summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!
warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)
It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.
But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.
A perfect routine.
The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.
You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.
Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.
“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”
Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.
“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.
That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”
He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.
A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.
The most dreamy.
“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.
Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“Something woke you up?”
When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.
“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.
You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.
“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh-huh!” he counters back.
“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”
You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.
“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”
Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”
“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”
He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.
“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.
Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.
Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.
And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.
And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.
Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.
This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.
“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.
“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest.
Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.
“All night?” That poor boy.
He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.
“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow.
You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”
Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”
You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.
And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it?
Always putting you first. Always thinking of you.
You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.
Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”
Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.
“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”
His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.
You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”
Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.
“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise.
You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.”
Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”
You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure.
Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.
At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”
His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”
His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.
Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.
this made me giggle today. The fact that he’d sleep on the freaking couch- it’s a very Steve thing and I stand by this fic author. The end had me dying though. Mischievous little fella, isn’t he?
cw: no smut, but there’s allusions to mutual masturbation and an over abundance of filthy flirting b/c these two simply can’t help themselves. the concept for eddie’s shoot is inspired by this (nsfw) incredible freaking art by @safk-art.
18+, MDNI┃2.2k
You’ve never been a fan of these calendar shoots.
It takes practically the entire day and the studio is packed full because they bring in just about every performer under contract to participate.
It’s loud and chaotic, lots of PAs running back and forth with the most random assortment of props you’ve ever seen. And it’s stifling hot with all the bustling bodies, equipment and lightboxes, flash bulbs going off every five seconds.
Right now there’s a few girls in Victoria’s Secret-esque getups with feathery angel wings being cupids for February, while two more covered in glittery body paint are getting ready to pose in a cauldron to be a “pot of gold” for March. After them, it’ll be girls in big yellow rain boots with matching caps and nothing else spraying one another with a hose for April.
The remaining months are still in the process of being set up, backdrops being changed out and lighting adjusted. On the furthest wall, there’s a big board with everyone’s assignments and the various call times as well as mock-ups of each concept and who will participate in the photo.
You’ve already visited the board and deduced your first stop will be the wardrobe department so you can get your costume. You’ve also noted that a certain someone will likely be finishing up his turn at the make-up mirror right around the same time you’re done being fitted.
When you emerge from behind the curtained off area set up for people to change, yours eyes meet Eddie’s across all the chaos and he’s immediately getting up from his chair, striding towards you.
Your body can’t help but react to his presence, despite your best efforts to keep your face neutral and squash the urge to run directly into his arms.
You might’ve thought it had been days or weeks since you saw him, rather than mere hours. You might’ve thought you woke up that morning on opposite coasts rather than with your naked limbs entwined and tangled up in your bedsheets. You might’ve thought he was some kind of long lost lover whose face was fading from memory the way your heart leapt just from seeing him.
Still, you know you can’t greet him the way you want to. Not with all these people around.
Word has yet to get around about you two, and you intend to keep it that way. The current theory is that what happened at the awards was just a fluke—a random, drunken, one-night thing.
(A one-night thing that’s led to the best weeks of your life, but that’s neither here nor there.)
You’re meant to be playing it cool, keeping things professional, still holding all your cards decidedly close to your vests, at least for the time being.
But Eddie's not exactly making it easy.
He lets his dressing gown slip open slightly as he walks over, showing off a little more of the top of his chest and his thick, muscular neck where it meets his pronounced collarbones.
Slut, you think with the utmost affection.
The boy certainly makes for a cute Rudolph.
He’s snagged the coveted December slot, and the creative director has chosen a bondage theme—hence the body harness they’ve got him in under his thin robe, as well as a collar with jingling gold bells and a pair of antlers on top of his mop of unruly curls. For the picture, he’s also going to be tied up with Christmas lights, struggling against the illuminated ties while you and the rest of the ‘reindeer’ stand around him laughing and teasing him mercilessly for his bright red ‘nose.’
