him to get the guts to finally confess to you. But it's soon the start of the new season, so he thought confessing now would be a great idea. Because then if you reject him he'll be able focus on the races and get over it faster.

And the day finally comes. He starts to feel stressed. His heart is beating a miles but he tries to ignore it. He knows you're here, around the paddock, so he goes to looking for you. His thoughts have been the same for a few days: he hopes that you love him in return. He already spent five minutes looking for you, but it looks like you're missing. He was about to take the stairs to leave the McLaren building when he heard several voices coming from a room.

He cautiously approaches where the noise is coming from, and then presses his ear to the door. He listens carefully, and now he's hearing two voices. And he's sure your voice is one of the two. He would recognize it in seconds. He perfectly knows how your voice sounds. But soon the conversation you have with your interlocutor is breaking his heart in pieces.

"I already love him. God he's so cute !" You say in a excited way. He hears a girl's laughter. "Y/N, you haven't gone out with him yet." "I know but i can't wait. I think i'll go out with him in like two days or something like that" You reply.

Lando's heart misses a beat. Are you planning to leave him alone for another boy ? Are you serious ? Do you actually hate spending time with Lando ? He keeps listening, but he can't repress this feeling of pain.

"You're already in love with him right ?" The girl ask you. "Oh definitely. He's perfect. And he's so pretty too, look at him !" He assumes that you are showing a photo of this man to your friend, since there is a short moment of silence before you giggle. "Yeah, he's cute. I'm so happy for you Y/N" "I love him so much you know..." You keep saying.

That's enough for Lando. He doesn't know if he feels angry or sad right now, but he doesn't wait another second to leave the place, his breath heavy and jerky. So he spent all those months being so in love with you just to find out you're head over heels for another man ?

Jealousy runs in his blood. His feelings were always so deep and strong when it comes to you, so this jealousy is obviously hurting him. It breaks him, and his heart. His mind can't think properly. He wanted to confess to you, but your plan was to leave Bahrain and him in few days to go out with a man he doesn't know about his existence.

But he knows he can't blame you. After all, we don't decide who we want to love. Feelings can't be controlled. He fell so hard in love with you and it's not his fault, so he can't blame you for loving someone else. It's your feelings. But still, he's so in pain. The sadness is quickly taking hold of him. Because he realizes you won't be his girlfriend. And it sucks.

It's been two hours since he found out. He didn't want to think about this horrible new, so instead he went over his race team and started to work on the cars with the engineers. But his mind keeps playing again and again your so affectionate words that you said about this man he already hates with all his being.

He's talking with Oscar about the cars' grip when he hears a voice behind him. "Hello guys !". You walk over and you're now standing in front of the two drivers. Oscar greets you with a smile. "Y/N, it's good to see you here. I guess you missed Lando" the Australian grins at you, and gives his teammate a blow in the ribs.

But he doesn't move, and keeps a straight face. "I wanted to spend time with him but turns out he worked hard with you these two past hours. You steal him and our precious time." You points out to Oscar to tease him and he leaves his hands in the air, ridding himself of any accusation.

You feel Lando stiffen and he doesn't even dare to look at you. His jaw tenses and his arms are crossed over his chest. You frown. What's wrong with him ? "You prefer spending time with your so cute and perfect man huh..." He rumbled in such a low voice that you didn't understand what he just said. "What did you say ?" "Nothing. Just leave me alone, I am working" He turns back and walk away, leaving you alone with the aussie next to you.

You're so confused. Why he's like that ? Did you do something wrong ? Do you bothered him or what ? You send a look of confusion to the blonde guy next to you, and he too seems lost. He shrugs. "I don't know why his behavior is so aggressive towards you. When he arrived two hours ago, he didn't say a word and he seemed quite angry."

"Angry ?" "Yeah, well he wasn't too focused and sometimes I felt like he was about to cry". This is insane. You don't know what happened to him but it worries you. He was always so kind and caring with you, never getting angry at you. But it's so different today. It feels like he hates you.

Oscar pats your shoulder, gives you a small smile before leaving you here, thinking about everything that happened during those 2 hours.

-

He felt guilty. So guilty. Of course, it was the first time that he get angry at you. He was always trying his best to give you the best of himself but that day it wasn't the case. After speaking to you for the last time, it got worse. He couldn't stop thinking about what he told you. It was stupid of him.

But today was also not the day too. He's been ignoring you for two days now. He passed you a few times around the paddock but he always looked away quickly. He didn't really want to spend time with you anymore. And that got on your nerves.

He remembered that today you have to leave Bahrain and him to go out on a date with your man. Maybe your boyfriend even ? But you didn't warn him, so he wonders if you're really gone. Despite this thought, he didn't try to ask you and just figured you left without telling anyone. But as he walks towards the mclaren garage, your voice come from behind him. "Lando, wait !!"

He frozens. Are you really here ? His heart starts to beat faster and he turns around to see if you are there. His eyes dart out when he finds you standing here, in front of him. You look like you ran a marathon because of your messy hair on your face and your red cheeks. He clears his throat and tries to put himself together. "Are you... okay ?" You ask carefully. He seems surprised at first, but quickly get back to his straight face.

"Yes, I'm good." You feel like he was lying. "It doesn't look like though" His gaze shifts to the right. He avoids your gaze. "Why ?" He asks. "I don't know... You've been ignoring me for two days. You haven't spoken to me once since you asked me to leave you alone. I don't know if I did something wrong but I need to know Lando..." Your voice is about to crack and he notices it. He realizes he must had pain you. And it breaks him in pieces.

But he avoids whatever you're saying. "And you ?" His question make you lift your head up to cross his eyes. "Why are you still here ? You should be with your boyfriend on your date right now." He looks down at the floor, because now sadness and pain fill his whole heart. "What boyfriend ?"

Your question and your confused tone surprise him. His head lift up and for a moment your eyes meet, confusion can be read in both of your looks. No. He's sure he heard it right last time. "I heard you say you were going out on a date with a man today" You frown. "I don't have anything planned today. I don't even have a boyfriend or a man, Lan" You don't know where that comes from but it's just stupid. You are single, and if you should have a boyfriend of course you would choose Lando without hesitation.

After all, you fell in love with him too.

He's relieved. His heart slows down and he finally manages to relax. Now his whole being is relieved because it means he still has a chance to confess to you. "I know it's bad Y/N, but last time I listened to your conversation with your friend and you talked about a perfect and super handsome guy, who you were planning to go on a date with..." You were about to say something but he cuts you off. "So i thought you had someone you loved." His voice becomes quieter.

But now you understand. You start to laugh because you realized that he misunderstood everything. He looks at you, confused. "Lando, that day I wasn't talking about a human. But about a puppy. I'm going to adopt a puppy" You say between two laughters. His eyes dart out and his face looks so surprised.

Oh poor boy. He feels so dumb and stupid right now. How could he make such a fool of himself and distort your words? He has misunderstood every single word you said. And he feels even more foolish when he realized he was so fucking jealous of a puppy. A little puppy.

He blushes so hard now. Such a blushing mess. Not just his cheeks but his whole face is all reddish now, shame eats away at him. It's so embarrassing. But your cute laugh soothes him a bit. "Today was the day I had to pick him up and "go out" with him. But I was worried about you so I postponed the meeting" You explain and he feels even more embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. No really, i misunderstood everything and i apologize for that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignore you. I'm so stupid" He doesn't stop rumbling and apologizing for all this stuff he created. "Hey Lando, it's okay. I am not mad at you. You didn't have the context so there's no point in apologizing." You put your hands on his shoulders and the touch gives him goosebumps.

It's not fair how you manage to have a hold on him. He's so desperate for you. "But I'm really sorry..." You stay silent for a moment. "But it was really a problem if I went on this date with a man ?". Everything goes into panic inside him. He can't confess, not now. Not after what just happened. "N-no, you can have a boyfriend and go out with whoever you want but... I mean, it's..."

He sighs and pulls backward. "Sorry. It's just that... I don't know how to forgive myself" he reveals. He nervously plays with his fingers and you can't stand this sad picture of Lando. That's why you got an idea. You smile to him. "Maybe you could come with me to pick up my puppy?" A grin takes place on your face.

And soon a grin comes out from his face too. He can't stop smiling like a child. "I'd love to".

-

"You can come". The old lady waves at you and the driver. You get up from your seats and enter the room where several puppies are playing around. You can't help but giggle. You love so much puppies and dogs. And so does Lando. He too looks in heaven. "Here's your little puppy." The lady hands you a cute brown puppy with big doe eyes.

You take him in your arms and without waiting another second, you attack him with kisses. You let out in between some giggles, while Lando stands there, looking at you with heart-eyes. But the more he looks at you and the puppy, the more he got jealous.

You kiss and hug the puppy like there's only you two in the room. All your attention is on the cute brown animal in your arms and you don't even look at the driver anymore.

Twice. It's the second time he got so jealous of a damn puppy. "What's wrong with me ?" he thought. But he can't help it. He desperately wants to be the puppy. To be the one who receives your kisses, your hugs, your attention. It's not fair. "You want to hold him ? I need to get the papers and stuff done" you ask to him and then right after he got the fluffy ball in his big arms.

Lando also has a dog. Of course he loves animals too. But here it's different. With a smile, you encourage him to wait for you outside while you finish to sign the papers for the adoption. So he waits some minutes, staring at the puppy. Or more like glaring at him. "You love stealing my girl from me huh ?" He asks to the fluffy ball, and he looks like he's about to pout.

But then you appear, a big smile on your face. You join Lando, too happy to notice the cute pout on his face. "Oh my baby, you're so cute" You take the little puppy back in your arms and kiss him again. "And me ?" Lando suddenly said softly, but you heard him.

"You ?" You ask surprised. Why he's suddenly like that ? You look at him with with a questioning look. "Am I cute too ?" He asks, still pouting. He doesn't think about what he's saying anymore, now he just needs you. You don't know what to say. But indeed yeah, his cute behavior melts your heart. "Am I pretty and perfect too ? Arghh fuck !!" He lets out a cry of frustration. "I can't get jealous of a puppy, that's so childish"

"Lando, what are you saying ?" You don't understand at all his behavior. He sighs and finally meets your gaze. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm such a child to be jealous of a puppy. Like... Like I want to be him so bad. I also want your kisses, your cuddles, your attention. I also want to be the reason of your giggles. I so want to be this puppy to receive your love too" You bite back a smile, but that's impossible.

You take a step closer. "You're cute too. So cute. And you're such a pretty and perfect boy too Lan." You grin to him. He didn't expect that. At all. But it genuinely melts his heart. He looks at you with adoration now, and he needs to fight the urge to kiss you. "I guess my jealous boy wants his kiss huh ?" You tease him. He blushes hard, and like a cute puppy he nods quickly. You don't wait a second to press your lips on his ones.

He smiles against your lips, and deepen the kiss by pulling you closer to him. His arms hold you tight, but he makes sure he doesn't crush the puppy between you two. The kiss is so sweet, Lando is savoring every seconds of it. You pull back, and rest yours foreheads together. "I'm so in love with you Lando. Maybe I love you more than our puppy" You laugh softly. He smiles with all his teeth, and press a kiss on your cheek. "I hope so, baby. I'm already tired of him stealing my girl away from me".

You let out a laugh, and like that, he presses a cute and small kiss on the puppy. His beloved puppy.

[luveline]

for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3

love u <;3

“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.” 

You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble. 

“Are you in pain?” 

“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.” 

He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?” 

“Twenty two.” 

“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.” 

James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant. 

He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.” 

“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy. 

“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.” 

“Am not.” 

He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.” 

Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks. 

“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.” 

They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg. 

“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze. 

“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face. 

Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm. 

Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough. 

Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.” 

“I’ll get you some water,” James says. 

Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.” 

He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say. 

Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.” 

“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink. 

“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.” 

“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.” 

“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises. 

You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.” 

You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.” 

You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?” 

To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met. 

[helen-with-an-a]

Oh yay a new Oberdorf story this weekend!

Wait no more Obi fans - here is a smutty fic to keep you a little full until November hehe. And it's before the weekend (sort of). Ik i asked for reqs and to the Anon how sent in the jealousy idea - it's such a good idea and yes it will be written but I was about 2k into this before I saw it so I decided to finish this first.

First Time

Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: It's R and Lena's first time doing anything sexual

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Smut, 18+, fingering (R receiving)

This was so not how you expected your night to go. It was supposed to be romantic and gentle – a night that you and Lena had been anticipating for weeks. Although, you supposed it was just not in the at you were expecting. Tonight marked your first official date as girlfriends, an event you’d been dreaming about ever since your friendship had blossomed into something more. From the moment you first met as kids, there had been an unspoken connection between you two. The years went by, and though you were close friends, it became clear that your feelings for each other had grown deeper over time. You had been pining for each other since adolescence, each of you harbouring a quiet hope that someday the other would feel the same way.

It had taken a month of playing on the same Club team for things to finally shift. The constant exchanges of longing stares and the shared, charged glances hadn’t gone unnoticed by your teammates. They’d grown weary of the unspoken tension and had taken matters into their own hands, staging an intervention that left both you and Lena flustered but undeniably grateful.

