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yauchfilms · 14 hours

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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), a few uses of y/n (used sparingly), soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment.

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation.

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?”

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked.

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing.

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it.

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family.

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables.

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,” mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression.

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt.

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror.

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area.

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you. “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam.

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right.

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him.

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment.

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin.

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin.

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it.

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it.

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you.

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise.

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you.

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle.

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back.

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him.

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you.

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful.

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye.

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek.

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him.

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery.

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass.

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you.

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long.

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor.

“i thought you said we weren’t–”

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch.

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast.

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest.

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were.

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later.

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point.

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it.

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds.

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means.

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly.

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers.

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers.

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband.

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way.

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel.

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready.

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue.

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach.

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth.

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come.

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you.

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you.

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides.

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm.

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks.

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen.

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

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yauchfilms · 4 days

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Girl your Max AU is so fricken good !! please do more max ones

thank you! i'm about to graduate college in like 2 weeks (hehe) and then i'm gonna start rlly cooking. i have an ukko-pekka luukkonen (hockey player) one shot im cooking up for a friend but then im gonna get more into f1 so stay tuned!!!!!!!!

#asks

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yauchfilms · 6 days

Text

welcome!

hiii everyone, my name is kit, and i'm attempting to get more into writing this summer!

i'll properly sort everything once i get more out but for now:

my works:

so american ✢ max verstappen (smau, fluff)

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (one shot, smut)

who i write for:

formula one/motorsport

max verstappen

lando norris

daniel ricciardo

oscar piastri

alex albon

logan sargeant

pato o'ward

david malukas

hockey/nhl

mattias samuelsson

tyson jost

ukko-pekka luukkonen

jj peterka

jack quinn

quinn hughes

seth jarvis

+ more if i can think of any! if you aren't sure though, just ask!

#about me #masterlist #nhl x reader #formula 1 x reader

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yauchfilms · 7 days

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dont tag ur shit x reader if it ain’t acc a fic it’s annoying ahhh

aweee baby's first hate mail!!!

anyways. it quite literally is x reader. and it is quite literally a fic. it's just a social media au. which is a fic. like yes i used a faceclaim but god damn 😭😭

#asks

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yauchfilms · 7 days

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so my last post has gotten some traction.....would anyone want anything else from me? any requests? my inbox is open! who i write for is in the tags!

#f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #max verstappen #lando norris #daniel ricciardo #logan sargeant #alex albon #oscar piastri #charles leclerc #pato o'ward #david malukas

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yauchfilms · 8 days

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so american ✢ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!reader

warnings: none; just some silly shit, some swearing, google translate dutch, max's home race is belgium and not the netherlands for timeline related reasons

summary: y/n is teasing way too many things at once…..can the fans keep up?

author's note: this is NOT an original concept i am aware of this. but this hasn’t left my brain in days. i’ve got a very specific vision so let me cook. i know i haven't posted on here in over a year but i've returned an f1 fan. enjoy!

yourname added to their story!

liked by delwatergap, maxverstappen1, and 3,491,842 others

yourname: i think i'm in love with montreal. sorry i’ve been so off the grid but i am Loving Life so hard. so much inspo in my life rn. will talk soon i promise. love u all bunches 🫶🏼🌷

ynsbestfriend: hey queen you have done it again!

-> yourname: ugh i love you so bad

user1: UM BAE WHOS THAT IN THE LAST SLIDE?

-> yourname: beats me!

-> user1: i do not trust you.

lilymhe: hiiiii pretty girl

-> yourname: stop im blushinggggg

user2: i fear she’s in her lover girl era

-> user3: girl help im so fucking scared right now what’s happening

user4: so does any of this have to do with your story from yesterday??????

*liked by yourname.*

maxverstappen1 added to their story!

yourname added to their story!

liked by honeymoon, danielricciardo, and 3,572,679 others

yourname: life's been a beach lately. clearly i've been loathing my time in spain ://///

user5: IS THAT MAX

-> user6: no bc it HAS to be

heidiberger_: Loved spending the week with you! 🤍

-> yourname: same!!!!!! let's do it again sometime 🥰

-> user6: NOT DANNY RIC'S GF COMMENTING?????? AND LILY MUNI HE ON HER LAST POST???????

user6: no bc even if her and max were dating and she's been traveling with him why have we not seen her in the paddock

-> user7: to throw us off our rhythm????

