MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

pete “maverick” mitchell

ONE-SHOTS

be my angel • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

Maverick is drunk and in love with you. You’re the only person Goose trusts to care for him. Mav just wants to finally be close to you.

there's gotta be a way • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!kazansky!reader

Maverick is tired of Iceman’s assumptions. He assures you your brother is wrong about him.

pictures • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

You reflect on the way you and Maverick care for each other as he tends to your injury.

moonlight (18+) • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

Maverick’s neediness and desperation wakes you up from a deep sleep.

by the water • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

In the middle of his nightmare, Maverick pulls you towards him in his sleep. You realize he’s clutching onto you the way he held Goose.

where were you • pete “maverick” mitchell x f!bradshaw!reader

You hadn’t seen Maverick since the funeral. Decades later, you’re forced to confront your feelings for him when you unexpectedly cross paths with him at Rooster’s place.

HEADCANONS

mav's love languages • pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

nick “goose” bradshaw

HEADCANONS

dating goose • nick “goose” bradshaw x gn!reader

What Goose is like as a boyfriend!

-

request guidelines here!

come out

jake lockley x reader

summary: you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it. you couldn’t be mad at him. not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

warnings: ending fades to implied smut, sexual innuendos

tags: tooth rotting fluff, literally no plot just fluff, soft!jake, seriously this man needs to be held

word count: 0.9k

The back of Jake's knuckles brushed lightly against your cold cheek. You stirred as you rubbed your eyes, still hazy from sleep.

You knew it was Jake from the soft and aching look in his gaze– you don’t see Jake very often, he still doesn’t feel confident and comfortable enough to front frequently; his visits are not a regular occurrence but when it’s him, you know it.

You smiled endearingly at him, brushing back the curls falling over his forehead.

“‘Morning, Jake” you murmured, smoothing your hand along his bicep as his elbow was propped beside you, planted into the mattress.

Jake felt his heart flutter at the demonstration of you recognizing him so easily.

“‘Morning cariño” he whispered as he leaned to leave a kiss at the bridge of your nose. “How’d you know it was me?” he asked, letting his fingertips travel down the side of your face.

“An intuition” you affirmed, leaning into his touch. “I missed you.” you breathed out, heart aching as the words escaped your lips.

“I know” he complied as he shamefully closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m sorry querida” he apologized, looking right back into your eyes, searching for a trace of blame in them.

There was none.

You couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he had been hidden in this body for too long, feelings buried deep as he watched Marc and Steven express them freely from a distance while he had to drown them down and suffer in silence.

“I know it’s hard for you,” you said, mirroring his actions and bringing your hand to the side of his face. “But I don’t want you to push yourself too much. Take your time, okay honey?”

He nodded, a pained look covering his face, and nuzzled your hand leaving a kiss at your palm.

“Thank you” he mumbled against your skin before leaving another kiss there.

You chuckled and buried your hand into his curls. “What are you thanking me for?”

“For being so considerate. For understanding me.” he affirmed, smiling weakly. “Us.” he corrected himself.

You hooked your hands behind his neck and brought him down to your lips. He kissed them with as much passion and devotion he could give you, cherishing the intimacy and rarity of the moment.

His necklace dangled under your chin and you lightly tugged on it, drawing a sharp gasp from him before he smirked into the kiss and flicked his tongue over your bottom lip in need to feel you even more.

It didn’t take long for him to lick into your mouth, tasting you thoroughly until he ran out of breath.

He pulled away but remained close, nuzzling your neck as you ran your hands along his bare back, nails softly scraping against his warm skin just the way you knew he liked.

“I love you” he mumbled into your neck. He had wanted to say it, but he hadn’t expected the words to escape his mouth so easily. It needed to be said anyways.

He left a kiss in the crook of your neck, punctuating his previous words.

You felt your heart skip a beat, and one of your hands mindlessly traveled to his curls like it was a reflex. You scraped your nails against his scalp, and soothingly swiped your thumb over his shoulder blade with your other hand.

“I love you too Jake” you replied, looking down at the man buried into your neck.

He adored when you held him like that; just you and him, nothing else around, no one else around, no Khonshu, no danger, no blood to shed– just him resting in your arms, cherishing his turn at fronting without it being an emergency to protect his alters; just him living his life with you, taking the time to breathe. He could get used to it.