A month ago, Lena had taken the plunge and officially asked you out. It was a moment you’d both been waiting for, and since then, your relationship had deepened in ways you hadn’t imagined. You’d been on one date a week, each outing a new adventure and a chance to explore your blossoming romance. But it wasn’t just the dates that defined your connection; you were inseparable, spending nearly every evening at each other’s houses and sticking together like glue during training sessions.

It was as you stood in front of your door, your hand firmly in Lena’s, she had asked you those immortal words. Lena’s words and the earnest look in her eyes caught you off guard. With a mixture of nervousness and hope, she asked if she could be your girlfriend – officially, in the way that only a heartfelt question could make it feel.

You had, of course, said yes. Your heart was racing, pounding so fiercely it felt like it might burst from your chest. The excitement and joy coursing through you were overwhelming, making your breath catch and your head spin. A nervous bubble of anticipation settled in your stomach, causing a fluttery sensation that was both exhilarating and a little bit unnerving.

You could see the hope and vulnerability in Lena’s eyes, and it only made you want to reassure her with more than just a verbal affirmation. With a mixture of eagerness and tenderness, you leaned in. Your lips met hers in a kiss that was soft yet full of unspoken promises and deep affection. It was a kiss that conveyed all the feelings you had bottled up inside – your excitement, your love, and the sheer relief of finally being on the same page. The world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt both new and perfectly right.

And now, exactly one week later, the world had shifted in a way you hadn’t quite anticipated. Lena was lying on top of you, her body warm and soft against yours in a way that felt both exhilarating and comforting. Her mouth was pressed firmly against yours, a kiss that was both passionate and tender. One that felt so foreign, yet so familiar.

As you melted into the kiss, you could feel her hands exploring, tracing a path down your body with a deliberate and gentle touch. Each caress was both thrilling and reassuring, a tactile affirmation of the connection you were deepening together. Her fingers moved with a kind of reverence, exploring and savouring every inch of you.

The sensation of her hands on your skin was electrifying, making your heart race and your senses come alive. The way she seemed to be attuned to your every reaction, adjusting her touch based on your unspoken cues made your heart leap.

“Lena,” you sighed, the breath escaping your lips in a shuddering exhale as her mouth remained pressed firmly against your skin. The sensation was both electrifying and soothing, and as she moved to suck a delicate bruise into your neck, a mixture of pleasure and anticipation coursed through you. Each gentle pull of her lips sent ripples of warmth down your spine, making your pulse quicken.

Your hands, almost on their own accord, slipped away from her hips and travelled upward, threading themselves into her soft, tousled hair. The strands of her hair felt silky and alive between your fingers as you pressed further her into your skin.

As her mouth continued its exploration, Lena’s hand ventured toward your chest, hovering just above your breast with a hesitant but tender touch. The pause was filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, as if she was waiting for your approval or perhaps gauging your reaction.

“Is this ok?” she asked softly, her voice a gentle murmur that contrasted with the heated intensity of the moment. Her eyes, filled with a mix of affection and concern, met yours as she awaited your response.

“More than,” you gasped out, the words escaping in a breathless rush. The moment her hand made contact, your body responded with an involuntary shiver of delight. Her touch was a perfect blend of softness and warmth, and as she gently squeezed, a low, instinctive moan escaped your lips, a sound that was a melody to Lena’s ears. She smiled, leaning back to kiss you with a renewed sense of purpose – wanting to draw those sounds out of you again, and again, and again.

“Can I take it off?” Lena’s voice was a soft murmur, barely audible over the sound of your shared breaths. The question was wrapped in a mixture of tenderness and desire, as if she was seeking both permission and reassurance. Her lips lingered on yours for a few more seconds, brushing against them in a delicate dance that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel your chest rising and falling with each breath, the anticipation of her touch making your heart race. With a nod, you responded affirmatively, your voice barely above a whisper. “Uh huh,” you managed to say, your eyes meeting hers with an intensity that mirrored the fluttering in your chest.

“Words, baby,” Lena replied, her words laced with a promise of more to come. Her hands were poised at the hem of your shirt, their warmth radiating through the fabric and creating a tantalising contrast with the cool air. Despite her gentle touch, she didn’t move her hands, waiting for your final confirmation.

The moment seemed to stretch out, filled with a mix of longing and anticipation. “Yes, Lena. Take it off,” you whined, the urgency in your voice betraying your eagerness.

Lena’s response was immediate, her fingers finally moving with a deliberate and tender touch, as if savouring every second of the moment. The anticipation was almost palpable, and as she began to lift your shirt, the sensation of her fingers against your skin heightened by the cool air.

“So gorgeous,” Lena hummed appreciatively, her eyes roaming over your body with a mixture of admiration and desire. Her gaze was filled with warmth and appreciation, making you feel both cherished and exposed in the most intimate way.

As the moment stretched on, you found yourself hesitating, caught between the exhilaration of the present and the vulnerability of the situation. “C-can I take yours off too? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s just – ” Your words stumbled out, the nervousness evident in your voice. The last thing you wanted was to impose or make her uncomfortable.

Before you could finish your thought, Lena interrupted you with a gentle, reassuring kiss. Her lips were soft and soothing against yours, and the warmth of the kiss was a balm to your frayed nerves. “Stop overthinking, it’s just me,” she murmured softly, her breath warm and calming against your lips.

Despite her soothing words, your anxiety spilled over. “That’s the problem,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself. The confession was raw and unfiltered, a moment of vulnerability that you hadn’t intended to share.

Lena’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her features. “What?” she asked, her voice sharp with worry. The shift in her demeanour made your heart sink further, amplifying your embarrassment.

“No, no, that’s not – fuck, so stupid. That’s not what I meant at all. Not in that way. God, I’m such an idiot,” you stammered, your cheeks burning with a deep flush of mortification. The words spilled out in a flurry, your mind racing to correct the misunderstanding. “I … I meant, that I am bound to overthink this because it’s you. I’ve had sex before, Lena. But none of them have been you – ” The confession was raw and heartfelt, exposing the depth of your feelings. “I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen. I’ve waited so long for this. I just … I just want to be perfect for you.”

Lena’s expression softened immediately, her concern melting into a look of profound understanding and affection. She pulled you closer, her voice dropping to a soothing coo. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, her tone filled with tenderness. She pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. “It is already perfect. You are perfect. It’s perfect because it’s you.”

“What if I mess up?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry as you searched Lena’s face for reassurance. The thought of making a mistake or not living up to the moment was a heavy weight on your shoulders, and you struggled to push past the anxiety swirling in your mind.

“You won’t,” Lena countered firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. The confidence in her voice was meant to be a comfort, but your nerves were still on edge, making it hard to fully absorb her reassurance.

“But what if I – ” you started again, unable to shake the nagging fear that you might fall short of what you wanted this moment to be.

“Baby,” Lena said gently, her voice softening as she reached out to hold your face in her hands. She waited until your eyes met hers, her gaze steady and full of warmth. “You won’t mess up. Just let yourself feel good and I’ll do all the work.”

She began to run her hand up and down your sides in a soothing motion, her touch calming and grounding. “Focus on my hands,” she instructed, her fingers caressing your skin with a tenderness that made it impossible not to relax into her touch.

“On my lips,” she whispered next, her breath warm against your skin as she planted a series of gentle kisses along your cheek and jawline. Each kiss was a soft reminder of her affection and commitment to making this moment special for both of you.

“On the way you feel,” she continued, her hands sliding back to your breast. She gave it a tender squeeze, her fingers brushing against your nipple in a light pinch that made you gasp softly. The combination of her touch and the intimacy of her words helped to melt away your apprehensions, focusing your attention on the sensations she was creating.

Slowly, Lena allowed her hands to wander over your body once more, her touch gentle but exploratory. As her fingertips skimmed your skin, a satisfied smirk tugged at her lips against yours. She noticed the way your eyes fluttered shut, your face relaxing into a look of pure pleasure, and it only seemed to fuel her desire to make this moment as perfect as possible.

“Pretty baby,” she murmured softly, her voice a soothing whisper as she nipped playfully at your earlobe. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of pleasure and anticipation building with each tender bite.

You felt her hand drift lower, her fingers teasingly playing with the waistband of your shorts. The touch was light, almost playful, yet filled with an undercurrent of desire that made your heart race. The anticipation of what was to come had you yearning for more, and you could barely contain the excitement bubbling within you.

“Can I take these off?” she asked, her voice a soft, seductive murmur. The question was more of an invitation than a demand, her eyes locked onto yours with a look of sincere affection and eagerness.

“Please,” you moaned in response, the word escaping your lips in a breathy, pleading tone. The desperation in your voice was matched by the way you lifted your hips, giving her the space she needed to slide your shorts down. The gesture was both eager and vulnerable, showing just how much you wanted to be closer to her.

As Lena tugged the shorts down, she used the momentary distance between your bodies to quickly and efficiently remove her own shirt and shorts. The swift motion was both practical and electrifying, her actions carrying an air of confidence and intimacy that left you breathless.

You watched with bated breath as she moved, each motion deliberate and graceful, a display of power and control. Her muscles rippled beneath her skin, a testament to years of dedication and discipline, as she reached up and casually pulled her shirt over her head. The fabric slid away, revealing the sculpted curves of her shoulders and the defined lines of her abdomen. You couldn’t help but gulp, feeling your pulse quicken as your eyes hungrily traced the contours of her muscular figure, every inch of her exuding strength and confidence.

She caught your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, clearly aware of the effect she had on you. The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken tension. “And you say I’m pretty,” you scoffed, though the words came out softer than intended, almost a whisper, betraying the awe you felt in her presence. The corners of her mouth lifted into a grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement, as if to say she knew exactly what was going through your mind.

“Stop,” Lena laughed, her voice light and melodic, the sound of her amusement filling the space between you. She looked at you with eyes that sparkled with a mix of affection and mischief, the kind of look that made your heart skip a beat. There was something in her gaze that went beyond humor, a depth of admiration that made you feel both warm and self-conscious under her steady stare.

“What?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at her, your lips curving into a playful grin. The challenge in your tone was clear, daring her to say what was on her mind.

“You know what,” she retorted, her voice carrying a hint of mock sternness as she pointed a finger at you. Her smile never faded, though, and without another word, she began to clamber back over you, moving with an effortless grace that made your breath catch.

As she settled down, her body pressing against yours, the familiar charge of electricity crackled back to life between you. It was as if the very air around you hummed with energy, every point of contact between your bodies sending sparks through your skin. Her warmth seeped into you, making you hyper-aware of every inch of her, the closeness of her breath, the rhythm of her heartbeat, the way her hair brushed against your cheek.

You lifted a hand, your fingers trembling slightly as they found their way to the back of her neck. The warmth of her skin against your palm sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn't hesitate. With a gentle tug, you pulled her closer, guiding her towards you with an irresistible need that had been simmering just beneath the surface. The space between you disappeared in an instant, and your lips met hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle.

You arched into her, your body instinctively seeking more of her warmth, more of her touch. The kiss was fierce, filled with a raw intensity that left you both breathless. It was a clash of desire, both of you giving as good as you got, lips and tongues moving in a heated dance that demanded everything and gave even more. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into nothingness as the only thing that mattered was the taste of her, the feel of her pressed against you, and the intoxicating way she responded to your every move.

You gasped, the sound escaping your lips before you could hold it back, as her thigh slid between yours with an effortless precision. The sensation was immediate, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending. Her muscles flexed against you, firm and powerful, and the friction was enough to make your breath hitch. It felt like electricity was dancing through your veins, each spark traveling directly to the core of your being, making your skin tingle with a fiery intensity.

A moan spilled from your lips, unabashed and raw, the sound of your desire filling the space between you. It was a sound you couldn't suppress even if you tried, a wanton expression of how deeply you craved her touch, how desperately you needed more“So sexy,” Lena breathed against your skin, her voice low and filled with a husky reverence that sent a thrill through your entire body. Her words were a caress in themselves, making you shiver as they lingered in the air between you. You could feel her breath, warm and teasing, ghosting over the sensitive spots of your neck, each exhale stirring the hairs there as her lips brushed against your skin. Her fingers, light and tantalising, began their descent once more, trailing down your body with a deliberate slowness that made you ache with anticipation.

Her touch was both gentle and electrifying, setting your nerves alight as she traced invisible patterns along your skin. The tension built with every inch she traveled, your body responding to her in ways you couldn’t control. You could feel the heat pooling deep within you, your breath coming in shallow gasps, your heart pounding in your chest like a drumbeat.

“Can I?” Lena’s voice was barely more than a whisper, the question hanging between you, heavy with promise. But you didn’t need to think, didn’t need to hesitate. You were nodding before she even finished her sentence, your need for her overwhelming any semblance of restraint.

“Yes, yes, please. Lena, please,” you begged, the words tumbling out of you in a rush, raw and unfiltered. Your voice was thick with desperation, each syllable laced with the fervour of your desire. You wanted her, needed her, more than anything, and you weren’t afraid to let her know. The way you said her name was almost a plea, your eyes locking onto hers, silently urging her to continue, to take you where you so desperately wanted to go.

Slowly, almost agonisingly so, she let her fingers glide over your skin, parting your flesh with a deliberate, teasing touch. The pace was torturously slow, every second stretched out as she took her time, savouring each moment, each reaction she drew from you. The anticipation built with every heartbeat, your body humming with the intensity of the moment, straining toward her with a desperate need for more.