-> user8: what if they debut at his home race in spa ijbol

liked by landonorris, taylorswift, and 4,683,892 others.

tagged: maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and ynsbestfriend

yourname: hahaha felt like dropping 2 things at once on u guys LOLLLLLLLL. thank u to redbullracing, spagrandprix, and the city of spa for letting me and my friends crash the race the other week to film the “so american” music video, and to maxie for winning in ur home country. it was so fucking special to be there supporting u. i love u baby!

ps. another thank u to max for thinking i'm the funniest person in the world and making fun of my americanness for as long as i've known him (which is quite a while).

enjoy this tune guys. it's urs forever and i hope u love it as much as i love the person it's about 🫶🏼 🇧🇪 🇳🇱 TU DU DU DU!!!!!

user9: OH NMY GOD I FUCKING KNEW I SAW U IN THE GARAGE

ynsbestfriend: thanks for letting me third wheel mommy

-> yourname: no one else i'd rather drag along!!!

danielricciardo: Welcome to the family! Song's a banger although I can't believe it's actually about Max of all people 🤢 GROSS!!

-> yourname: jealousy is a disease danny.

user10: i actually cannot fathom this this is so me core

alexandramalsaintmleux: I am so glad to know you! Your happiness is everything 🩷

liked by sabrinacarpenter, carlossainz55, and 4,783,522 others.

tagged: yourname and ynsfriend

maxverstappen1: Spent a week away in New England with my talented, gorgeous girl. Loved getting away and experiencing America through her eyes! Consider me an honorary American now! Also, stream “So American” wherever you choose. It's about me 😉

yourname: does this mean i can stop hiding in the garage now???

landonorris: Happy for you mate! Love the song as well yourname 🤍

-> yourname: awe thank u lando 🥺 i got more to show u when i see u next!!!!!!

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user11: MAX IS IN HIS LOVER BOY ERA

danielricciardo: How many more times can you say American?

liked by charles_leclerc, chappellroan, and 3,694,849 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourname: nothing like celebrating the best 2 weeks of my life than showing my boy around ye olde stomping grounds #soamerican

liamlawson30: This is so American of him

-> yourname: like he fits in so well!

lydianight: u'll have him in the american flag board shorts in no time

-> yourname: baby steps :///

user11: she really is in her lover girl era 🥺

clairo: did you take him to the chipotle that is also a historic landmark downtown??

-> yourname: dude of COURSE i did. he said it was "interesting"

yourname added to their story!

#formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #f1 smau #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #mv1 x reader #f1 texts #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au

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yauchfilms · 1 year

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tyson jost cellies never get old, do they?

(3.15.23)

#tyson jost #buffalo sabres #nhl #🐰#pretty boy alert

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yauchfilms · 1 year

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kissing best friend!steve🫠🫠

pining, obsessed steve? you got it <3

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

"Do you ever think about the time we first met?"

Steve peers over his drink, his eyes skeptical and focused in on you from across the table, anxiously awaiting your answer.

"You’re my best friend," you shrug, eyes staring down into your mug at the remnants of your milkshake. “Of course I remember the time we first met.”

That wasn’t necessarily his question, but he’ll take what he can get.

He swallows harsh. “How’d it go?”

You eye him suspiciously, quickly noting the nervous thrum of his fingers on the table between you.

He’s been quiet all night. And Steve’s never quiet when he’s with you. Not during your weekly Friday dinners at the diner.

Steve’s always been a talker, ranting and rambling about work and his parents and the possibility of school. You were the only person he ever really opened up to about these things; the only person he ever felt comfortable enough to tell.

So, he knew you would notice something was off right away. He kept turning the conversation to you, listening with a far off stare. He didn’t chat up the waitress like he usually did, or bicker with you about the radio on the drive over.

But he can’t help it. His brain was going a million miles a minute and his palms were starting to sweat and he’s really never felt so nervous in his entire life.

Tonight is the night. Tonight’s the night Steve comes clean about his feelings for you – all those sickly, sweet feelings he’s been wanting to tell you ever since he met you.

