IT´S DJOSTARK CLUB

Where Steve Harrington is always in love

[djostarkclub]

Hi!!!

♡ I´m Fla ♡ 25y ♡ she/her ♡ Welcome to the yearning club

♡ Fictional men ruined my life, here is where yearning becomes a personality trait.

♡ I´m haunted by Steve Harrington and I´m your local Stonathan defender.

♡ I will eventually try to write for Kurt Kunkle and Baron Lamram because I fear I love pathetic men.

♡ But be gentle this is my first time writting here, and english it´s not my first language :(

P.S.: I don´t know if it´s noticible but i´m kinda obsessed with the color blue.

[harringtonsdiary]

harringtonsdiary sleepover!

mean! steve |  steve harrington x reader | angst| smut | enemies to lovers

warnings: reader kinda slut shames steve a bit, lies about him, both of them don't like each other. do i have to tag reader has a break-up... ugh. wtv. erm... okay guys maybe a tiny bit of dubcon IDKKKKK so maybe? forced orgasm, denial i suppose. literally only stimulating the clit so overstimulation. male masturbation, spit kink is brief... apologies, cock mouthwarming, cum on body parts :D, semi-public...? improper use of a break room thats for sure... summary: you complain to steve— the last person on earth you'd want to— about your ex-boyfriend. and steve has many opinions to offer. words: 5.1k maya... this is our msjoay child

You have zero patience the moment you walk into Family Video.

You knew Keith was going to write you up. You were twelve minutes late and he has the energy of a man who has been saving this moment his entire managerial career, and sure enough the second you push through the door he's already got the clipboard out. Two things: tardiness, and the skirt. The blue layered frill skirt that has hung in your closet for two years and made it through countless shifts without incident apparently falls one inch outside dress code, a fact Keith communicates over the course of seven full minutes while consulting the employee handbook from memory.

Steve Harrington stands behind the counter the entire time with his arms crossed and his shoulders shaking, fighting a smile so poorly it barely counts as fighting.

Keith clocks out at eleven-oh-three even though the store opened an hour ago, but apparently he has “business” to take care of. 

The door swings shut bahind him.

Steve leans back against the counter, arms crossed, the smile no longer fighting anything, and you are already rolling your eyes before he pulls breath to speak.

This is the thing about Steve Harrington: he is not a dick, exactly. He's not cruel. He doesn't do anything that you could point to in a court of law and say there, that's it, that's the thing. What he does is flirt with every girl who walks through the door and get their numbers and then hide in the backroom when they come back looking for him.

Then there was once he told Robin— in the backroom, where he apparently believes sound does not travel— that you lack attention to detail, which is reach so extraordinary you nearly respect it. He alphabetizes by first name half the time. You have never once brought it up. Okay maybe you brought it up occasionally. Often. Maybe every chance you have.

And then there was the incident with the girl last month, when you told her Steve wasn't in because he'd mentioned feeling itchy downstairs, which, fine, maybe you embellished slightly, but Robin had found it funny and that's really all the justification you need. But since then he’s been a lot more moodier when he’s around you. Barely even speaks to you. 

Also, you don't even think he's that good looking.

He's fine. He has good hair, probably, if you're being completely objective, which you are, and you've noticed in a purely observational capacity that his arms fill out his sleeves in a way that suggests he goes to the gym with some regularity, and his jeans fit him well, and you'd have to be actually blind not to notice that. That's just having eyes. That doesn't mean anything.

He has never once flirted with you, for the record. Which is fine. Great, actually, given that you have a boyfriend. Had a boyfriend. The distinction is new as of last night, when you threw Scott's things out your apartment window and told him not to come back, but the point stands.

Steve opens his mouth.

You cross the distance between you two in four steps and put your pointer finger directly on his lips.

"Don't even, Harrington." You look him dead in the eye. "Not in the mood."

You make the mistake of leaving it there.

His bewildered hazel eyes narrow, slow, something conspiratorial moving through them, and then the corner of his mouth twitches against your finger and his lips part and his tongue drags forward, and your finger drops onto it, and he closes his teeth around it with the gentlest possible pressure and just… holds it there.

The sound you make is not a gasp. It is a sharp inhale of surprise, which is completely different.

His eyes are mischievous and fixed on yours, and up close— closer than you typically allow yourself to be— you can see that his irises aren't simply brown. There's green in there, threaded through, soft and swirling, and his teeth are straight and white and his tongue is cool and wet and— you are going to actually strangle him with your bare hands.