You imagine that’s what he was in the chair for, getting the head of his dick painted with deep scarlet rouge so it’ll look like it’s shining.
It’s all seems like a bit much, but even you have to admit you’re excited to see the end result.
He scans up and down with those mischievous eyes, all the while having to resist the urge to slip his hands around your waist and pull you into him, showing you just how redundant you’ve made the Viagra he popped earlier. He should have known he wouldn’t even need it once you were on set.
He snaps his fingers and points, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Let me guess…Vixen?”
The bells on the collar around your neck jingle as you smile and shake your head.
“More like Dancer,” you replied lowly, dropping to a breathy whisper when he got close enough to hear. “Or did you forget last night already?”
“Not forgetting that anytime soon,” he promised in a husky whisper of his own.
You shiver at his words as they trickle down your back, and you can almost feel his hands on you exactly as they were the night before—fingers splayed wide to hold onto as much of you as possible when he reached out for your ass.
The dance had started out innocently enough, as a brainstorming session for your next project, only for it to devolve as it often did these days into you attacking one another once one or both of you could no longer restrain yourselves. The pretense of you as a stripper giving your security guard a lap dance as thanks for chasing away a handsy creep fell away, along with your clothes.
This newfound aspect of your relationship was certainly inspiring a lot of ideas, but it had proved to be more of a hindrance to your work ethic than anything else. Still, you couldn’t be too broken up about it. Not when you’re having the best sex of your personal and professional life combined.
“Not forgetting this anytime soon, either,” Eddie adds, still staring raptly at your costume.
You and the other girls are dressed pretty simply in matching brown teddies and antlers of your own, plus collars similar to Eddie’s. They’re also going to paint your faces to look more like deer, with cute little noses and tiny white freckles and extra-long lashes. And yeah, it’s a little silly. But the way a certain pair of bright brown eyes are pouring over you right now…it’s well worth it.
“Hey…think you get to keep this?” he asks quietly, carefully fingering the marabou trim.
“Unlikely,” you frown and then eye him coyly. “But Tina might let me borrow it…assuming it’ll be returned to her in pristine condition.”
Eddie hisses softly through his teeth and his head quickly shakes back and forth.
“Yeeeeah, I can’t guarantee that,” he chuckles.
You deliver a light swat to his chest. Not too flirty, but not strictly platonic either. Though, it’s times like these that make you wonder why you bother.
Anyone looking on could probably see straight through your paltry attempt to act disinterested, and you’ve already started getting third degrees from some of your friends in the industry who have seen the massage tape.
Almost as soon as it was came out, you were being bombarded. People were quick to praise the chemistry between you and your co-star, but they were even quicker to drop their voices to a hushed and conspiring whisper as they asked what was ‘going on’ between you two.
And when you tried to say it was nothing or that you were just friends…it didn’t exactly go over.
You’re joking, right? Nah, no one is that good an actor, babe. The man is fully obsessed with you. Just look at his face when he—
So, yeah, okay, word was likely going to get out. But it wasn’t going to be today.
Right now, you just had to focus on taking this photo and getting through the rest of the day so you could spend the rest of your night with the adorable creature standing before you.
“I’m headed for make-up,” you offer. And in a lightning-quick move, you reach out to squeeze his arm, then swipe at it gently like you were just brushing off a piece of lint for him.
Very discreet. So covert.
Eddie tucks his chin to his chest as he nods, his eyes still roving over you and your skin he can see through the sheer material. You move to walk past him, letting your hip graze decidedly against his.
“Smile pretty,” you whisper under your breath.
It’s not too much longer before they’re calling people over for your shot and instructing Eddie to get in position first. He drops his gown and sinks to his knees in the center of the frame, hard and freshly pumped cock bobbing between his thighs. The fake polyester snow on the floor provides at least a little cushioning, and the red on his head looks extra bright against the sparkly white.
The effect is…extremely distracting.