When her fingers finally reached their destination, she paused, and you could hear the sharp intake of her breath, a gasp of surprise mingled with desire. The wetness she found there was undeniable, a testament to how much you wanted her, how much you had been aching for this touch. The sound of her gasp sent a shiver through you, a silent acknowledgment of the effect you were having on her.

Her fingers began to move, exploring you with a careful, attentive curiosity, as though she was mapping out every inch of your most intimate places. Each stroke, each delicate brush of her fingers, was like a spark igniting a fire within you, making your body respond instinctively to her touch. The way she moved was almost reverent, as though she was discovering something precious, and the slow, deliberate pace only heightened your arousal, making every moment feel like an eternity.

You couldn't quite pinpoint the exact reason for the overwhelming sensations that coursed through your body, but it was undeniable that everything was intensifying far faster than you could have anticipated. Was it the way your body had already been wound so tightly with anticipation, each touch from Lena pushing you closer and closer to the edge? Or perhaps it was how intimately Lena knew you, her familiarity with your every curve, your every weakness, allowing her to play you like a finely tuned instrument, hitting all the right notes with unerring precision.

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. It was Lena – the fact that it was her doing this to you, her hands, her lips, her voice coaxing you into a state of complete surrender. The sheer intensity of it all – the way Lena seemed to understand exactly what you needed without you having to say a word – only amplified the pleasure that was rapidly building inside you.

Embarrassingly quickly, you felt it start to happen, that familiar but almost overwhelming sensation beginning to gather within you. It was like a bubble, fragile yet unstoppable, growing larger and larger with each passing second, threatening to burst at any moment. The pressure mounted, your breath hitching in your throat as your body tightened in response, every nerve ending alive with sensation. You could hardly believe how quickly you were unravelling, how fast Lena was driving you to the brink, but there was no stopping it now – the bubble was on the verge of bursting, and all you could do was give in to the inevitability of it.

You groaned, a deep, primal sound that resonated from the very core of your being, as she finally sunk her fingers inside you. The sensation was immediate and intense, a mix of pleasure and pain that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. The stretch was a delicious sting, one that made your muscles tense and your breath hitch, a reminder of just how desperately you had been craving this connection.

The feeling of Lena’s fingers sliding deeper, filling you completely, was almost too much to bear. Your back arched off the bed, your body instinctively seeking more of that exquisite pressure, your hips lifting to meet her touch. It was as though your body had a mind of its own, responding to her every movement with a raw, uncontrollable need. The tension coiled tighter within you, a fire igniting in your belly that spread outward, consuming every thought, every sensation, until all that existed was her touch and the intoxicating pleasure that came with it.

Each thrust, each subtle twist of her fingers, sent waves of ecstasy crashing through you, your senses heightened to the point where every detail became magnified – the way her skin brushed against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths, the warmth of her body hovering above you. The delicious sting of the stretch only amplified the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge, making you cling to her as though she was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

“Are you close, baby?” Lena's voice was soft yet filled with an unmistakable urgency, her words dripping with both tenderness and desire. Her breath brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you were too far gone to respond coherently. Your body was a live wire, every nerve ending on high alert, and all you could manage was a ragged gasp as your eyes screwed shut, your breath coming in short, desperate pants. You were teetering on the edge, your mind clouded with the overwhelming intensity of the sensations crashing over you.

“D-don’t… don’t stop,” you finally managed to stammer, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and desperation. The words were barely coherent, slipping past your lips in a breathless plea, as if they were the only thing you could cling to in this storm of sensation.

Lena’s response was immediate, her voice a soothing anchor in the maelstrom of pleasure. “I won’t, I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured, her tone steady and reassuring, but laced with an undercurrent of passion that made your pulse race even faster. “You look so good, sound so sexy too. I can feel how tight you are, how hard you’re squeezing me.” Each word was like a spark, igniting the fire that was already blazing within you, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Her voice was a tantalising mix of praise and promise, and every syllable seemed to resonate deep inside you, amplifying the pleasure that was threatening to overwhelm you. “I bet you’re so beautiful when you cum,” she added, her voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

Each word she spoke brought you closer to the edge, the tension in your body winding tighter and tighter, until it felt as though you might shatter from the sheer intensity of it all. The bubble within you swelled to its breaking point, ready to burst at any moment, as Lena continued to work her hand in and out of you with a steady, relentless rhythm. The way her fingers moved, the way she knew exactly how to push you to your limits, was driving you wild, and all you could do was hold on, every fibre of your being focused on the inevitable, earth-shattering release that was just within reach.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head, the intense pleasure making it impossible to keep them open. The world seemed to tilt and blur as your senses were consumed by the overwhelming tidal wave of ecstasy. Your body arched involuntarily, a visceral response to the intense sensations coursing through you. It was as if every muscle in your body was trying to stretch, to reach out and embrace the intense pleasure that was building to a crescendo.

A guttural groan escaped your lips, raw and primal, as the first wave of your orgasm hit you. The sound was a reflection of the sheer intensity of what you were experiencing, a vocalisation of the bliss that was beyond words. The pleasure surged through you like lightning, an electrifying current that seemed to pulse through every nerve ending, igniting each one with a blinding brilliance. The sensation was so powerful it felt almost like an out-of-body experience, as though you were floating above yourself, completely enveloped in a storm of bliss.

The waves of ecstasy crashed over you in rapid succession, each one more intense than the last, washing away any remnants of coherence and leaving only the pure, unadulterated sensation. Your body shook with the force of the release, the contractions deep within you melding into a rhythm that seemed both endless and exquisite. The lightning of pleasure danced through your veins, making your skin tingle and your breath come in ragged gasps.

As the waves of your climax slowly began to ebb, you were left in a state of blissful exhaustion, your body still arching slightly as the aftershocks of your orgasm lingered. The intensity began to fade, but the lingering warmth and the residual pulse of pleasure left you feeling both spent and satisfied, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping your lips as you slowly came back to yourself.

“I was right,” Lena said softly, her voice a soothing murmur as she leaned in to press a gentle, tender kiss to your forehead. The touch of her lips was warm and affectionate, a delicate counterpoint to the intensity of the moments that had just passed. Her kiss was a silent affirmation of her feelings, a gentle reminder of the connection you shared, and it left you feeling both cherished and vulnerable.

“Huh?” you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and lingering pleasure. Your mind was still hazy, struggling to catch up with the present moment as you tried to make sense of her words. The clarity of your thoughts was just beginning to return, and you were still enveloped in the afterglow of your recent release.

“You look so beautiful when you cum,” Lena explained, her tone tender yet imbued with a sincerity that made her words all the more impactful. There was a softness in her gaze, a deep admiration that shone through her eyes, making it clear that her compliment was heartfelt and genuine. She seemed to be drinking in the sight of you, her eyes tracing the flushed contours of your face, the way your hair was slightly tousled, and the lingering traces of bliss that still adorned your features.

“Shut up,” you muttered, a blush creeping up your cheeks despite the lingering warmth of her touch. The compliment was unexpected and flattering, but it also made you feel a bit self-conscious. The heat rising in your cheeks was a testament to how deeply her words affected you, leaving you both embarrassed and pleased. You couldn’t help but hide your face a little, your shyness contrasting sharply with the intimacy of the moment.

Lena’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. She didn’t push further, allowing you the space to recover from the intense emotions, but her presence was comforting, her touch a constant reminder that this was real. “Never. I will never stop praising you, baby.”

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely I was wondering if you could do a fic about a touch starved reader where she’s just really needy and wants to be held but is nervous to ask? and it’s just very fluffy and sweet, thank you so much!!

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius is cozied up between James’ legs on the couch, tuned into his phone while James watches the football match on TV, and you’re oozing a jealousy so tender it hurts. 

It’s silly, but you can’t help thinking about how warm they must both be. James has one of his forearms draped over Sirius’ chest, their hands linked casually. Sirius’ bony, pale fingers intertwined with James’ thicker ones. They look comfortable and at ease with each other in a way that feels so out of reach. You wish you could join them, but they look too happy like this. You couldn’t ask them to move. 

“Dove?” 

You blink, focussing back on Remus. “Sorry?” 

“I asked how your meeting went.” A bit of concern digs into the space between his brows as he continues stirring the pot of soup on the stove. You give him a little smile, and it melts away. 

“Oh, not bad at all.” Today you had your first team meeting at your new job. You’d been nervous leading up to it, worried your boss would ask you to introduce yourself or present something, but it had blown over smoothly. “I was stressed for nothing, I didn’t even have to talk.” 

“Mm, good for you.” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, well aware that your shyness can sometimes get in the way of you sharing your ideas. “I’m glad it went well. I hope you start to feel comfortable enough to talk soon, though.” 

“Maybe,” you say agreeably, moving closer to him so you can rest the side of your head on his bicep. It’s an awkward sort of lean, but the most you’ll allow yourself. 

You can sense Remus’ confusion even without him making a sound. You know that if you pulled back to look, you’d find a familiar little indent hovering above his nose. “Tired?” he asks. 

Your heart gives a pitiful throb. Remus isn’t the most tactile of your boyfriends, but it would take so little for him to reach up with his free hand, wrap it around your shoulders. That’s all you want.

“No,” you reply, though you do sound tired, voice soft and breathy, “just love you.” 

“Sweetheart.” His voice is sticky with affection, and your heart balloons with hope. You feel his arm shift underneath you. His hand comes up to hold your cheek, keeping you steady while he presses a brief kiss to the top of your head. The hand falls away. “I love you too.” 

It feels ungrateful and a bit traitorous to feel so dejected after hearing those words, but you do. You leave your head where it is, heavy with a loneliness that’s completely invalid, while Remus continues stirring the soup, humming now. 

“Look at them.” Sirius’ voice gets your attention from the living room, dripping with faux rancor. He’s glowering at you over the top of the couch. James begrudgingly turns from the match to look at him, half curious what he’s on about. “They’re being all ooey gooey in the kitchen without us, can you believe it?” 

You sort of want to laugh at the irony. 

“You were given the opportunity to join,” Remus reminds him mildly. “I said I needed help chopping, and only y/n came to my aid.” 

“Yes, well I didn’t know there’d be declarations of love involved,” says Sirius, never one to be made to feel guilty. 

James, on the other hand, looks a tad penitent. 

“I didn’t hear you,” he says helplessly, climbing out from under Sirius. “Do you still need an extra pair of hands?”

“No, almost done now,” Remus says, but James comes anyway. He peers over Remus’ other shoulder, pecking him apologetically on the cheek. 

“Smells great,” he notes appreciatively. He leans across Remus to see your face, grinning in that way of his that makes it seem like someone’s brought the sun inside. “Thanks for taking up the mantle.” 

You make a quiet sound of amusement, and James’ smile fades. You hate yourself for doing it to him, even though it wasn’t intentional.

“You alright, lovie?” He scrutinizes your expression. You’re reminded that James is often more perceptive than you give him credit for. “You look a bit sad.” 

“No, I’m good.” You give him a smile. Remus’ shoulder shifts under your head as he looks down, trying to see you. 

James appears unconvinced. He moves behind Remus, over to where you stand. “Hug?” he offers. 

God, you feel like you could cry. That wouldn’t be good.

“Sure,” you say, as if it isn’t the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. 

You turn into his arms, and he wastes no time in enveloping you. James gives the best hugs. Somehow, intuitively, he always knows just the amount of pressure you need, when to squeeze your back and when to rub it, exactly the right time to let go. It feels like he’s pouring love into you through his touch. He sets his chin on top of your head, and you swallow a happy sigh. 

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” he says quietly. He sweeps a hand up and down your spine, and you shiver, pressing your palms into his back. He does it again. “Talk to me, angel.” 

“I’m good,” you promise him. It’s a lot more truthful now. 

Still, you can feel James’ dissatisfaction. He cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the baby hairs at your nape. “Anything I can do?” 

You clutch him to you, the fabric of his sweatshirt bunching in your hands. It smells like laundry detergent. “Just this, please.” 

“Aww,” Sirius croons, and it’s not until then that you realize the other two boys have been silent. Probably worried about you. You feel instantly sheepish. “I get it. You just wanted some love, didn’t you babydoll?” You look at him over James' shoulder, and predictably, he’s insufferably smug. He sees you watching and pats the top of the couch invitingly. “Come here, sweet thing, let me fix you up.” 

“I think I’m doing just fine,” James teases, but his grip loosens, one hand remaining on the small of your back as he walks you over to the couch. 

“Yeah, but we can share.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He grabs for you the second you’re close enough, hauling you up against him while James flops down on your other side. “What game are you playing, standing over there and looking all forlorn?” he asks you, peppering your cheek with kisses. A startled giggle spurts out of you, but he remains completely serious. “If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask.”

“It seemed dramatic,” you admit, though now that Sirius has got your face squished in his hand and James’ arm is draped around your shoulder, your silence feels a bit dramatic too. “And kind of needy.” 

“Babe.” Sirius is heartbroken, pulling back to give you a horrified look. “Being needy is my thing. I hardly think asking for a hug could challenge my hard-earned reputation.”

“You’re not needy,” you say warmly, but Sirius only rolls his eyes as if you’re being difficult.

“Anyway, wanting a hug is hardly needy,” James chimes in. “I’m always happy to give you one.” 

“Same here,” Remus says from the kitchen, sounding a bit apologetic. “Though I wish you would have asked, dove. I can’t read minds like Jamie can.” 