“I would love to see you come out more often,” you affirmed as he looked back at you. “I know it’s hard and I’m not putting you under pressure but–”

“–Yeah” he nodded, pinching his lips. “I know” he said in a whisper as he dived to kiss your lips again, his fingers holding your chin while he did so. He pulled away, threading his fingers through your hair as he remained leaning over you. “Truth is– I want you all the time” he said with a small grin growing at the corner of his mouth. “All the fucking time.” he added through gritted teeth.

“Well… You can have me all you want now” you whispered with a small chuckle, and you knew from there that the atmosphere had changed. Jake stopped his kisses and stayed still for a moment. Did you break him?

“...Jake?” you called, confused at his silent state. Jake wasn’t very talkative but this was strange.

“...All I want ?” he finally asked back, his dark eyes carefully examining your face.

You chuckled softly. “All you want.” you affirmed, stroking the back of his neck.

A small smirk grew on his lips. “Mmmh okay. Interesting. Very interesting” he hummed as his hands met your hips, gently kneading the skin there before diving right back to your neck, leaving open mouthed, warm kisses there.

You almost choked on air at the sudden feeling of his teeth nipping at your skin– you should have expected it, it’s Jake after all.

“Jake!” you exclaimed, uncontrolled giggles escaping your mouth.

“I better take advantage of that free time then, mh?” he asked before kissing your cheek, tangling his legs with yours.

“Yeah you better” you teased, only hoping all of this will get him to front more often.

It was only a matter of time before Jake finally felt legitimate fronting as much as Marc and Steven did.

—

moon knight taglist:

@apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt

“Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting” with Din except instead of shirt sleeves he’s removing pieces of his armor?

That's terribly distracting. + Din Djarin

warnings: very lightly nsfw-ish toward the end

You aren't really paying Din much mind.

He's moving around the hull of the Crest with practiced efficiency like he always does. You stay curled where you are, patiently waiting for him to finish up so you might go up to the cockpit together.

You want to watch the stars. It helps keep the baby asleep, and even if Din didn't admit it to you, you know he loves to watch them too.

It's when something thuds that you look up.

He's facing away from you, slowly and methodically removing his armor. The muscle of the broad plains of his back twists as he shifts to remove different pieces of beskar.

It's so strange, so completely odd and out of the ordinary, that you freeze.

You watch with a dry mouth until the last piece of beskar is removed, aside from his helmet.

He's never removed his armor in front of you, though you have seen him without it before. You have never gotten to watch the process, never seen him so openly remove it.

His gloves are peeled off next, then his boots.

You start to wonder how far this might go and decide to speak up. "That's terribly distracting, you know," you say from your place curled atop some stacked crates as you switch off the datapad in your hands. "Incredibly distracting."

Din just chuckles, the sound breathy and low. It shivers straight down into your gut, breaks apart the lining of your heart.

You straighten and drop your legs, leaning back against the ship's wall instead.

He turns and approaches you slowly, every step deliberate and well taken, only stopping when he's between your parted thighs.

His hands, warm and broad, anchor on your thighs. "It's a sign of trust," he tells you without preamble. "Common among my people."

You make an indignant noise as his hands slide to your waist. "You only trust me now?"

"No," he tilts his head at you, "but I know how distracted you can get." The low breathy tone of his voice sends sparks skittering over your skin.

You narrow your eyes, "Are you...teasing me?"

He doesn't answer, pressing his brow to yours instead, the helm cool against your skin. "Thank you for this sign of trust," you say. "I do stand by the opinion that it's distracting."

"I can keep it on-,"

"No," you answer, too quickly, tightening your grip on him.

He chuckles again, hands still heavy on your hips.

You're not exactly sure what the dynamics of Mandalorian courting, or dating even, are. But you're fairly sure you've graduated to some intense inner circle. Not quite a part of the little clan, but somewhere close.

Hesitantly, you press your hands over his forearms, firm and muscled beneath your touch. "No, that's alright," you whisper, watching the dark visor as you slide your hands up to his elbows and sweep your thumbs against the delicate bone there.

His hands drift back, circling your waist and tugging you into him.

Din's shoulder is soft when you lower your head there, the space between his shoulder and edge of the helm even more so. He smells like soap, like the oil he uses on his armor.