The bell over the door chimes.

An older woman shuffles in, making a beeline for the romance section, and you turn toward her on instinct and Steve uses the moment to take your wrist. His hand large and warm, fingers spanning easily around it, and draws your finger out of his mouth slowly, his eyes tracking the shine of it after.

You snatch your hand back and wipe it on his shirt.

You feel his chest under your palm when you do it and you remove your hand immediately.

He licks his lips. Brings his thumb up to brush his bottom one, slow, like the contact has left something there he's deciding what to do with. Something in his expression shifts— not the smirk, something underneath it— and he looks at you for a moment that goes a beat longer than it should before he says, "Was gonna ask if you spilled coffee on yourself this morning."

His eyes drop to your chest. Back up.

You look down. The vest does nothing to hide the stain on the swell of your breast, dark against the fabric, thoroughly obvious.

You say nothing. He's already walking to the customer, his customer service voice emerging from somewhere inside him like a different person entirely, warm and easy and charming, and the older woman is already smiling at something he's said, and you stand where you are and roll your eyes and then linger for approximately three seconds on the way his jeans sit on his hips before you go find something to do.

.-.-.-.

You are reorganizing the candy display for the second time when the phone rings.

You know it's him before he finishes saying your name.

Scott. Three months, on and off, mostly off in practice if not in name, and last night you'd finally had enough. His stuff went out the window, you told him not to come back, you meant it. You had stood in your apartment afterward feeling entirely certain and somewhat exhilarated and had gone to bed and slept fine.

And now his voice is coming through the Family Video phone line at twelve forty-three in the afternoon, thick with rehearsed remorse, telling you how badly he messed up, how much he misses you, how he knows he can do better—

"Fuck off, Scott."

You put the phone down hard enough that the candy display rattles.

The fluorescent lights are suddenly very bright. The slushee machine is suddenly very loud. The store smells like chemicals and artificial sugar and you need to be somewhere that isn't the front of it immediately, so you go, pushing through the backroom door hard enough that it swings back and hits the wall.

Steve looks up from his magazine.

His feet are on the table. There's a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the wrapper beside him and a Coke going warm in his hand, and he takes in your expression with raised eyebrows and then loudly turns a page.

You walk over and pick up the sandwich and take a large bite.

He doesn't react.

"Why are men—" You chew. Swallow. "What is it. What is it that you're born with that makes you—" You groan at the ceiling. "What is wrong with all of you."

Steve blinks. He appears to be running an internal calculation about whether he needs to be offended. He turns another page. "Let me guess," he says, not looking up, the smirk audible. "You and meathead broke up again."

You take another bite of his sandwich.

He holds out the Coke without being asked. You take it and drink half of it in one go and set it back down. "I cannot believe I let him get me this worked up. Who does he think he is, calling here—"

Steve laughs. Loud, genuine, the kind that makes his head tip back.

"What?" you snap, reaching up to wipe a smear of peanut butter from the corner of your mouth.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

He puts the magazine down. His feet come off the table and he shifts in the chair to look at you properly, elbows on his knees. "He knows you'll take him back."

"I won't. I mean it this time."

"You said that last time."

"This time is different."

"You'll feel lonely in two days and call him." He picks up his trash, standing, moving toward the bin. "You always do." He says it low, almost to himself, something in his voice that doesn't quite match the smirk.

You uncross your arms. "That is… that's not—" You hate that your mouth can't finish the sentence with any real conviction. "It's not true."

"It is." He tosses the wrapper. Turns around. "Honestly I don't get why you're even with him. You complain about him constantly." He shifts into an impression of you that is offensive in its accuracy, his voice going up slightly: "Robin, he never buys me flowers. Robin, I don't think he knows my favorite color. Robin, I don't even think he knows where the clit is."

The backroom is not large. There is not much space between you. He takes a step closer.

"Sounds like you need to find someone else." His eyes blink half-lidded, his lips pursing with a sassy deliberateness that makes your hand itch. "Or stop complaining."

"Oh, great advice." You hold his gaze. "When you find a single guy in Hawkins who isn't you, let me know."

He tilts his head. Steps closer. Something shifts in his face— the smirk softening at the edges, his jaw ticking once— and his eyes have gone a little sad at the corners, which is infuriating because it looks genuine. "Wait." His voice drops. "What's wrong with me?"

"Plenty of things." You keep your voice soft, wanting the words to land clean. "Surprised you haven't gotten a girl pregnant by now."