Your chest tightens guiltily. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he says easily. “Listen, dinner’s almost done, but want to put on a film to watch while we eat? I could make it up to you with a cuddle.” 

“That sounds great,” you reply thankfully, and James grabs the remote to begin going through the movies while Sirius gets comfy against the side of the couch. He lifts your legs to drape them over his. 

“Good luck getting you away from me,” he murmurs conspiratorially. James chuckles, arm a welcome weight around your shoulders. “I’m not giving you up.” 

It seems like there was room for you after all.

[holybibly]

I don't know about you bunnies, but I can never get enough of Seonghwa. So here are the unholy thoughts of the day

You never liked noisy offices and crowds. You've always been uncomfortable with the constant hustle and bustle and toxicity of office spaces, so when your boss offered you the chance to work from home, you jumped at the chance.

The first year was great; the second year you started to worry about the complete lack of social communication; and the third year you decided you'd had enough.

No more solo activities because you decided to adopt a hybrid.

The idea of adopting a gorgeous feline or arctic fox hybrid, or maybe even a cute little puppy of some kind of small breed, was something you found incredibly appealing.

So why did you end up bringing home Hwa and Seonghwa, who were so very different from each other?

Hwa was an excitable, needy bunny with the biggest, almost starry eyes, a problem with being overly tactile, and a constant desire for attention and affection. From the moment he saw you at the adoption centre, he was all over you, everywhere you went. As bunny, he needed special care, especially sexually, but also, Hwa was too affectionate and quickly became attached, so it was no surprise that he literally melted into you, burying his pretty face in your chest and squealing happily.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, was not the most obvious choice for a pet, being a sexy, mesmerising, and calm snake hybrid. But there was something about you that warmed him up. Even though Hwa completely surrounded you with his body, Seonghwa somehow managed to get close enough to you to lick your neck with his forked tongue.

It was so hard for you to get used to both of them, especially since both of the hybrids turned out to be more than needy and clingy, even if in completely different ways.

Seonghwa loved to cuddle with you; the warmth of your soft, gentle body was an attraction and a seduction for him. In the beginning, it was all very innocent. He would cuddle up to you while you were working, while you were watching a film or reading on the couch in the living room, and even while you were sleeping. But the more time that Seonghwa spent with you, the more he began to crave a different kind of warmth from you.

It all started with his hands under your shirt and the slow, almost lazy way he ran his fingertips over your skin. Then came the touch of his sensual, plump lips on your neck and the cold, wet licks of his forked tongue. When Seonghwa realised that you wouldn't push him away, he became bolder, more insistent, and more sexy. And that's how you ended it, sitting on Seonghwa's lap while he was happily warming up his cock in your pussy. The way that your hot, wet walls wrapped themselves around his thick, long cock was almost enough to drive him crazy.

You could stay like this for hours. But Seonghwa's greed only increased, as did his possessive side and, of course, his thirst to breed.

So it did not come as a surprise to you that the sessions to warm up his cock turned into long and tiring hours of passionate, almost animalistic sex or the dirty, non-stop eating of your pussy.

As for Hwa, from the first second you found yourself at home, the gentle, super-affectionate bunny was literally inseparable from you. Unlike the calculating and calmer Seonghwa, the bunny turned into a horny, needy mess at the slightest touch, so when you found him in your bed the first night after you adopted him, with his sugary, glistening lips wrapped around your nipple, you knew what your relationship with him would be like.

Kissing, touching, licking, biting, and all that without end. He didn't care what you did; he always wanted you, and he craved you so passionately that he wasn't at all ashamed of the fact that there was always a wet spot on his trousers from his leaking dick. It just proved how much he liked you. While you had some time to relax with Seonghwa, Hwa didn't let you breathe and always demanded your attention.

Are you working on the computer? This is the perfect time to bury my face in your pussy and suck your clitor and lick your little hole like the sweetest treat. Are you taking a bath? Hwa is already at your side to finger your pussy or warm his dick while you relax in the hot water. Are you cooking? That's no reason for him to resist bending you over the kitchen counter. Like Seonghwa, Hwa had an incredible thirst for breeding. Your pussy was always full of his sperm, which flowed down your legs, upsetting the charming rabbit and, what's the strangest thing, the calm snake.

You even had to stop wearing underwear at home to protect your expensive lace from being constantly sticky and wet.

Worst of all, despite being different species, Hwa and Seonghwa got along well together and even teamed up to attack you.

When your hybrids decided to play with you at the same time, it usually ended with you riding Hwa while your rabbit hungrily sucked on your tits, looking up at you with adoring eyes, squealing with pleasure, and roughly kneading your thighs until they were covered in red, aggressive marks. Seonghwa grabbed you from behind, wrapping his hand around your throat and choking you. His cock slid in and out of you in a completely different rhythm from Hwa's thrusts. His silky, hissing voice whispered the most depraved and dirty things to you, driving you even crazier.

The contrast between the blazing cold Seonghwa and the scorching warm Hwa was so stunning and striking that it brought you to orgasm within minutes. But when the boys started playing, it only ended when they were completely satisfied with you and your stomach was swollen from the amount of sperm they had poured into you.

Usually, you couldn't walk normally after that, and your whole body was covered with hickeys, bruises, and bites. Maybe you regretted your decision to adopt Hwa and Seonghwa. Sometimes, it was quite difficult to deal with them at the same time, not only because of their different types but also because of their too-needy and demanding characters. But when you felt their loving and caring arms around you as you came to after another orgasm, you thought that maybe it was the best decision you ever made in your life.

[heavenbarnes]

Hello I’m ruminating on olderbf!Simon and how down bad I am for him. I have so many thoughts that do not relate to each other but I would love to just braindump on ya if I may!

-olderbf!Simon and reader obviously into voyeurism/exhibitionism with the other 141 and hearing all of their dirty thoughts, but I get the sense that Simon would NOT like to hear literally anyone else talking that way about his girl. Like if a recruit or lower rank soldier saw reader and said something gross in earshot of Simon we might actually have a murder on our hands. What do you think?

-when/if reader ever gets bratty, how might Simon punish her? Maybe instead of having punishment sex he would actually withhold his dick from her? But then ofc he’s also horny and depraved so it ends up being as much of a punishment for him

-how do you envision them sharing a bed? Are they big spooners or does Simon run so hot that reader can’t handle him being nearby?

Anyway I need to lie down now I’m unwell about him xoxo

read this in the carpark before work and had to ruminate on it all day until now 🫶🏼

there was an internal battle your older bf!simon was facing. there was a part of him, a filthy part of him, that damn near needed everyone to know how good you could be for him.

but there was a bigger part that’d rather die than have anyone think of you like that.

enter 141.

men that simon could literally trust with his life, knew him better than anyone (anyone other than you). he could trust them with his life and he could trust them with a group chat full of your most intimate moments.

however, anyone else tried to even think about you? intimately or not?

there wasn’t a place they could hide.

“jesus, L.T- the fuckin’ sight a’that”

“woah, the things i’d do to-“

one stone faced expression hidden behind a balaclava, another fighting a shit eating grin off his face.

“i’d start runnin’ if i wa’you”

not like they’d ever be able to run fast enough.

and your older bf!simon knows orders better than anyone. lives by them, loves by them.

so when you’ve acted out, he knows that you need an order- need something to get you back to sweet and pliant like he’s used to.

no use fucking it back into you, minute he sinks even the tip in- it’s him going dumb and forgetting what the mission even was.

he has to go to the next extreme.

“no touchin’, sweet’art”

your hands went back under your thighs, back pressed to the arm of the couch as you watched the man in front of you. fucking hell.

simon had one rough hand wrapped around his cock, wrist twisting as he tugged himself off. the sounds of his broken moans, the spit slick of his palm.

pure fucking torture.

“please, si”

that nearly did it, he nearly gave in with one little whimper from you.

“i’ll be good”

simon’s eyes flickered up the length of you, eyes locking with yours. he could see the well of tears on your lower lashes, he could see the way your lip was fixed between your teeth.

“what’ya say then?”

crawling, fucking crawling across the couch to him- you let him feed the tip into your mouth, muffling your words as you spoke.

“m’sorry si”

and when it’s you and your older bf!simon in your bed at the end of a long day, there’s nothing quite like it for him.

he has to be touching you.

up to him? he likes to be spooning you, curve of your back against his chest and your ass nestled nicely against his cock.

where you belong.

but the man’s big and that means that man’s warm so sometimes he has to settle for a hand against your stomach or a leg between yours.

just as long as he’s touching you.

he’s happiest, however, when your head is on his chest and he can see your peaceful little face rise and fall with his breathing. to him, he can almost imagine you exist as one.

when he can hear your little breaths, the tiny (or not so tiny) snores drifting out your lips as he traces the lines of your face with a long finger.

tactile guy is our simon, but only when it comes to you.

[icejjfishesz]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 ❞ 𓄼˚ ▍ K.M.

❛ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆             ━━  insomnia often plagued kate and she swears you’re the remedy. ❜

❛ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁                ━━  reader is lowk me coded!! sorry!!! ❜

❛ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁         ━━  625 ❜

❛ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲      ━━  this is supa shortttt ❜  

YOU COULD STILL VAGUELY FEEL HER LIPS attached to the crease of your neck even posterior to her detaching them from your smooth flesh. her chest pressed against your back, a movie neither of you are really watching playing in the background. you’re two lovebirds wrapped in each other's warmth, her pelvis against your butt as she pulls you even closer. kate’s curious fingertips managed to case their way underneath your sweatshirt to rest over your abdomen –– toasty hands over your cold skin. sometimes, you could forget how tactile kate could be: she could never keep her hands off of you.

“you look so pretty today.” every syllable earnest and for you. the familiar scratch in her voice met your ears and it settled a warmth across your skin. also familiar. kind of like the feeling of her hands on your hips or breath against your face when she stares into your enamored eyes. you feel yourself crawling away from the feeling she forces you into –– that lovey dovey, allconsuming feeling. eyes screwing shut before their focus lands on the television again. your heart pounds in your chest like it’s trying to escape to meet her half way so you swallow it down and prepare your lips for a snarky remark. so i didn’t look pretty yesterday? 

“don’t even say it –– you know you look pretty every day.” she reminds you yet again of how well she knows you. instead of just two bodies, you are two sets of hands and harmonious, parallel minds. you chuckle, the sound eliciting her to bare her teeth to you in an enraptured manor. “thank you for coming…”

you breathe out a gentle laugh, pad of your index tracing over her knuckles. “turn over…”

she obeys, albeit reluctantly. your hands meet both her cheeks, feeling how they grow warm underneath your devoted stare.  “i’ll be there anytime you need me, kate. even if you just want me to tuck you in.” 

“okay that’s not what i asked.” her words provoke laughter to escape the aperture of your lips, leaving a benevolent smile in it’s place once the laughter subsides. “and i actually need you here. cause you’re the cure.” 

“the cure?” tender and inquisitive hands knead in her blonde locks, trailing within them and savoring the softness against the pads of your fingertips. her eyes flutter shut, drowning in the waves of her own personal heaven you craft for her with just your touch. 

“yeahhhh.” she elongates, austerely shrugging as if what she’s saying makes perfect sense, as if you truly could be the remedy for all her problems –– including her insomnia. “i can sleep when you’re here.”

you don’t argue, instead, opting to humor her. “so somehow me bein’ here will put you to sleep?”

“mhm…” she continues her ministrations, kissing at your neck again with ardent lips. “you always put me right to sleep.”

“that sounds…vaguely sexual.” 

“shut up.”

you laugh again, reaching for the forlorn blanket at the edge of the bed, no doubt tossed there as a result of her frustration from not being able to succumb to slumber on her own. you could hear it in her voice when she called you; undeniable vexation. 

“i love you.” her voice is barely audible, enervation spreading across her all over. kate licks her lips, barely able to awake long enough to hear you say it back. her languid eyelids slowly rise and fall, letting you know that she’s falling asleep. her arm, slipped underneath you in order to keep you in lovely proximity, will surely be numb tomorrow. she pushes her face into your chest, she’ll never let you go. you don’t mind, nuzzling against the apex of her head. 

“i love you too. goodnight, kate.”

[of-many-fandomss]

hey can you write that Carlos Sainz is his wife Y/N (she is also Spanish) are nicknamed the couple the funny ones in the paddock because they often play pranks on each other on TikTok and they often tease each other because they have the same personality as it's their humor and that they are both tactile

The Funny Ones

Summary: a reporter asks about you and your husbands ways of pranking one another

Parings: Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count: 0.2k

A/N: Please don’t judge- this is the shortest thing I’ve ever written but I don’t feel like going back and adding more to it

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“So, you and your wife have been dubbed the ‘funny couple’ around the paddock,” The reporter speaking wore a big smile on her face, “You’re both known for constantly pulling pranks on one another and posting it on your social media platforms.”

Carlos grinned, features lighting up at the mere mention of you, “I’d like to say we both have the same sense of humor that makes it easy for us to joke around with one another like that without worrying about hurt feelings.” He joked.

“You two definitely have made a name for yourself in that aspect. From hiding and jumping out to scare one another to various TikTok trends, it seems like there’s never a break.” The woman smiled, seeing the clear look of love and adoration that rested in the man’s eyes.