One hand trails up your back slowly, tapping, counting the edges of your vertebrae. The other leaves your back, and you automatically close your eyes. The hiss of the helmet comes, quiet in the silence of space.

He tilts your face back with one hand cupped against your jaw.

The familiar embarrassment creeps up, of having his gaze so firmly and nakedly locked on you, without you being able to look back, without being able to read the look in his eyes.

You'd love to know the shade of them at the very least.

"Mesh'la," his whispers and your skin prickles with delight. His hair tickles your forehead when he leans in. It feels light against your skin, like feathers caressing you.

You reach up and press your hands over his cheek, trying to map his face without seeing him. Din just sighs, because he knows what you're trying to do. But the sound isn't irritated, just resigned and vaguely amused.

"I bet you're pretty too," you tease.

He huffs. "Pretty. I'm not calling you pretty." The bristle of his facial hair tugs at your skin, lips drifting across your cheek. "Mesh'la is more than that. It means beautiful."

"Me'ven? Really?" You ask, feigning disbelief.

"Clever," he remarks dryly. "This is what I get for teaching you Mando'a."

You don't get a chance to respond.

Din kisses you, both hands cupping your face.

And you can't complain about that, drawing your hands up to his shoulders and then through his hair. The locks are soft around your fingers, longer than it usually is.

His tongue slips into your mouth, hands drifting down your back to your waist. He tugs you closer, his hips lazily thrusting against you. The press of him heavy against your center, and you tighten your fingers on his hair.

Din wasn't always so confident with you, too closed up and closed off and far away for moments like this, to even consider touching you like this. But he's familiar to you now, you've been with him for so long and in so many ways.

He breaks away from your mouth with a gasp, burying his face against your shoulder.

"Riduur," he murmurs against your skin.

You cup a hand against the back of his neck. "Well," you say, hooking a foot against the back of his thigh to keep him pressed against you. "There's a word I don't know."

Din doesn't answer, strangely silent where he was usually forthcoming in telling you what Mando'a words meant.

He mumbles something else unintelligible into your skin and you decide to let it go, distracted by the feel of him between your legs, and his bare hand fitting itself beneath your shirt, his skin hot without the gloves.

Translations:

Mesh'la - beautiful

Me'ven? - What? Expression of bewilderment or disbelief

Riduur - spouse, partner, wife, husband

i’m back on my moon knight bullshit

i love marc spector, steven grant, and jake lockley 🫶

that’s it

that’s the post 😁

how they are in bed || moon boys

a/n: this is my first semi-fic (this is more so a headcanon) of the moon boys, so bear with me. can you tell whether or not i have a favorite? 😉

warnings: features mentions of smut, 18+ only to read

STEVEN GRANT

Steven, our precious Steven. He’s the sweetest in bed. He’s all for gentle caresses over your skin as he hovers above you, lips inches from yours. He wants to feel every bit of you even if it makes him undeniably nervous. The first time you two had sex, you would’ve thought he was a virgin, and in retrospect he was... It was the sweetest thing you had ever experienced – someone who took such pride in ensuring you felt amazing.

            Steven’s all for missionary so he can hold your hands and stare at you as he enters you. He kisses your face in butterfly-like flutters, lips dragging over your soft cheek to kiss you. His tongue will gently glide across yours and dance for power, but he normally succumbs to you. Steven praises you, telling you how beautiful you are, how warm and soft you feel, tells you how you’re perfect.

            “Look at us, love... Oh, you are so beautiful, darling. Love you so much.” He’ll whisper to you, fingertips holding your hip.

            He’ll let the two of you experiment and he’s especially fond of watching you crawl on top of him and take control. He’ll hold your hips in place as you bounce up and down, listening intently as your wanton moans fill the space of his tiny flat, so devoted to ensuring you’re glistening in euphoria. Steven likes to rub the notches of your hips while you ride him as he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

            “Can’t hold on much lo-longer, darling. You feel so good. So perfect on top of me.. Oh, sweetheart, please don’t stop. Don’t stop.” His accent rings thick and his eyebrows press together as spine-chilling pleasure courses through your pressed bodies.

            Steven is also big on cuddling after sex. He tells you all the time that cuddling with the love of your life post-sex releases a ton of endorphins that’ll have you giggly for hours. He’ll trace your hands as he lets you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, where you’ll lazily entwine your body with his as he scratches your back, telling you how he’s so lucky to have you.