"Oh, I thought it was because I have an STD?"

Your mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

Something moves behind his eyes. His tongue presses into his cheek. He steps into your space.

You are against the wall and he is close enough that you can smell him. It’s woodsy cologne, laundry detergent, the faint ghost of peanut butter. He's looking down at you with his brow furrowed, his hazel eyes darker than they were a minute ago. Both palms find the wall on either side of your head and he leans in, his mouth at your ear.

"At least I'd know where you needed to be touched."

The ache that moves through you is immediate and mortifying and you are absolutely not acknowledging it. You shift your weight— not away from him, just shifting, just adjusting, for no reason— and you look directly at his face and laugh.

Loud. Right at him.

"Yeah, right, Steve." You bring your hand up to make him look at you, fingers at his jaw. "Bet you've never made a girl cum in your life."

The corner of his lips flickers.

His thumb comes up to your chin— slow, his eyes on yours the whole time— and you take him in all at once the way you don't let yourself do usually: the moles on his jaw, the chest hair where his polo buttons are undone, the way his jeans sit easy on his hips, the slight soft curve of his stomach, his thighs, his arms, the Family Video vest that he makes look less stupid than anyone has a right to. His eyes, hazel and green and completely focused on your face.

Fuck.

His hand trails down your side. Finds your hip and squeezes, warm and sure, and neither of you looks away as his fingers find the hem of your skirt and slip underneath. His pointer finger traces a slow circle on your upper thigh and your breath goes shallow and you keep your expression completely neutral through what you can only describe as heroic effort.

His hand moves higher.

His palm cups you through the fabric of your underwear and your back arches off the wall by a degree before you catch it, breathing through your nose, furious at your own body, furious at the warmth of his hand, furious at the specific and undeniable ache of wanting more pressure.

Steve Harrington is the last person. The absolute last person. You don't even like him. You don't even think he's—

His fingers slip beneath the waistband.

Oh, you think, oh no.

His finger slides between your folds and the sound you make is quiet and involuntary and you hate it and him and yourself in equal measure.

He exhales a soft laugh against your cheek. Licks his bottom lip. "You're so wet, sweetheart." His voice is low and wondering, almost private. "For me?"

"You fucking wish, Steve—"

His middle finger finds your clit.

One slow, precise circle, and the word you were going to say next dissolves completely into a gasp that echoes off the backroom walls.

He leans into you, his nose pressing into your temple, his breath warm at your ear.

"Gotcha."

"Big deal." Your voice comes out unsteady and you hate it. "You want a prize or something?"

His finger moves in tighter circles, faster, and the pressure of it unspools something low in your stomach, heat building in thick, stacking waves. His other hand is still flat on the wall beside your head and his forearm is bracketing you in and his mouth is at the corner of your jaw and you are gripping the wall behind you with both hands because the alternative is grabbing onto him and you are not doing that.

"I think," he says, low against your skin, "making you cum like this will be enough."

He works faster.

Your head tips back against the wall. Your knees make a compelling argument for giving up. The circles are tight and relentless and perfectly placed and you think, with the last functioning part of your brain, of course. Of course he's good at this. Of course.

"Steve—"

"Yeah." He coos, like he knows exactly what you need. His finger works faster still, and his mouth finds your jaw, your throat, pressing warm open kisses down the side of your neck while his hand does not let up, not for a second, his wrist moving with a patience that suggests he has no intention of stopping until he gets what he wants.

Your fingers find his shoulder.

You grip it.

He makes a quiet satisfied sound against your throat.

You feel that tension building and you shake your head, your vision going blurry, clutching him harder. "Steve, please it's too much… fucking go inside or something— shit!"

Steve's hand swipes at your entrance, and you think he might listen, his middle finger barely swirling inside, and then you hear a chuckle when you moan, clutching the green vest, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. Steve himself seems a bit imbalanced. His upper body presses into your chest, and you catch the way his eyes peek down at your blouse— something tells you he isn't paying attention to the coffee stain, but maybe the way your shirt pulls down a little, and the blue linen bra that peeks out. The flesh of your tits at the neckline.

You can feel his cock, hard and twitching, against your thigh and you really don't care. At all. You press your thigh into him— the one day you forget to wear stockings— feeling the heat of him through the denim on your skin. You mewl, obviously unintentional, because of the way Steve is still rubbing hurried circles against your oversensitive clit.

Steve's breathing hard in your hair, and you can still hear him chuckling occasionally when he pulls another cry from your lips. He tries to rut against your leg, but with what feeling you have left in it you push his hips away. "Steve… please… it's…."