Sainz’s eyes flickered past her and his features lit up even more- if that was even possible- his grin widening even more, “Speak of the devil!” He teased just as you came into view of the camera.

“Good to see you too, mi amor.” You smiled with a slight eye roll, allowing his arm to rest around your waist as you leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

“We were just talking about you!” The reporter explained, “How you and your husband have become internet favorites with your constant pranks.”

“What can I say?” You smiled, playfully bumping your hip against Carlos, “This guy is too easy to mess with.”

It was then his turn to roll his eyes, gently poking you in the side, “Very funny.”

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

← Smutlet Masterlist

18+ Edging

An hour! He had been at it for an hour. It felt like an eternity. But Bucky was a patient man. He knew the value of fortitude. The value of tenacity. So much so that your pleas might as well have fallen on deaf ears. His touch made you melt, regardless of the situation, but when he was trying, you were his to mold. You were putty in his hands. He knew your body like his own, the things you liked, the things you loved, the things that drove you crazy. His own body responded to yours. But when this mood came over him, nothing else could distract him from his plans.

“Keep your eyes on me, Doll. You’re doing so well.”

You were bare before him, just how he liked you. Every part of you accessible to his eager needs. He found himself between your legs, grinding against your core. It didn’t take long for you to turn into a squirming mess as he rutted against you. You were so close when he bent forwards to capture your nipple between his lush pink lips, making your hips stutter, losing your rhythm and breaking the tension in your tightly wound coil.

“I thought I taught you better than this, Doll? Such a needy little princess.”

He was possessive. No one got to touch you but him. You weren’t even allowed to please yourself when he got like this. You belonged to him and him alone. Bucky was a tactile person. He liked to feel. You in particular. With his fingers, with his tongue, with his cock. He was addicted. To the softness of your skin, the plumpness of your lips, to the firmness of your ass and breasts. You offered him a level of trust like no one had before. And he liked the control. He loved the way you responded to his touch. The sounds you made. The way you looked when he was inside you.

“Don’t hold back, Doll. Show me how much you need me.”

Not that he always showed the same restraint when it came to his own needs. His pants were around his ankles without hesitation. Stroking his swollen member as he stood between your spread legs. He gazed longingly at your glistening cunt. Teasing himself with the arousal that coated your folds. Mixing his juices with yours. Maybe he would allow you one taste, just to see how well your essences complimented each other. He would have you hooked on the cocktail of your desires. Your hips bucked longingly as he pushed into you.

“Can’t get enough, can you, Doll? Can’t get enough of my thick cock deep inside you?”

The devilish grin that painted his face told you he meant to only tease you. Give you but a taste of his talents. The ridges of his cock stroked your sheath, stretching your walls, but leaving you just short of a release. Of course, this didn’t stop him. He tilted himself away from your most sensitive spot, leaving you begging him mercilessly. He spilled his scorching white seed into you. His throbbing shaft pulsed inside, filling you to the brim. You were so close when he pulled out of you. Bucky gathered his cum leaking from your cunt and pushed it back into you. Your moans imploring your release.

“Louder, baby. Let me hear you. Does that feel good?”

Bucky chuckled at your frustration. The denial, the control. He got off on it. He kneeled down between your legs, his face inches away from where you wanted it most. He blew softly against your cum-filled pussy. Making your clit tingle with anticipation. He spread your folds, amused by the eager thrusts of your hips, meeting nothing but air. He taunted you, dangling your release in front of you like a proverbial carrot.

“Do you want my fingers or my tongue?”

He didn't give you a chance to answer as he licked a stripe up from your hole, tasting you. Reveling in the whimpers falling off your lips.

“You taste so good. I will never get enough of you.”

He hummed his approval, licking his lips. He tried again, tongue making contact with your clit. Again and again. Faster and faster. Until you were pleading with him.

“Just hold on for me, Doll. Just a little longer.”

His voice was soft but filled with authority. You would do as you were told. Bucky's lips circled your clit, sucking roughly. Making you scream from the sensitivity and pleasure. You thrust into his mouth, grinding at the same pace as he put more pressure on your swollen nub.

“Count to ten for me, Doll. Nice and slow. Then you get to cum. Understand?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, nodding, willing your mind to focus.

“But remember, Doll, any signs of you trying to cum before that, and you're going to be sorry.”

You took a deep breath and spoke. One. Your hands made fists into the bedsheets in your effort to stay sane. Two. His nose brushed your clit as his tongue pushed into your cunt. Three. Bucky hummed, the vibrations his voice sent into you almost had you losing control. Barely holding on to your sense of control, you took another step. Four. He took his vibranium hand off your thigh and used it to spread your folds. Five. 

“That's my good girl, just a little more. Just hang in there and I'm going to make you feel so good.”

Six. You muffled a sob against your fist. Seven. He was licking every inch of you. Eight. Your back arched as he pushed his fingers inside you. Nine. They grazed your sweet spot, testing the boundaries of your climax. Ten!

“Cum for me, Doll!”

You shook from the pleasure, eyes rolling back. There were fireworks. Bucky held you, supported you, helped ride out your orgasm. You lay limp in his arms, spent from the effort, basking in the exhilaration. Bucky smiled down at you.

“Good girl.”

[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the fall

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.” He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

Summary: surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, mentions of wounds

Words: 9.1k

Before you swing in: this is it !!! last official chapter of season 2 :) this chapter is pure fluff yall. just 9k words of utter disgusting bug n steve, so i hope it makes up for how long it took for them to get to this point lmao. enjoy !

-

True to your promise with Jonathan, nothing necessarily changes between the two of you; things just shift. You stop being so tactile with him out of respect for Nancy, now only reaching for his hand for comfort rather than to have him so near. It takes some trial and error, but eventually the two of you manage to strike up a good balance.

You still spend most of your days either together at his house or yours. Only now, Nancy accompanies you, and it’s lovely.

“Dustin told me that Steve practically drooled over you last night before the Snowball.” Jonathan teases you, hunched over his kitchen table scribbling a half-assed essay that’s already a day late.

Nancy giggles as you throw your pencil at the boy. “That did not happen, mind your own business.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. He kept staring at you today during lunch.” Nancy slides over her paper and taps her pencil on a particular problem she’s stuck on. She’s still getting used to talking about this with you, but she pushes aside her unease and tries anyway. “Do you know the answer for number five?”

Her words cause you to blush, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Steve last night. You told him you’d wait for him, and he looked at you as if you’d promised him the world and more. Then, today at lunch, Steve had boldly found you sitting with Nancy and Jonathan outside and joined.

It was a welcome change, and he sat so close to you that your thighs pressed together underneath the picnic bench you’d been eating at.

“He wasn’t staring at me,” you mumble, embarrassed and still feeling his weight pressed against you, before sliding your paper over to Nancy. “And I got Henry Ford.”

Frowning, Nancy erases her answer. “That makes no sense.”

“My answer or Steve not staring at me?”

“Both.” Nancy and Jonathan say at the same time.

You throw another pencil at Jonathan. “I wasn’t talking to you, write your late essay.”

He ducks, “Would you stop?”

“Not unless you stop speaking.”

“This is my house, bug–”

“And I can call your mom right now and she’d let me stay.” You cross your arms at Jonathan, knowing you’ve already won the argument. “Any more complaints?”

Jonathan goes back to writing his essay, grumbling under his breath about how you can’t keep pulling the mom card, and you giggle at his anger alongside Nancy. He’s the one who wanted the two of you to get along, he should’ve known that you and Nancy would just make his life miserable.

The three of you go back to working quietly at the table, you and Nancy occasionally asking each other for help on certain questions, while Jonathan grows more and more frustrated by his essay. After he’s angrily scribbled out his fifth line, Nancy snatches the paper from him and points towards the back door.

“Out,” she tells him.

Jonathan blinks. “What?”

“Go outside, take a small walk, and calm down. You’re frustrated and won’t get anywhere if you keep this up.”

They stare at each other, Nancy silently daring him to argue with her, and you watch in amusement. She has him wrapped around her finger, and after only a few seconds, Jonathan sighs and gets up from the kitchen table. “I’m doing this because I want to, alright?”

You snort. “Sure, buddy.”

He gives you the finger, presses a kiss to Nancy’s forehead, and then grabs a coat to go outside.

Once he’s gone, Nancy turns to you and sets down her pencil. “So, how long are you planning on pretending that Steve doesn’t like you?”

You whip your head up, dropping your pencil in the process, startled by her forward question. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I…” Though you’ve slowly gotten used to Nancy being with Jonathan, it still feels too soon to talk to her about Steve, even if she’s given you her blessing. It feels too raw, too inappropriate, to discuss it with her. “I don’t think we should talk about this–”

“C’mon, Y/N. It’s obvious he at least feels something for you, and if anyone deserves Steve, it’s you.” Nancy gently takes your hand, her voice sincere. “He came outside for lunch looking for you today, he drove you to the Snowball, he’s been visiting you at work ever since you smiled at him last year.”

You look away from her. “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s not…” Nancy swallows, clears her throat, and looks away as well. It still has taken her time to adjust to the shift between the four of you, to finally understand that it’s now okay to talk about these things with one another. “It’s not because of me, right?”

A beat of silence passes, and when you don’t say anything, Nancy sighs. “Shit.”

“He’s still healing, Nance.” You admit, feeling bad for bringing this upon her. You don’t want her to feel responsible for any of it, it’s not her fault that the boys you’ve loved have loved her first. The wound of it has healed now, though the scar that it has left will never fade.

You both know this, neither one of you want to admit it to the other.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She shakes her head, the familiar guilt of somehow always the one hurting you clawing at her. “I wish things had been different between me and him.”

You shrug, you don’t see any reason to blame her. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t wish things had been different between the two of you,” you admit, knowing how bizarre it may sound. When Nancy raises her eyebrows, you’re quick to explain. “What I mean is, if Steve had never been with you, who knows who he’d be now? Or if Jonathan had never been my best friend, would you still have found each other?”

Nancy bites her lip, still unconvinced. “I don’t know, Y/N…”

“I think, truthfully, that we all unwound with who we were supposed to.” You’re not sure how to explain this, to express your unusual way of viewing such complex situations. “Without our histories, without being so intertwined with one another, I don’t think we ever would’ve unwound how we were supposed to. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Nancy nods, although hesitant. “And Steve is still… Unwinding from me?”

You cringe, knowing how silly it all sounds. “I know it sounds dumb, but he is, and while I’m not saying he doesn’t like me… I told him to take his time.”

“You’d really wait for him?”

“I would.”

Nancy sighs and goes back to her assignment, continuously amazed by your selflessness. “You’re too good.”

You shrug again, now used to being told this by others. It doesn’t bother you like it used to, you’ve come to view your kindness as something wholly yours and no one else’s to understand. It took so much violence to become so kind, and you will never, ever apologize for it now. “It adds to my charm.”

Jonathan walks back in right as Nancy bursts into loud laughter, you do as well, the remaining tension between you and her now gone. He sees the way she clutches her stomach and how you have to grab onto the table so you don’t fall over as you laugh. “Did I miss something?”

You wipe at your eyes, still giggling. “No, bee. Sit down and do your work.”

“Yeah,” Nancy giggles again, feeling breathless. “What Y/N said.”

“You two are the worst.” Jonathan slumps in his seat and goes back to his essay.

“You love us,” you tease, knowing that he hasn’t told Nancy this yet.

He smiles shyly and avoids Nancy’s eye. “Yeah, I do.”

They both blush and there’s a childish energy to them, shy and soft and sweet. You watch them with a warm smile, endlessly happy for them both; they’re sweet to watch, still shy around one another.

As you watch Jonathan and Nancy giggle softly as they help each other with their assignments, looking over at you for help as well, you know that junior year is finally starting to look up.

–

Steve continues to join you, Jonathan, and Nancy for lunch. He makes himself a permanent seat next to you, never once straying far from your side, and eventually he even ends up back in the library with the three of you.

It’s reminiscent of your sophomore year, back when you’d just defeated the Demogorgon and Nancy had gone back to Steve. For a brief few months, you’d all study in the library together and formed your own nice, albeit tense, group.

Then lines and threads became tangled and unspoken feelings became harsh actions.

Now, Nancy and Jonathan are whispering about something, off in their own world, and you’re currently helping Steve with an English assignment.

It’s the last day before winter break, so it’s hard getting him to pay attention to what you’re saying. All he can focus on is the way you’ve pinned your hair up, some pieces of hair falling over your face, and how you look so lovely in your white sweater.

“Are you listening to me?” You ask him, narrowing your eyes.

Steve coughs, knowing he’s been caught. “Yeah, totally.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, distancing yourself from the boy, which only makes him frown. “What did I just say, then?”

“C’mere,” he huffs at you, tugging at your chair so that you’re now pressed flush against him; just the way he likes it. You blush, your stomach flutters wildly at the idea that he can’t be more than five inches away from you. Steve sees this, sends you a wink, and tries to use this to his advantage. “We both know I wasn’t listening, angel.”

Angel.

It’s become his new name for you, though he hasn’t said it since the night of the Snowball; the name drips from his lips as if saturated in sunlight. Although you want to litter his face with kisses and call him lovely and handsome and wonderful, you know that in this instance, Steve has only used the nickname to get on your good side.

And two can play that game.