He’s not good with his words like you are.

Secretly, he’s been silently hoping you would just figure out his feelings by yourself already, so he wouldn’t have to muster up the courage to tell you himself.

It’s genuinely concerning you haven’t noticed already; he shows you his infatuation nearly every time you two are together. He’ll kneel down to tie your shoe for you when it comes undone. And he constantly calls you “just to hear your voice.” And he’ll rub your arms in the freezer section of the grocery store so you don’t get cold because you refuse to just take his jacket. And he still wears that silly friendship bracelet you made him in the tenth grade because he’s too afraid to lose it if he takes it off. And he always, without a doubt, gives you half of his food at the diner, even if he hasn’t eaten all day.

The poor boy’s practically obsessed with you, but you never seem to notice – always off in your own little world, leaving Steve to trail behind you like a lovesick, little puppy.

But he doing the whole puppy dog act tonight. He wasn’t doing anything tonight. He was a wet blanket dripping all over the booth tonight. And he was acting nervous.

And you still couldn’t figure out why.

So, by the time you both finished dinner and your waitress brought the check, you were just a touch annoyed.

“‘How’d it go?’” you repeated, truthfully understanding the question, but just wanting to give Steve a hard time.

“Sure, you know. The first time we met… how’d it go?” he asks again, unsure how to make himself any clearer.

Under the table, his foot had started to mimic the nervous tapping of his fingers. Your eyes snapped to his hand, then the bottom lip between his teeth (nervous habit), then down to your purse next to you in the booth.

“Well,” your brows furrow at the check near the end of the table as you blindly start feeling around your purse for some bills, “I seem to recall it was at the mall? You were in that adorable getup with the hat and the socks… and Robin was there–” You turn your full attention down to your purse, looking at it, offended.

Steve’s eyes narrow on you from across the booth.

“Ah!” You finally pull a crumbled up twenty from the bottomless pit that is your purse.

He really needs to remind you to clean that thing out again.

“Where was I?” you ask innocently over at him, “Oh, right. Robin… Robin, Robin. Oh! She told me you were gonna hit on me and that I should shoot you down no matter what.” You finish with a triumphant smile, the memory drifting back into your mind.

He’s always liked when you smile like that. Like he’s the butt of the joke.

“Right right,” he nods, eyes dropping back to the empty glass in front of him.

You seem to be waiting for him to just come out with it, to just say whatever it is that’s been eating him all night.

But he can’t. Something about the moment feels off.

He’s afraid to peek up and catch your icy glare drilling into him, until he hears you let out another huff as you start shimmying out of the diner booth without him.

“Wh–?” You were already halfway towards the door. His hand swipes up the twenty-dollar bill you left as he digs into his back pocket for his own wallet. He tugs out a twenty of his own and replaces it on the table. He tosses out a five as well – should be enough for a tip – before he spots the forgotten purse on your seat and swipes that up, too, sticking your money back in the rightful pocket of your bag before jogging after you.

He's caught up to you just as you've reached the diner door, and you quickly drop it in his face, opting instead to head towards his car in a dramatic huff.

Eyes rolling, Steve swings the glass door back open, his foot making it about half-way through the exit before the hostess calls out to him.

"You finally gonna bite the bullet and tell her tonight, Stevie boy?" she chides him.

"Har, har, Janet. Very funny," he grumbles, tucking your purse under his arm to preserve some of his dignity.

"See you next week, Harrington," she chuckles, looking back down at the desk in front of her.

God. Is he that obvious?

Shaking the fear from his mind, he bursts back out into the warm, summer air, trailing a step or two after you.

"I didn’t hit on you, by the way," he insists, unlocking the car and jogging over to open the passenger side for you.

You slide in, your belly laugh cut off as he closes the door on you.

Once again, he's found himself to be the butt of the joke. He still doesn't mind all that much.

A smile starts to creep onto his lips upon hearing your laughter, but the grin quickly fades as he remembers the severity of his situation. Steeling his nerves, Steve strides around the hood to the driver's seat.

You're just gonna… go in there and just...Tell her. Just say what you feel, Harrington, c'mon. Best case scenario, she feels the same. Worst case scenario, she laughs in your face.