JAKE LOCKLEY

Jake is aggressive. He comes around rarely, deciding that he’s better off not getting too close to you for the sake of ensuring you were protected, but when he does... Oh, sparks are flying. Jake is not above coming up behind you and wrapping his hand around your throat as he whispers delicious dirty talk against your ear while he palms you through whatever you’re wearing, telling you that he’s about to make a mess of you.

“Oh, cariño... Soaked. Like the filthy girl I know you are.” Jake’s words reverberate through you, as he’s already whisking you over his shoulder and throwing you onto the bed. He’s rough, he’s extremely dominant, and he’s not above getting his way, of course with your consent.

He’s hard, he’s quick, but each tailored movement has you seeing stars. Jake loves to have you on all fours as he rails you from behind, watching underneath the shape of your body to see your breasts bounce with each timed thrust, his body warm and hot, pressed firmly against yours.

“Taking it so well, mi amor,” Jake will sometimes deliver you some much-needed sweet talk. He’s your protector. He’s Marc and Steven’s protector. But even he won’t deny that he needs some of you, especially after he listens to his alters go on and on about you for days on end upon having some of the best sex. Which is why he appeases you in a different aspect, choosing to be rough and hard, leaving sore bruises on your neck from how hard he’s kissing and sucking, the indents of his fingertips on your hips leaving a ghostly feel over you for days.

Jake will kiss his way up your spine, and he’ll edge you until no tomorrow, but when he does let you spill over the edge, he’s feeling the effects. That rippling shake of your walls as they entrap him, not daring to let him go. Jake is spent over the rail, his body falling limp to yours.

Unlike Steven, Jake isn’t a cuddler after sex, no. He’ll clean you up, yes. But he doesn’t want to experience that endorphin-filled chase that cuddling post-sex can give him. Jake doesn’t want you to get too attached to him. You both understand his spot in your life. It wasn’t like that of Marc and Steven.

He was a protector, not a provider. But he was very enthralled when he got the chance to have mind-blowing sex with you. It’d carry him over for weeks at a time, believe it or not. You and Jake shared heated moments that neither Steven nor Marc could provide. You two understood each other on an entirely different level.

MARC SPECTOR

Our beloved Marc... He has the entire mix. While Steven is softer, Marc is much harder. But where Jake turns everything off after the deed is done, Marc loves to feel you against him and he’s the aftercare king. Marc loves to take his sweet time with you, building you up to a point of no return as his fingertips glide over your warm skin and he puts your fingers to good use.

Tangling through his hair, Marc loves to feel your hips arch into his face as he finds the sweetest elixir known to man, and for a while there, he wasn’t the most vocal man. But then he let his guard down, knowing how his noises made you feel.

            Soft grunts between every thrust of his tongue into you while his hands palm your sides and entrap your thighs around his flushed face. His sweet little hums, those jaw-dropping suckling noises as he finds your clit, Marc ensures that by making you come, you’re doing it hard, fast, and all over him.

            He loves to switch up the positions. Loves a good missionary, but he’s also a fan of you being on top, and then of course, all fours. His dirty talk teeters on a never-ending point of sweet honey and core-throbbing phrases.

            “There’s my baby, come on. Little more, sweetheart, you can do it.” He’ll tell you when you’re on your knees for him. “That’s it, baby... Oh, shit, that’s my girl, just like that.” Before he’s twisting the tables and having you spent on his length as he pounds into you.

            “You’re squeezing so tight around me, baby. Not gonna be able to hold on much longer. Y-you feel so good.” He’s a stammering mess, a grunting noise machine as he comes deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.

He loves to play with you afterward, plugging his fingers in your tight channel before he’s pulling out mixed loads of you two, offering himself the pleasurable taste of you before you’re on your knees and sucking him clean which hardens him once more.

            Aftercare, he’s your man. He’ll use a warm washcloth to clean between your sticky thighs before he’s piling himself on top of your chest, the weight of his body crushing you into the mattress, but it’s exactly how you envision post-sex to be every time with Marc.

He was your sweet but salty lover, soft like Steven, but rough like Jake, thus creating him to be the perfect melody in the relationship.

sweet love || steven grant

a/n: oh sweet steven, i love this guy to pieces! enjoy this sweet little fic 💗

warnings: none! super fluffy, a nervous steven who is in love with his best friend ❤️ no usage of y/n!