“I don’t know, honey.” You lean in closer to Steve, angling your head so that you look up at him while you use your own name for him. His breath always hitches when you look up at him like this, when you call him honey again for the first time all sweet and soft. “I was hoping you’d been listening.”

Steve gulps, he’s still not used to the way your voice dips low when you want his attention. How when you call him honey he swears he can taste the residue of it in his mouth. He leans closer as well, your faces inches apart, and he’s forgotten what the two of you are even talking about. “I–I’m sorry?”

As soon as he’s apologized, you pull yourself away, just before Steve’s lips land on yours, and go back to the English assignment. You’re immensely pleased with yourself, especially when Steve almost face plants against the library table when you suddenly move away. “Apology accepted! Now, let’s go back to Shakespeare, shall we?”

Steve’s jaw drops, only now realizing that he’s been tricked. “Oh, that was evil, Y/N.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink at him, and Steve has never wanted to kiss a smirk off of someone’s face more.

He’s addicted to it, honestly.

Later that day, once school has let out, Steve drives you to work. This was another shift that came with Jonathan and Nancy getting together. While your best friend still drives you to school, it’s now Steve who drives you to work and picks you up.

He enjoys spending the time with you, having you all to himself during the simple ten minute drive to Bookstrordinary. The two of you rarely say much during these drives, and it’s everything Steve could ask for and more; he simply has you with him, nothing else needs to be said or done.

Mrs. Waters greets him with a knowing smile, the woman has become more invested in Steve’s infatuation with you than even your mother. “Hello, young man.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” Steve gives her a wave and walks over to his usual station: behind the counter, waiting for you.

You give your boss a quick hug and clock in. “Any new shipments today?”

“All the new books are in the back, so make sure your handsome man does all the heavy lifting, sweetie.” Mrs. Waters giggles at her own words before she slowly makes her way into her office.

“Well,” you nudge Steve. “You heard the woman, you’re a handsome man. Go do the heavy lifting.”

The compliment, though indirect, still rolls over Steve in slow, warm waves. He smiles bashfully at you. “Handsome, huh?”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if you didn’t know.” You flick his nose and walk over to the back door to start retrieving the new shipment. “Seriously, though. Could you help me with these boxes?”

Steve is quick to run over and help, he will always be happy to help you, but before he picks up a box, a thought occurs to him. Leaning against the doorframe, he smirks at you. “I’ll help, after you explain to me that little stunt you pulled earlier in the library.”

“What stunt?” A huff escapes you as you try to pick up a box, but Mrs. Waters had been right. The shipment is heavy, and Steve is currently useless.

“The whole ‘honey’ thing.”

You look up at Steve, knowing exactly what he’s asking, but you toy with him anyways. “Only if you explain the whole ‘angel’ thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groans, annoyed that you’re so good at dodging all of his questions. He doesn’t know what makes you Hendersons so great at deception, but it’s a terrifying thing to witness. “You’re an angel, it’s a fitting name for you.”

Though you’d been expecting him to say this, hearing Steve’s explanation still causes you to blush. Normally it bothers you when people call you an angel and act as if you’re some person above everyone else, but with Steve you know that he means it so genuinely. To him, you’re an angel because he knows you so well.

He doesn’t view you as this innocent creature that can do no wrong; Steve knows how you came to be, he knows the anger you once held, and it’s because of this that he has come to view you as angelic. It takes a lot for someone to become kind again, and Steve knows this better than anyone else.

“You’re sweet honey,” you finally respond, your face still warm from the vulnerability. You want to try for him, become okay with the feeling of being seen. “You asked for a nickname, and that’s what I’ve landed on. Any more questions?”

Steve practically melts against the doorway, and you almost giggle at the sight. “I’m honey?”

“Mhm, sweet honey, but honey sounds less dramatic.”

He laughs, his head is spinning and he’s so enamored with you. “Okay, I like that, but can I ask one more question before I agree to helping you?”

You roll your eyes but nod, secretly enjoying this moment with him. “Ask away.”

“Why honey? Not that I’m complaining, but…” Steve shrugs. “Not so creative.”

You gasp, “Are you saying you don’t accept my nickname for you?”

“No! I–” Steve frantically tries to correct what he’s said, but you grab his hand to calm him down.

“Relax, Steve. I was teasing,” you give his hand a squeeze, his fingers are strong against yours, and take a deep breath. The explanation is more intimate than you’d like, but he deserves to know. “Did you know that honey can be used to treat wounds?”

Steve shakes his head, silent as he listens.

“It’s a natural remedy, an unsuspecting cure, disguised as something only sweet.” You’re suddenly shy again, but you offer Steve more of yourself because you can; because he’s here, all warmth and love and summer. He’s healed wounds within you that you hadn’t known existed until you noticed their scars fading—cuts that have littered your skin from abandonment, guilt, and love. “When I was young, my dad would take me to this local farm on my birthday every summer and he would buy me honey. We’d use it to make sweet tea.”

You pause, the memory practically on your tongue as you remember the taste of the local farmer’s honey and how it would drizzle, slow and smooth, into your sweet tea. You remember your father’s laugh, how he would boast to the entire town that his sweet tea could win awards. “I never really liked tea, but my dad’s sweet tea was amazing.”

The honey had been his secret ingredient.

Steve is quiet after you’ve finished your story. He takes his time responding, he allows the story you’ve told to sink in, he rolls it around in his head, memorizes its details. He knows that you don’t like talking about your father, and the fact that you’ve shared a happy memory about him with Steve…

“Thank you,” he says. There’s a weight behind his thanks, he knows he will never be able to put into words how much this means to him. He tries, though, and pours every truth that he can into his words, “I love the nickname.”

The two of you begin unpacking the new shipment of books after that, working silently side by side.

It’s a lovely summer day within Bookstrordinary, even though it’s the middle of winter in Hawkins.

–

This Christmas Eve, you have your entire kitchen on lockdown. No one is allowed to come in, all food and drinks have been thrown onto the dining room table for others to use. Your hair is tied up, your apron is on, and you’ve banished Dustin from even looking at you.

“This is excessive, even for you.” Dustin scoffs from the living room, annoyed that he can’t even sit at the counter and watch.

You’ve just preheated the oven and are now whisking your dry ingredients together for Mike’s favorite brownies. There’s a rack of Will’s oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter cooling off, alongside Mrs. Wheeler’s sugar cookies she loves. “You lost your baking privileges when you mixed up the salt and sugar last year. Those gingerbread cookies were awful.”

“They’re both white! How was I supposed to know?”

“Stop talking and leave,” you point towards the living room with your whisk and some powder flies out of the bowl in the process.

Dustin tries to argue, but then the doorbell rings and he immediately breaks out into a shit eating grin. “Perfect timing.”

“What–” You try to question what your brother is up to, but he’s already run to answer the door. Sighing, you slowly mix in your wet ingredients and mumble to yourself, “I hate him. I really do.”

“Who do we hate?” Steve slides into the kitchen, not a care in the world, and slides right into Jonathan’s peanut butter cups. “Shit!”

“Steve!” You quickly catch the desserts, barely able to hold onto the bowl of brownie batter in your hands. Once the crisis is averted, you turn to Steve and begin hitting him with your batter covered whisk, effectively ruining his sweater. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Dustin now slides into the kitchen as well, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve looks down at the batter he’s covered in and scraps some off with his finger before bringing it to his mouth. He hums, nods appreciatively, and smacks his lips. “Ya know, why haven’t I had this before?”

“The brownies are for Mike.” Dustin says, sneakily popping a peanut butter cup into his mouth.

“Wheeler should share, this batter is delicious.” Steve licks some more off of his sweater and you and Dustin cringe at him. When he sees this, he simply shrugs at you both. “What? My sweater is clean.”

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face and go back to the batter. “Again I ask: what are you doing here?”

“Like the kid said, he invited me.” Steve points to Dustin, who sends you a thumbs up. “Didn’t know I’d be walking into a war zone, though.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you say, as if this is all the explanation he needs. When Steve only tilts his head at you in confusion, you huff and put down your bowl so you can quickly explain. “I bake everyone their favorite desserts for Christmas, and normally it’s fine. However, now I have Max, Nancy, Hopper, and El to add to my baking list and I…”

You stumble, now suddenly feeling the effects of baking all day catching up to you. You’re slightly woozy, you can’t remember if you had lunch today. “I’m doing great, honestly.”

“She’s going insane.” Dustin loudly whispers to Steve, his fingers circling around his head in a “crazy” motion.

Steve ignores the boy and stands next to you, placing a hand to the small of your back and leans over your shoulder, allowing you to lean back against him. It’s a simple gesture, and you melt immediately against him. “Give me a bowl and recipe, angel. I’ll help you bake.”

You reluctantly move away from Steve and quickly find a piece of paper and a pen to scribble the recipe for Nancy’s chocolate chip cookies. It’s an easy enough recipe, you trust that Steve can handle the basics.

As you hand the recipe to him, Dustin’s jaw drops. “What, no fair! Why can’t I help bake?”

“Salt and sugar, Dustin. Salt and sugar.”

Steve gathers the ingredients he needs. “Do you have a spare apron?”

“I mean, sure,” you show him where one hangs next to the doorway. “But you’re already covered in brownie batter, so I’m not sure why you need one now.”

“Wanna match with you,” Steve quickly ties the strings around his waist, the apron is far too small on him and it makes you giggle.

Dustin, now very much third wheeling, throws his hands up in the air and marches out of the room. “You two are disgusting, ya know that?”

“Love you too!” You call after the boy, who responds by marching even louder towards his room.

With your brother gone and with Steve’s help, you manage to get through the rest of your baking list in no time. While you hadn’t expected Steve to necessarily fail in the kitchen, you were also pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he seemed to be while helping you bake.

“How’d you get so good at measuring sugar?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his measuring cup, too focused on the task at hand as he carefully counts out how many cups he will need. “My mom.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, not having expected the answer. He never really brought his parents up, something that you’ve noticed but never touched on with him. You figured it was like your father, never wanting to talk about someone who has hurt you.

Hesitantly, you try to learn more. “Does she bake with you a lot?”

“She used to,” Steve counts his third cup and mixes it into the bowl, now working on Max’s coconut bites. “Back when I was little, we used to bake her banana bread together all the time.”

His voice is light, the conversation isn’t a painful one for Steve, so you decide it’s safe to press further. “Well, if you can remember the recipe, I’m sure we can bake it today.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, dummy.” The way he’s looking at you with such genuine enthusiasm makes your heart hurt; he’s surprised you’ve offered him kindness. “I was going to bake you those caramel banana cookies, so I have some ripe bananas anyways–”

You’re cut off by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, and he smells of sugar and cinnamon; it’s an addicting scent. “Thank you,” he breathes out, touched that you would do such a thing for him, and you tighten around him, happy that you’re able to give him this.

Later that night, when you walk Steve to his car after a long day of baking, he opens his passenger side door and grabs something from the seat. You watch him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You think I came all the way here on Christmas Eve without a gift for you?” Steve teases, a smirk on his face as he hides something behind his arms.

You gasp, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Dustin called, I answered, and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to surprise you,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “Plus, I got homemade banana bread out of it, so shush and close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only because I have your gift waiting in my room. The second we’re done here, I’m running inside and bragging about my impeccable gift giving abilities.”

Steve chuckles fondly, knowing that whatever you will give him will ultimately be his favorite gift he’s ever received. “Okay, moron. Close your eyes.”

With a giggle, you close your eyes and eagerly await whatever you’re about to be given. Steve’s gift from last year, a signed poster of the original Spider-Man comic, now hangs on your bedroom wall. You love it dearly, every time you look at it, you smile.

Something soft is placed within your hands. Its texture is woolen, the material is heavy yet lightweight, and while you can’t figure out exactly what it is, you can’t help but notice how expensive it feels. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You do, and when you see what Steve has given you, you gasp. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

Within your hands is a cardigan. The wool it has been knitted with is a lovely cream color, and you bring the clothing closer to admire all the wonderful details within the knit pattern. With small pieces of wool, hints of baby blues and pinks weave in and out of the cream. Along the front are buttons made from a beautiful dark wood, polished to perfection.

Steve lets out a nervous chuckle and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well. Figured I owed you a new cardigan after basically tearing apart your old one.”

“I was bleeding out, Steve.” Your finger traces over a button, its wood is cool to the touch and so smooth that you can hardly believe it’s real. “If you hadn’t torn my favorite cardigan to stop the bleeding, I wouldn’t be alive today to call you an idiot for even considering I would be mad about that–”

As you admire one of the sleeves, your finger catches on something. Turning the clothing around, you see, within the inside of the sleeve, a messily sewn on patch. The stitches are crooked and horribly uneven, clearly done by someone unskinned with a needle. “What’s this?”

Steve clears his throat, uncharacteristically flustered. “Just… Something I added.”

The patch is small, no bigger than an inch or so, with messy handwriting on it that has become familiar to you through long hours at Bookstrordinary helping you write down all the orders needed for shipments.

S.H.

Steve must mistake your stunned silence for disgust, because he quickly tries to take the cardigan away from you in embarrassment. “Fuck, you–you think it’s weird and you hate it and I went too far–”

He had wanted to give you a piece of himself somehow.

His panicked rambling is cut off by your entire body being thrown against his. Suddenly he has an armful of you, flushed against him in the December chill, and Steve’s heartbeat threatens to beat out of his chest. He has you right where he wants you, in his arms with your perfume swirling around his brain as he buries his face into your hair.