He grips the door handle, but can't seem to muster up the courage to get in just yet. He catches sight of you through the window, riffling through his glovebox, no doubt looking for the mixtape he made for you all those months ago. You spot the one with his writing on the side – crisp, clean – like he took far too much care in writing it. It's just your name on the side, nothing fancy, but he wanted to make it clear this tape was for you in particular. No one else.

Christ, you're becoming a problem.

He grits his teeth and hops inside as you load up the tape, still chuckling to yourself from earlier. Steve bites back another smile.

"Why's that funny? I didn't hit on you when you came in, I was perfectly civil–"

"Steve, you asked me what color lipstick I was wearing and if I had any plans that night," you shoot him a smirk as you reach for your seatbelt.

A blush warms his cheeks at the memory; he thought you would have forgotten.

He clears his throat and starts the ignition, turning in his seat and throwing his arm around your headrest to reverse, actively avoiding your gaze.

"I– uh, don't remember that."

"You're such a terrible liar, Steve," you smile through the words, whistfully, like he has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

A chuckle bubbles up in his chest and he can't help but peek over at your smile. Now fussing with the buttons of the stereo, you listen for the song you want to hear.

You look pretty just sitting in his passenger seat, the sun gently setting through the whisps of your hair.

His eyes snap back to his rear window.

The car jolts to life as it swings out of the parking lot. Steve knows the way to your house by heart, but he always insists on taking the longer route back on Fridays.

"I'm actually an amazing liar, thank you very much," he mutters casually, adjusting his rearview mirror and merging onto the road.

"No, Steve, you're not," you finally find the right song and turn up the volume a touch - loud enough to hear the lyrics, but soft enough for you two to hold a conversation.

Steve likes this song. He likes all the songs on this tape because they remind him of you – Friday night drives back to your place, close proximity in his car, those butterflies in his stomach when your gaze turns on him.

"Y/N, I am so good at poker, your brain couldn’t even handle it–"

"Being good at poker doesn't necessarily mean you're good at lying, Steve. Just means you're good at reading people."

"Well that, too," he gives you a cocky look before snapping back to the road. "I'm a man of many talents."

"Pshhh," you smack his arm, as if he's said something particularly funny.

"Ow– Wha–? What is so fucking funny?" He shoots you a look across the car, half shocked, half annoyed.

"Nothing," you're giggling through your words once again, "Nothing, Steve."

"What, you don't think I have any talents?" He's accusatory now, leaning towards you for dramatic effect, his eyes still trained on the road.

"No! No, I didn't say that." A wave of seriousness washes over you, but it's quickly replaced with a sincere lightness, a gentle smile as you look at him. "I think you're plenty talented, Steve."

He scoffs, "Don't take that tone with me."

"What tone?" your voice bounces around the car, "I'm not taking any tone."

"That teasing tone, that 'Oh, yeah. Sure, Steve, whatever you say' tone."

You giggle at his poor impression of you, and he can't help the dopey smile that spreads across his face. He can never stay annoyed with you for too long.

You’ve turned your attention back to his glovebox now. He can tell you're reorganizing the tapes stowed there in a very particular order. He strains his eyes a bit to catch the titles. They’re ordered from left to right – his favorites to his least favorites. They’re definitely easier for him to reach from the driver's seat now.

His chest aches at your actions, how you subconsciously think of him, and a warm smile envelops his face. He thinks about how he'd rearrange every tape you've ever owned if it meant making your life a fraction easier.

Your hands freeze and you spin to face him. A silly smile slips onto your own lips and Steve’s breath hitches.

"What’re you smiling about?" you question coyly.

His grip on the wheel tightens and his eyes snap back to the road. He needs to contain himself.

"You always patronize me." He's grasping at straws, but he knows it'll distract you from the nervous hand running through his hair and the nibbling of his bottom lip.

“Patronize y–? Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I wasn't patronizing you just now. I was being sincere." You go back to sifting through his glovebox, muttering to yourself, "Surprised you can even use that word in a sentence…”

His eyes drift back down to your deft, pretty fingers, that bright, pristine nail polish, and he has to steel himself once again. There could be dents on the wheel by the time he pulls in your driveway.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he reaches up to anxiously adjust his rearview mirror. He knows he looks nervous as hell; he just hopes you're too wrapped up in your own little world to notice.