Even knowing it’s just make-up, as is the fake cum dribbling from his tip, your mind swirls with recent memories of his cock looking just like this in real life—his own fist wrapped tight around it, sliding up and down in long, even strokes; your dresser rattling as he leans on it for support while you lay with your legs splayed wide in your bed, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit.
His eyes meet yours briefly and from the way they flash, you’re certain he’s remembering it too.
Once the photographer is happy with Eddie’s placement, the PAs come to tie his hands behind his back. They wind the strands of lights around his arms and torso up to his shoulders, draping them across his chest and then crossing them behind his back. Two of the girls are given the ends to hold so he looks like he’s hog-tied.
The light bounces prettily off his pale skin that glows a rosy pink, and you make a mental note to shoot him in similar lighting. Soon.
Maybe you’ll do something like this, but with just the Christmas lights. Him in your bed, his delicate wrists tied to your headboard, those soft rainbow lights the only color in the darkened room aside from that of a deep, cool blue winter night…
Okay, seriously. You’ve got to stop.
You’re at work, don’t forget.
Luckily, they’re placing the rest of you now and you’re brought into the foreground to stand next to Eddie. The two of you exchange another look as they fine tune the lighting, and you shoot him the subtlest wink you can manage. It’s short, so quick he nearly misses it, but it’s all he needs to be absolutely certain his dick will stay hard for the remainder of the shoot. Maybe the whole day.
He’s only vaguely aware of the girls standing behind him, or all the people crowded in behind the camera. Once they start shooting, his vision tunnels until all that’s left in focus is you.
The only thing he knows is it’s probably a good thing his hands are tied. Because the way you’re looking, he could not be held responsible for where his hands would wander if they were free.
Eddie gives himself over to the character he’s meant to be playing, and it’s really not all that hard acting pathetic and desperate for you. The lights he’s all tangled up in tighten as the girls holding either end pull them taut, and the room fills with their giggling as they laugh at him.
But honestly, Eddie doesn’t have any idea what the rest of the reindeer are doing. All he can focus any of his attention on is you in that damn teddy, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger to make him look at you, smirking like he’s a piece of dirt you wouldn’t let lick your kneecap, let alone anything more erogenous, no matter how hard he begged you for it.
Yet somehow, he’s only more eager to try.
He knows they have the shot they want almost immediately, but they go through a few more poses just to have options. In one, they have you stand with one of your heels planted on Eddie’s chest and if you stay like that much longer, the fake cum on his tip is gonna have company.
Finally, they’re satisfied and there’s a great deal of droning chatter that sort of fades into static as they start to move on to the next shoot.
The rest of the girls wander off, but you kneel and start to unwrap the strands of Christmas lights for him. And they weren’t that tight, but you still massage his wrists once they’re freed and lean in close to his ear so you can whisper how well he did. His cock kicks up all over again at your gentle doting and he wonders if you’ll keep this up tonight at hom—your place.
Once he’s freed, you start to wind up the lights in your hand and glance around for the PAs who are nowhere to be found. You then push the coil into Eddie’s hands and give him a level look.
“See if you can sneak those out,” you instruct him with a smirk. “I’ve got plans for them later.”
ty for reading, merry late whatever-you-celebrate! ❄️💋
therapist cancelled our appointment this week so ive decided to rewatch my comfort teen dramas from start to finish. which is the same thing. basically.
summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!
warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)
It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.
But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.
A perfect routine.
The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.
You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.
Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.
“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”
Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.
“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.
That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”
He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.
A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.
The most dreamy.
“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.
Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“Something woke you up?”
When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.
“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.
You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.
“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh-huh!” he counters back.
“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”
You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.
“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”
Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”
“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”
He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.
“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.
Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.
Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.
And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.
And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.
Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.
This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.
“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.
“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest.
Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.
“All night?” That poor boy.
He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.
“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow.
You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”
Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”
You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.
And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it?
Always putting you first. Always thinking of you.
You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.
Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”
Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.
“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”
His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.
You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”
Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.
“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise.
You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.”
Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”
You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure.
Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.
At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”
His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”
His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.
Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.