Everything calms within him, all the panic and insecurity he had just been feeling is now gone.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re now crying. No one has ever made something for you, and the hand sewn patch that now resides on your beautiful cardigan makes everything within you burn.

Steve’s fingers slowly make their way to your hair and he risks pressing a kiss atop of your head. He relishes in the way his lips feel against your hair, how it feels like he’s done this all his life. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” You pull your head from his chest and catch his eye. They shine when they look at you, and you can’t help but think about how similar they look compared to last summer. Last July Steve had looked at you like he’d fall to his knees for you and kiss every crevice of your skin if you’d asked him to, and you had run away, terrified of the feelings you weren’t ready to face.

Now, as Steve stares down at you still as if you’re holding the sun within your hands, all you can think is home.

Home.

What a fascinating concept, being able to find a home within someone’s arms.

And it’s a fall like no other.

“I’m glad you love it,” Steve is breathless, both relieved and in awe that he’s done something to render you this speechless, that he has this effect on you.

Neither of you know how long you stand there wrapped in each other, but eventually you force yourself to detangle from the boy. When Steve groans at the loss of your touch, you gently shove him away with a smile. “I still owe you a gift, dummy.”

He thinks about this for a moment, hums to himself and taps his finger against his chin. You giggle, which is all he wanted to make you do, and finally he seems to come to a decision. “Fine, I will allow this because I wanna know what you got me.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick Steve’s nose and begin walking towards your house. “I’ll be back in a second!”

Steve watches as you run back inside, the cardigan he has gifted you is clutched tightly to your chest, and he knows he’s falling as well. He can feel it, the slight tug within his chest that expands into a warmth that steadily beats alongside his heart.

As you promised, you’re back with a small box wrapped in a simple blue paper within no time. Only this time, you’re now wearing the cardigan and Steve’s heart skips a beat when he sees you.

You’re practically skipping as you return to his side, stupidly excited for Steve to see what you’ve gotten for him; you all but shove the gift into his hands. “Open it!”

He can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, though his heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled yet. “So bossy.”

You ignore Steve’s teasing and instead watch the look on his face as he unwraps the box and opens its lid. Within the box, tucked delicately between sheets of tissue paper, is a framed photo of Steve and Dustin.

A mix of emotions cross Steve’s face, from shock to curiosity to pure adoration. His lips part slightly, a slight gasp escapes him. “Y/N…”

You’re beaming, though you shrug as if it’s just another Monday for you. The photo is your favorite, taken the other day while they worked on a robot set that Steve had brought over. “Jonathan left his camera at my place a few weeks ago, and you and Dustin looked incredibly sweet working together, so… I snuck a picture while you two were busy bickering over drill bit sizes.”

In the picture, Dustin’s hands are gesturing wildly at Steve, his eyes manic, yet there’s a genuine smile on both of their faces despite the clear indications that they’re arguing. Tools are scattered around them and a poor, misshapen robot lays discarded on the table in front of them, long forgotten in the midst of their argument.

It’s the perfect photo, honestly.

Steve lets out a wet chuckle, his eyes are shining with fondness. “That kid is such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but you can’t help but love him anyway.” You nudge him, drawing his attention back to you. “It’s not often I see Dustin befriend someone so quickly, ya know.”

Steve ducks his head down, flushed from what you’re implying. “Yeah, well. He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips against his cheek, before whispering into his ear, “and so are you.”

You feel Steve shiver, and he grips at your waist so that you can’t back away again. He pauses for a moment, allows your words to sink in and your kiss to seep throughout his body. There’s more he wants to say, his lips practically beg to be drawn to yours, but he takes a deep breath and says what he knows he can give you. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Your lips graze Steve’s ear and he shivers again. This, he knows, is where he was always meant to be.

–

Spring comes, and Steve doesn’t get into any of the colleges he applied for.

It’s a hard blow, and the months you’ve spent trying to rebuild his confidence comes crashing down within seconds.

Steve draws into himself, you don’t see him at school for a few days and he doesn’t stop by your work. He’s embarrassed, hiding from his shame of not being good enough to even get into Tech. He’s everything his father told him he’d be. A failure, an embarrassment to the Harrington name.

You give Steve a few days to himself, trusting that he’ll come back when he’s ready; you know how deeply he carries the weight of his father’s expectations. However, when almost a week goes by without any word from the teen, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Which leads you to now: knocking on Steve’s door with platters of fresh baked goods, Mike and the others holding their own assortment of snacks and movies for tonight.

It took a lot of bargaining and multiple batches of brownies, but in the end you convinced Dustin and the others to surprise Steve with a movie night at his house. You knew his parents would be out of town this week, they’re hardly ever home anyways.

After a few swift knocks, you don’t have to wait long before Steve opens the door. He looks tired, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing the ratty sweatpants that you absolutely hate on him. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and when he sees who is behind his door, he frowns. “Why are you all holding snacks?”

“Well, hello to you too, buddy.” Dustin is the first to enter, shoving past Steve without a care in the world. He looks around and whistles, impressed with the house. “Y/N said you were rich, but damn.”

“Is that a pool?” Lucas makes his way in as well, Max loosely holding his hand as she follows.

El looks up at you. “What is a pool?”

“Mike,” you call for the boy to get his attention. When he turns to you, brownie shoved in his mouth, you point towards El. “Can you explain to her what a pool is while I talk to Steve?”

Mike salutes you and grabs El’s hand, yanking her inside so that you’re left alone with the teen. As soon as they’re gone, Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is this, Y/N?”

“Mandatory movie night!” You exclaim, hoping that your fake enthusiasm will be enough to rub off on him as well. You really, really hope that this plan works.

Steve sighs again, his heart isn’t in it to play along. “Y/N…”

“You’ve missed an entire week of school and Bookstrordinary misses its most loyal customer.” You’re basically pleading now, scared that Steve will turn you and everyone else away. “I just… I miss you and I know you enjoy the kids, even if you try to deny it, and I want you to just spend this one night with us. No worrying about the future, no family drama, just me, you, and the kids as we watch horrible scary movies and eat an unhealthy amount of sugar, okay?”

“But–”

“No, you’re not allowed to argue with me.” Steve stares at you, baffled, but you simply barge past him and enter the home as well. “We’re going to have fun tonight, damn it.”

He watches as you walk inside and start ordering the kids around. Within no time, you’ve arranged a neat row of cookies and brownies and chips and dinosaur nuggets on his dining room table while the kids start making a fort in the living room.

Steve sighs, knowing he’s long lost this battle with you, and joins you to help with grabbing more blankets and pillows for the fort.

One part of the deal for a movie night at Steve’s was allowing all the kids to pick their own movie to watch. You’d been very hesitant to say yes to this, but ultimately Mike’s nagging won in the end. His movie choice goes first, and within the first fifteen minutes of it, a fort has been made and the kids quickly settle within it, a mess of sheets and pillows and blankets.

You’re on the couch, lazily stretched out, knowing that there’s no room for you in the fort with the others. You don’t mind, you honestly prefer having the couch to yourself, and you only further come to enjoy this when Steve makes his way into the living room and looks around.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks, slightly offended that he doesn’t get to share the fort.

“Here,” you pat the couch, though you don’t bother to make any room for him. Your entire body rests on the couch, there isn’t enough space for him to sit comfortably on the edge.

Steve bites his lip. He wants, more than anything, to lay on top of you and melt into your body, but he just isn’t sure what boundaries have been placed between the two of you. When you notice his misplaced hesitation, you simply sigh and tug at his legs, causing him to fall on top of you. “Shit–”

He collapses onto you and your body braces for his impact, the weight of him foreign yet welcome. He’s wearing the cologne you love and you reach for his shirt to tug him closer so that he’s now properly laying on you. You sigh happily, wrapping your arms around Steve. “See, was that so hard?”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.” Steve grumbles, but he situates himself so that he’s laying more comfortably on you and scoops you into his own arms as well. He rests his head against your chest and your fingers find their way into his hair, as they always seem to do.

Steve closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy your touch, for once not caring that the kids are just below the two of you in their fort. Normally he’s more reserved around you when they’re near, especially Dustin.

That kid never lets Steve catch a break when it comes to you.

But he’s exhausted and has spent the last week either crying or pretending that he’s someone he isn’t, so Steve indulges in your warmth and relishes in the way your fingers seem to unconsciously draw small circles on his back; he’s so fucking grateful that you exist.

You’re always there to catch him, to remind him of who he can be despite his continuous flaws.

The surprise movie night ends up being everything Steve needs. He laughs at Mike’s horrible jokes, shows El how to use the VHR, he argues with Max about whether peanut butter belongs with chocolate, Dustin throws popcorn at you when you kiss Steve’s cheek, and Lucas even asks him about basketball and if he has any advice for him once he gets to high school.

It’s the most fun Steve has had in a while, and he realizes why you spend so much time with these kids. They’re everything, really. Smart and fucking hilarious and easy to be around. They’re honest with him, they tell him he’s an idiot for not getting into college while in the same breath debating with him about if college is even worth it.

Plus, you litter Steve’s face with more kisses than usual tonight, which only brightens his mood further. You’ve been more affectionate with him lately, holding his hand more often and pressing your lips wherever you can. It’s as if he’s found some key, unlocking all the love you’ve stored within you.

Steve isn’t an idiot, he knows there’s more to it, so do you. However, rather than acknowledge it, you both choose to simply bask in it. It’s not time yet, bringing this into the light. It’s delicate, still forming into something that Steve is sure will be incredible.

For now, he allows his lips to skim across your face while the kids aren’t looking. They’ve been dying to do this ever since he’s known you, and the giggle you let out is more than enough for him.

–

Spring turns to summer and before Steve knows it, he’s graduating.

He rolls over in bed and stares at the ceiling. The Harrington household is quiet. His parents have gone on yet another business trip, his father had scoffed when Steve had asked if they’d be back in time for his ceremony.

“Why should we attend if you’re not going to do anything with that diploma?”

“Right,” Steve had scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed that he had even thought to ask his father to come. “I’m sorry.”

His mother, who had been quiet as they spoke, only stepped forward once her husband had left the room. She brought a hand to his face and tentatively stroked his cheek with her finger. “I’m proud of you, my beautiful boy.”

Steve had smiled at her, knowing that she meant well and yet heartbroken that she couldn’t voice this in front of his father. She smiled sadly at him, as if she sensed what he had been thinking, before following after her husband. As she always does.

The doorbell rings, effectively breaking Steve out of his momentary self pity. He looks at his alarm clock and frowns. It’s early in the morning, he doesn’t know who could be at the door at such an hour.

Sighing, he gets out of bed and makes his way downstairs angry at the world. He’s tired of growing up, his parents suck, he’s almost definitely skipping his graduation ceremony, and now he has to get out of bed to go answer the door.

He opens the door and when he sees that it’s you, his mood drastically improves. You’re dressed in a pretty lavender sundress, a departure from your usual t-shirts and shorts that Steve has come to associate as your summer uniform. By the time he manages to take his eyes off of you, he realizes too late that you’re holding flowers and shoving your way into his home.

“Ready to graduate?” You ask, carefully setting the flowers down on his kitchen table. “You can’t skip it if I’m here, ya know.”

Steve groans. “How did you even know I was going to skip?”

“Because you’re predictable and I enjoy making you do what’s best for you.” You’ve grabbed his hand and are dragging him towards his room. “Now, go find something nice to wear while I put your flowers in a vase.”

“But–”

You don’t give Steve any time to argue as you’ve already left the room to go and take care of the flowers. He lets out another groan, he knows he can’t argue his way out of this one. You’ve dressed up for a graduation, bought Steve flowers, and now he has to put on some stupid outfit to make a smile cross your pretty little face.

He settles on a simple white button down shirt and a pair of nice dress pants, and you return to his room as he’s struggling with the buttons. When you see him, you laugh with affection and walk over to him. “Here, let me see.”

Steve lets you button his shirt, your breath is warm against his chest as your fingers quickly secure the buttons into the place. He admires the cute frown on your face as you concentrate, and he allows his hands to come up to yours and slots your fingers together. You’re taken aback by the sudden affection.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a familiar blush on your face from his touch. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this.

“Nonthin’.” Steve says, though he lets go of one of your hands and places it on the small of your back as he always does. He uses the hand to push you closer and the other hand remains intertwined with yours. He stares down at you, he’s close enough to count every eyelash that dots along your pretty eyes. “Just admiring you.”

“Is this some ploy to distract me from your graduation?” Though you try to tease him, you’re weak and let out a soft sigh when Steve pulls you even closer, feeling his body against yours. He’s allowed himself to become bolder with you, and as if to prove this, he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses your brow. You exhale with a shaky breath, your resolve dwindles. “Honey…”

Steve chuckles at your reaction, revels in it. He hopes to one day memorize all the ways he can make you sigh his name and shiver against him. For now, however, he pulls away and finishes getting dressed. “I know, I know. Graduation time.”

The perfectly aimed sandal that you throw at him is enough to solidify to Steve that he is, truly, happy.

–

Dustin is the first one Steve sees in the bleachers, then Mike, and then El, before he realizes that the entire party has managed to make it to his graduation ceremony.