You don't seem to, now picking at your pretty manicure and tapping your foot to the music gliding through the speakers.

Steve passes your street sign and he can't stop the impending dread that washes over him at the idea of you no longer sitting in his car. He always hates the drive back to his place after he drops you off - your warmth still mingling in the air, but he can't quite get a hold of it. He likes that your perfume lingers when you leave, and the smell of your shampoo, but he just hates how it fades so quickly, until he gets to smell it again next Friday.

Pulling into your driveway, his stomach drops. It really is now or never.

He switches off the ignition, leaving you two in the warm darkness of the summer night, surrounded by that hazy light right after sunset. Only bits and pieces of your silhouette are visible from the dashboard light, but you’re still as stunning as always.

A heated look passes between you two before you're gathering up your things to leave, mindful to take your tape out of the stereo, replacing it with his favorite one for his ride home.

Your hand reaches for the handle as you start your goodbye.

"Kay, well, I'll see you next week, okay–"

But he stops you with a hand around your wrist. A silent plead for you to stay.

His heart is in his throat. Your pulse is so strong beneath his fingers. He swears he hears your breath catch.

“Y/N," his voice was low, unsure, like he was still thinking of what exactly to say.

"Yeah?" you give him a worried expression, tuned into his serious tone.

"I…"

But the words were caught in his throat, lips unable to form the words.

"I… I forgot." He deflates just a fraction and rubs your wrist once with his thumb before dropping it.

"Geez, Steve. Don't scare me like that. Thought you were gonna say you hate me or something like that." You chuckle as you swing the passenger door open.

Hate you? Hate you?

He’s not even thinking when he pushes open the driver’s side door and jogs after you to your porch.

You stop fumbling with your front door keys and turn to confront him.

“Forgot something, Harrington–?”

But he cuts off your teasing with his lips pressed to yours.

His hands run up to your neck, his thumbs nestled under your jaw and the pads of his fingers stroking at the soft spot below your ear. Your lips are so soft, so smooth, he can’t stop the little sigh from leaving his throat. Finally, he feels you relax into him, coming up to wrap your hands around his wrists gently, melting into his touch.

Eyes squeezing shut, he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, the smell of your shampoo and the feeling of his nose brushing your soft cheek, and the way your lips move against his, trying to drag the kiss out for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, he still needs that stupid thing called oxygen and he’s forced to pull back. His hands stay at your neck, the thumbs rubbing across your jawline, as his blown pupils sweep over your face.

“I’m really, really into you, by the way,” his words come out so breathless as he looks between your swollen lips and your wide eyes.

A shaky breath escapes through your lips. “Good thing I’m into you, too, pretty boy.”

He can’t even get worked up about the nickname before he’s leaning in again, this kiss much slower, much more meaningful. His heart starts to ache from the feel of your fingers rubbing along his knuckles, and he can’t stop from smiling against your lips. Eventually, he has to stop from how sickeningly sweet his chest feels, pulling back to rub the tip of his nose up the bridge of yours with his eyes squeezed shut, his cheeks and his lungs slowly starting to ache in the best way.

He hears a content hum come from the back of your throat, and he can’t help but mimic the same sticky, sentimental sound himself.

His eyes pop back open to get a good look at you. Your cheeks are flushed and your pupils are blown; you can’t seem to contain your own smile.

“Uh… sorry, if that was a little… unexpected,” he chuckles at your smarmy grin, his hands leaving your face as he takes a bashful step back and off your porch. “I’ll, uh… see you next Friday!”

Spinning confidently on his heel, hands tucking into his pockets, he makes his way back down your walkway and to his car, leaving you there a bit speechless. He smiles to himself at your stunned silence as he reaches for the door handle. Pausing for a moment, he spins back round, riding his adrenaline high.

“I’ll call you!” he calls out to you before swinging the door open and hopping in.

You’re just left there, standing on your porch, watching him drive off, one honk of the horn and then he’s down your street.

A hand comes up to graze over your kiss swollen lips. The spot where Steve Harrington just kissed you. The spot where Steve Harrington’s lips were on yours.

Little did Steve know, you’ve been waiting for him to do that for months now…

#steve harrington #friends' writing !!#reblogging from the great beyond

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