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: steven can barely hold himself together around you, always wondering what it would be like to kiss you. finally, he gets the chance and it nearly makes him late for work

w/c: 1.7k

my library

Steven listened to your bellowing from the shower. He knew he didn’t have the courage to sing so proactively, so sweetly in the apartment for the fear that others would hear him.

            But Steven could listen to you for hours on end. He sat at his desk with the heart-shaped locket held in his hands. You had asked if you could stay with him for a couple of days while you were getting everything moved into your new apartment. Of course, Steven wouldn’t tell you ‘no’. But he would admit – it was hard when every time he saw you, his heart leaped in his throat, and his ears began to ring.

            You were singing a melody he was fond of, one that made his lips twist with a smile. Every time he drew in a breath, your sweet perfume and fruity body wash captivated his senses, and those bundling nerves only multiplied. Surely, he could power an electric fence right now with as many sparks he had coursing through his veins.

            Donna was forcing him to be on inventory tonight, and while he liked his job in some respects, he honestly wished he could stick around with you for the evening, to see what trouble you were going to get into.

            He was so lost in thought, between twirling the gold locket between his fingers and chasing restless visions of you, he was startled when you called his name.

            “Love!” Steven yelps, his eyes widening when he sees you stroll out in nothing but his white, fluffy towel. Oh, he knew it was going to smell just like you.

            You smiled; teeth exposed. “I asked if you could hand me my clothes from your bed? I’m sorry, I forgot them...” You ask him shyly, sheepishly, trying to move so water didn’t continuously pool at your feet from the hot shower.

            Steven’s brown orbs find your clothes folded neatly on his bed. Hurriedly, he stands up and grabs them, bringing them to you. He was trying his hardest to be a gentleman. He kept his eyes trained on your face, but he suddenly fell victim when you moved slightly, and the towel dropped. You quickly tightened your grasp on the edges, Steven begins to stammer.

            “I-I–“

            Through a sweet giggle that is like honey on his ears, you smile and take your clothes from him.

            “It’s alright, Stevie,” You smile and give him a gentle wink before retreating to the bathroom.

            Steven hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until he felt the pain erupt in his chest, that burning feeling provoking him to draw in a deep breath all too much for his lungs. He stared face-to-face with the solid door leading into the bathroom, your soft hums filling the bathroom.

            He had to take a seat – this time on the edge of the bed. His head fell into his hands as he tried to argue with himself about what his next step should be.

            “You obviously think she’s pretty, you bloke...” He tells himself. “Tell her how you feel, Steven!” He antagonizes himself, mentally beating himself up over the idea of having you all to himself. He doesn’t want to do stupid inventory. He wants to stay here. He wants to be with you.

            Steven’s about to self-destruct, his saving grace being the door pulling back to reveal you. He stared at you, noticing your hair was still a bit damp. You were wearing a pair of jeans and a rock band tee with a jean-jacket over your shoulders. You were grabbing dinner with a couple of friends tonight before you headed over to the apartment to check on progress.

            You can feel Steven’s eyes focused on you, and suddenly, you feel a bit self-conscious. You thought he was insanely adorable in his own fashion, some of his mannerisms... He was a true gentleman. Always held the door open for you, always wished you a good day, and lent his ears multiple times when you had to get things off your chest. Truly, Steven Grant was one of your best friends, but you honestly prayed that the line haze and you could be something more.

            Glancing over at Steven’s desk, you saw your locket.

            “Do you mind?” You ask once you’ve picked up the necklace.

            Steven shakes his head and comes over to you. “Dinner with your friends tonight?” He asks, remembering vividly what your plans for the night were. He just wanted to make conversation because this awkward silence was getting the better of him.

            “Yeah,” You smile as you turn around. “I won’t be out late.”

            “It’s fine, love. I’ll be at the museum anyway doing inventory.” He huffs.

            “That Donna lady seems like a real piece of work, Steven,” You chuckle. “Do I need to come gives her a piece of my mind?”

            Steven smiles as he unclasps your necklace.

            “I wouldn’t mind that,” Steven chuckles behind you. “Careful – might be a little cold,” You adored his accent and how poised he sounded, even when nervous.

            You feel the metal chain fall over your neck and you couldn’t help but gasp.

            “Yeah, a little cold.” You agree with his earlier statement.