“You invited them?” He turns to you, somehow surprised that you would do such a simple and lovely thing.

“Of course I did.” You kiss his cheek and quickly fix his hair as you adjust his graduation cap. You’ve been fretting over his appearance ever since you left his house, and he hates how giddy he feels whenever you dote on him. “Now, go find your seat and don’t trip on the stage!”

You’re gone in a flash, leaving Steve alone as you go and join the kids in the bleachers with all the other friends and family in attendance. The school’s gym is packed, everyone has someone there for them to see them walk across the stage, and though Steve’s actual family isn’t here, he has you and the kids in the stands cheering for him.

Steve decides, then, that you and the kids are his true family.

The ceremony is long and boring, and Steve spends the entire time sneaking glances at you.

You’re attentive, nodding along to all the boring speeches made by teachers and clapping for every student’s name that is called. He sees you breakup a fight between Mike and Max over something, he guesses it’s probably something dumb, and he laughs when you switch seats with Max in the end.

As he watches you, Steve feels what he felt the first day he ever spoke to you when you almost hit his car with your bike. When he’d gotten out of his car and found you laying in the ditch, he felt what he feels now: a slow, all encompassing wave of sunlight.

He felt it when he drove you home the following week and you’d told him he wasn’t a bad person, and he felt it again when you’d spared him kindness at Jonathan’s while fighting the Demogorgon. Then, in front of the hospital’s vending machine, the sunlight turned into a fireplace within his chest when you’d giggled and told him you were friends.

Since then, the fire has only burned deeper within Steve. It burned when he’d gifted you that poster, when he had spent every day at your job just to be near you. It had burned Steve when you’d left him that summer, the sting of it unbearable as it seared his skin. Then it had dimmed, abandoned, until you came back again and reignited it once more.

When you whispered confessions to Steve in the dark, he felt it then. When you sacrificed your life to save his, leaving a scar on your rib cage that Steve can feel whenever he hugs you, he felt it then as well. The fire was there when you leaned against him, accepted the help he has always tried to provide for you, when he gave you a piggyback ride back inside Jonathan’s and tucked you into bed.

It all comes back to Steve in flashes.

Your promise to him to wait, to stay even though he couldn’t give you what you deserved, what you needed. The gentleness of your promise and the framed photo of him and Dustin that now sits proudly on his bedside table. The surprise movie nights, how you call him “honey” and he calls you “angel”.

It’s always been there.

The warmth had started back before Steve even knew what warmth was, when he first saw you. He had been thirteen and you had been twelve.

Now, at almost seventeen and eighteen, you’re cheering for Steve’s name as it’s called upon the stage and he finally knows what this feeling is. Steve accepts his diploma and shakes hands with his principal and he swears he can hear your voice, screaming his name with pure joy, above everyone else’s; it’s as if his body is attuned to yours.

This, Steve knows, is love.

–

The school year ends and summer break begins.

There’s a new mall in Hawkins, one that’s big and flashy and opens just in time for summer vacation. Dustin spends entire days there with the party before he reluctantly leaves for Camp Know Where. You miss your brother dearly, but you know the camp is good for him.

When you find out that Jonathan and Nancy have become interns at the Hawkins Post, you scream and throw yourself into their arms, incredibly proud of them, yet you’re sad as well. You didn’t realize that you’d be spending your last summer before senior year apart from your best friend, though you know he’s always dreamed of showcasing his photography.

It’s bittersweet, but when Steve gets a job at the new mall, the free ice cream that you get makes up for it.

Plus, his uniform for Scoops Ahoy doesn’t hurt.

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” Steve threatens you, horribly self conscious with how short his shorts are. You made him promise to show you the uniform, but now he’s seriously regretting it as you bite your lip; he sees the laugh before it comes. “I mean it! No laughing, it’s already bad enough that I have to work–”

He’s cut off by your loud, smug laugh. It overtakes your entire body as you hunch over, gasping for breath as you wheeze out, “You look great!”

Steve hides behind the ice cream counter, absolutely mortified. Here he is, being laughed at by the girl he’s so fucking in love with, as he wears a stupid sailor hat and a god damn ascot.

In between your laughs, you see the despair on Steve’s face and you try to calm down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” you wipe tears from your eyes, still slightly giggling. “It’s just… You look so adorable in that uniform!”

Immediately Steve straightens his back and crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified. “One, never call a man adorable. That’s just offensive. Two, I will not get out from behind this counter until you stop giggling at me.”

“Who are we giggling at?” An unfamiliar girl now appears, wearing the exact same uniform that Steve is, and when she sees you standing in front of the teen, she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “Henderson with Harrington?”

She knows your name, and you quickly wrack your head to try and figure out why she looks so familiar. At the very least, you know she has to be a grade below you, though you can’t quite place her, which you feel bad about. She looks kind.

“Yes, Henderson with Harrington.” You extend your hand out for the girl to shake. “I’m Y/N, though I guess you already knew that.”

“Robin Buckley,” she accepts your handshake, giving you an interested smile. She already seems to like you, which you’re relieved by.

Steve watches this interaction with pure dread. He had met Robin a few days ago during his interview for the job, and she’s made his life a living hell of torment and teasing ever since. Now, with you two meeting, he knows that you’ll only add onto Robin’s incredibly quick wit. “Oh, please don’t become friends.”

“Too late.” You wink at Robin. “Wanna check out this insanely large mall together?”

Robin gasps. “It’d be my pleasure.” She hops over the counter, completely bypassing the door that lets you out, and loops her arm through yours. “Later, dingus!”

“Bye, Steve!”

He stands there, defeated, as you and Robin giggle together while you leave. It only took thirty seconds before you abandoned him like some traitor. Sighing, he picks up a rag and starts wiping down the tables in the ice cream shop.

From the corner of his eye he can see you and Robin running around the mall. You’re giggling as you chase after the girl, your hair is tied in a loose ponytail and one of the straps on your overalls has slid down your arm. You look happy, bright and alive, far from the girl Steve remembers from last winter.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

Then, as if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn. Your eyes connect, your cheeks are flushed from running and you’re breathless as you smile at him. Steve returns your smile, winks, and he can almost hear your giggle.

You finally look away, going back to chasing after Robin as the two of you retreat further into the mall, and as your figure fades in the distance, there’s only one thing on Steve’s mind.

I can’t wait to make her mine.

-

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[frashka]

I think one of my favourite motifs in farcille is their hand holding tbh because I'm so sure it was intentional, Ryoko Kui is just like that

So, as we know, Falin and Marcille are already very, VERY tactile with each other, but an important separate detail is their hands. They always hold hands when something important and even culminating for them happens. By taking Falin's hand as a child, Marcille takes on a completely new and an unknown life, allowing Falin to teach her something new, to show her something important. By accepting Falin's hand, she accepts new knowledge into her life, new possibilities and, importantly, lets someone to be close to her.

It's also important how Ryouko Kui focuses on their hands when Falin's handing Marcille raspberries, because it's another symbol of Marcille accepting new things and knowledge, thanks to Falin.

Curious and lively and expressive Marcille we, as an audience, know is like that because of Falin in her life. Because she took Falin's hand and let her show Marcille something new. We saw Marcille before that, a little arrogant in her knowledge, and so different from someone we know: serious, unemotional and not so happy. She's lonely. And we see her like that twice in the story: before Falin stepped into her life, and when Falin (in Marcille's head) left her behind. Three years should feel like nothing for a half-elf, right? But Marcille felt that time passing, even mistaken it for four years with how Falin's absence affected her.

Moving forward, it's really important just how much focus we get on Marcille's hands during the resurrection scene: her drawing blood from her palm, powering Ambrosia with it, carefully rearranging Falin's skeleton bone to bone. Despite being pretty fastidious and clean most of the time, here she stains her hands both with dragon's blood and her own.

And after all that, The Bath Scene happens.

Ryouko Kui dedicates THREE panels to their hand holding. Anime adapted this scene nicely, but in manga we feel that slow pacing that makes the whole gesture even more special. It's the act, the way Marcille freezes on the spot, it's how she almost reciprocates before realising what Falin is doing (and ends it more out of concern for Falin's health). This whole scene is about love, trust, care and devotion. Falin realised with what methods Marcille brought her back to life, she knows how dangerous and illegal and draining this magic was and still she trusted Marcille. She takes her hands here because she loves Marcille, because she's greatful to her and because she's worried about her wellbeing. Remember how Marcille cut her palm, how she moved Falin's bones with her bloodied hands? There's a lot about these devoted hands and how tenderly Falin holds them in her own.

Finally, we see the scene before Falin's sacrifice.

It's subtle here, but once again we see Falin holding Marcille's hands. This is the moment when we — when Marcille — understand that this devotion goes both ways. That Falin doesn’t care who gets hurt, who she hurts, she doesn’t care about her own life, as long as it means that her brother and Marcille are alive and safe. They are the most important people in Falin's whole world, and by taking Marcille's hand in hers she tries to soothe her and tell her that everything's alright. That she loves her, she loves Laois, and she wants to make sure that they're safe.

Their devotion goes both ways and runs horrifyingly deep with what they're ready to sacrifice for eachother.

[bloomzone]

GLOW UP DIARY#6 : ROMANTICIZING YOUR LIFE

"Another day ahead, don't wanna leave the bed you're looking at the mirror, see the tears covered in redI know that you've been cold this whole time but now I'm here to make it end"

-straykids (track : youtiful)

hi blossoms it's been so long since I posted. . . 🥹 miss you... Anyway I want to inform that I opened my study motivation/daily life account follow me there if u want ! ( @bloom-diary )

’-Finding Beauty in the Ordinary

© bloomzone

🍒: Boring days can feel endless and uninspiring, but they hold the potential for something special. By shifting your perspective, you can uncover the magic hidden in the mundane. Embrace the challenge of transforming those dull moments into opportunities for joy and creativity. Together, we'll explore simple ways to romanticize your daily life, turning the ordinary into the extraordinary. Remember, even the most uneventful days can become cherished memories with the right mindset. Let's make every day a little more magical!

#6.HOW TO ROMANTICIZING EVERYDAY LIFE

u can take your journey of romanticizing life to the next level embracing meaningful practices that can transform your everyday experiences into moments of joy and inspiration(remember that no matter how life get bad u can start again:) ). Start by creating rituals that bring calm and intention to your daily routine—whether it’s a peaceful morning routine or a relaxing evening wind-down. Allow yourself to explore new places and embark on mini-adventures to break free from routine and discover the beauty around you. Connect with your creativity through personal projects and let your imagination flourish. Remember, nourishing your well-being with mindful eating and enjoyable activities can elevate your mood and bring satisfaction. Embrace the changing seasons by celebrating them with special activities and fresh décor. Build a cozy personal sanctuary where you can reflect and recharge, and deepen your connections with others through meaningful gatherings. Practice gratitude regularly, and seek out beauty in both the big and small moments of life. Embrace these practices with an open heart, knowing that each effort you make will enrich your life and help you find joy in the ordinary.

FIND BEAUTY IN THE SMALL THINGS :

Romanticizing life involves finding beauty and joy in the everyday moments. Here’s a guide to help you embrace this mindset:

# 1.Slow Down and Be Present

- Mindfulness: Practice mindfulness by paying attention to the present moment without judgment.

- Savor Daily Routines:Turn mundane tasks into rituals. For example, enjoy making your morning coffee or tea,make ur bed in the morning..

# 2.Create a Cozy Atmosphere

- Decorate Your Space: Add personal touches to your living space, like lights, plants, or cozy blankets it will give u motivation to have a productive day

- Ambient Lighting: Use candles or soft lighting to create a warm and inviting environment

# 3.Indulge in Simple Pleasures

- Nature Walks: Take walks in nature, paying attention to the sights, sounds, and smells.

- Reading: Find a cozy spot to read books that inspire and transport you.

- Enjoy a Homemade Dessert: Bake cookies, brownies, or a cake and savor each bite try new recipes

# 4.Cultivate a Sense of Wonder

- Explore: Visit new places, even if they are in your local area.

- Learn: Pick up a new hobby or skill that excites you new languages....

# 5.Embrace Your Senses

- Music: Create playlists that uplift or calm you.

- Creating a Sensory Jar: Fill a jar with items like sea shells, dried flowers, or colored sand for a visual and tactile experience or just memories from break days..

# 6.Practice Gratitude

- Journaling: Keep a gratitude journal to note down things you’re thankful for each day.

- Appreciation: Take time to appreciate the little things, like a beautiful sunset or a delicious meal.

# 7. Dress for Joy

- Wear What You Love: Dress in clothes that make you feel good, even if you’re not going anywhere special. (Ikr wasting a good outfit in a boring day is suck 😔)

- Accessorize: Use accessories that add a touch of elegance or fun to your outfits.

#8. Nurture Relationships

- Quality Time: Spend meaningful time with friends and family.

- Thoughtful Gestures: Show appreciation through small, thoughtful gestures.

#9. Celebrate Yourself

- Self-Care: Regularly engage in self-care activities that rejuvenate you.

- Achievements: Celebrate your achievements, no matter how small.

# 10. Capture Memories

- Photography: Take photos of moments that make you happy.

- Scrapbooking: Create a scrapbook or digital album to look back on fond memories.

─ㅤ⊹ㅤ𓈒 May this guide inspire you to see the beauty in your daily life and cherish every moment.

© bloomzone