            Steven laughs. “Sorry, love. I’ll try and be quick.” He says, and that was when you felt the warmth of his breath fan over the back of your neck. It sent a rush down your spine, realizing that he was this close to your neck. A few inches over and he could easily kiss your soft column, but you knew you were asking far too much.

            Steven’s fingertips touched your skin, and you swore fires ignited in the spots he gently swiped over. Your eyes closed and you knew the necklace should’ve been clasped by now, but you wondered if Steven was stalling, was he thinking the same thing as you?

            He was. That and more.

            Steven swallowed, his throat growing dry. His mouth watered at the sight of your pretty skin, wondering how bad it would be if he just dropped a tender kiss to the back of your neck. He had the necklace clasped, but he felt glued to the floor, glued to this moment. This agonizing moment that could potentially ruin your friendship or open the door to something better.

            “Darling, I... Oh, bullocks. Slap me if I cross the line but I can’t stop myself and–“

            He’s rambling. So you take the matter into your own hands.

            Twisting in his grasp, his hands just so happen to perfectly fall on your waist where his fingertips feel the soft cotton of your tee. You wrap your hands around his cheeks and ease up on your toes to capture his mouth. Steven meets you in the middle, his mouth parted and ready.

            Kissing Steven kickstarted your heart. You felt as though you were soaring well above the moon, and you hadn’t realized he would taste that sweet. Like honey drops and innocence, Steven Grant was the softest kisser you had ever experienced, but it was that beautiful softness that made the kiss that much better than all the rest.

            Steven tries his hardest to swallow the hum, but it’s simply useless. He hums directly into your mouth, thumbs rubbing nervous-filled circles into your hips as you push him back slightly, aiming for the bed. Steven takes a few steps back until his back is sent crashing to the mattress.

            You don’t waste your time. You’re crawling on top of him, and Steven’s eyes are bloody wide, and that was when you first realized that maybe you should’ve asked before doing.

            “Steven,” You gulp. “I...”

            His lips remain parted, but his eyes spoke another story. His jeans were beginning to feel insanely tight, and he didn’t know what to do. Of course, he wanted to take it another step. He wanted to lay here for hours and make out with you, but he didn’t want to risk losing you forever.

            “Love, it’s-it’s okay,” Steven swallows hard. “I... You’re so pretty.” He finds himself growing lost in your face, the light above the bed shining on you.

            You feel your cheeks burn with his comment.

            “I pushed it too far, and I know we’re best friend’s, and –“

            “Don’t worry that pretty little head, darling.” Steven cuts you off this time. “I want this... I need this.”

            Your heart races even faster.

            “R-really?” You stammer.

            Steven nods his head. He looks up at you with a boyish grin. You crawl off his lap and allow him to sit up straight. “But I believe we need to address the matter at hand... How does this affect us? I love being your best friend, and I don’t know what I’d do without you, but I also really, really like you... I have for a long time.”

            You felt like teenagers, suddenly spilling your love-adorned thoughts about the other.

            “Stevie,” You giggle quietly. “I really like you too.” You smile. Steven hadn’t been in a true relationship. He tried, but everything seemed to never fall into place. Yet when he thought of you, everything made sense.

            Steven wraps his hand around your cheek and guides you closer.

            “Let’s try that again,” He laughs. You smile and nod your head, feeling as Steven leaned forward and initiated the next kiss.

            It remained soft, but much deeper, and a lot more passionate than the first.

            That kiss single-handedly made your world implode and you found yourself falling against the mattress this time, you and Steven curling your legs through the other’s as he wrapped his fingertips through your hair and deepened the kiss even further.

            You two were so caught up in your heated make-out session, tongues touching and teeth almost clashing, hands hurriedly flying to the others body, that Steven realized some time had passed. He jolted away from you, his eyes widening.

            “Your dinner!” He exclaimed. “Oh no, your friends are going to hate me!”

            You check the time on Steven’s watch and your eyes widen.

            “Donna is gonna kill me,” You look up at him and as you two share a serious look, you dissolve with laughter.

            “Can we pick this up when we get home?” You ask Steven with a soft look on your face.

            Steven smiles widely and picks up your hand, kissing your knuckles, one-by-one.

            “It’ll be the only thing getting me through inventory tonight, darling.” He whispers, moving to kiss your cheek before officially releasing you from his clutches.