You grind against his hand regardless.

"I bet it is, honey." His voice is low in your ear. "Bet you've been aching for months… and this is all you've needed. Is this why you have such an attitude when you come into work? Poor thing… probably needed Steve to show you how it's done."

"Whatever…." you gasp, burrowing your face in his neck, fisting the fabric of his vest. You try to make your thoughts go somewhere else. The last thing you are going to do is give Steve Harrington the satisfaction of cumming on his hand.

He slides two fingers inside you and makes no effort to move them, his thumb taking over in fast circles. "Stop fighting it. I can feel you. You want to cum. Do it." And it's true. You're clenching around his fingers.

You shake your head. You mutter no. However, you’re pulling him closer, making him grunt, your back pressing harder into the wall from the heat of his body. You're biting into his shoulder, listening to the slick wet sounds of him working your clit. His face is buried in your neck and he's not kissing you but you feel his mouth moving there, hot whispers against your skin.

"Come on," he says your name. "Come on, I've got you."

His hand goes fast and sloppy and you're over the edge before you realize it— you don't even feel when the band snaps, you only hear yourself cry out as he draws the orgasm out of you. His hand doesn't slow down, keeps going, and your legs are weak and shaking, his large free hand gripping your hip, rutting against your thigh— and you want to laugh at him because he's so fucking pathetic and needy.

But then he taps you gently on your sweet ache, and you feel his smile against your jaw.

"There we go," he whispers.

He's off you immediately, mouth partly open, his eyes drunk— on you— eyeing you up and down as he works his belt with both hands.

You blow hair out of your face, brows furrowed, and laugh. "What the hell are you doing?"

Steve stops and looks down, unzipping his jeans. "What does it look like? Gotta take care of something."

"Don't be stupid, Harrington. I'm not sucking your dick." Your eyes flick to his bulge before you drag them back up, hating how curious you are. "And I'm not fucking you either."

He tilts his head, something that is both amusement and wanting moving through his expression at the same time. "Might shut you up." 

He smiles. 

"Might even be nice about it."

He hasn't pushed his jeans down, but the belt is unbuckled and the zipper's all the way down and he's holding the waistband even though the button is undone. You'd think he was in charge, but really he's waiting for you. You swallow, bite your bottom lip, look down then back up.

"Why should I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Kneel."

"Excuse me?"

"You came in here interrupting my break, complaining about something I didn't even care about." He glances at his watch. "I've still got eight minutes. I'm not going back out to work with my dick tucked into my waistband, so either leave and let me take care of it, or get on your knees."

You blink at him, and if it wasn't bad enough that Steve was bossing you around— heat pooled between your legs again— and you felt your knees slowly bending. One of Steve's hands shot out and grabbed yours, electricity shooting through the point of contact. You chalk it up to static, and he helps you to the floor carefully, his eyes gentle, making sure you're comfortable. His hand grazes your shoulder, his thumb brushing your cheek. For a split second it feels almost intoxicatingly tender. Something Scott never once managed during intimacy.

Then he opens his mouth.

"Take this off." He tugs at your vest. "The shirt too."

You look at him. "How is this relevant––"

"No time to argue. Off."

You grumble and shed the vest. You look at him once before pulling your shirt off over your head. You smile at the way his throat works taking you in. You can't help it. You want to see his reaction, and it's only fair, you're about to see whatever his cock looks like, you're doing him a favor here— so you take your bra off too and let it drop beside you.

Steve's eyes widen and you hear him mutter "shit" under his breath.

He wastes no more time. He untucks his polo and brings the hem up to his mouth, biting onto it, and the sight of it— him towering over you, brow furrowed, his stomach exposed, the soft ridges and the pudge, the thatch of hair on his chest, the angel kisses scattered across his skin and one right beside his happy trail— abandons you of all good sense and you're leaning forward, pressing your mouth to it. You hear his breath hitch. You kiss more of them, nip his skin. You take your hands to the fly of his jeans and spread it open, using your fingers to drag the waistband of his briefs down, kissing just above the base of his cock. You make open-mouthed wet kisses around it, licking his happy trail and around it, and you let a dribble of spit drop from your mouth. You know you're about to ruin him from the way he whimpers and bucks his hips, gripping your shoulder. But when your mouth gets close to his cock, his hand flies to your head, pushing you back.

He shakes his head.

He pushes his jeans down himself and you help, stopping mid-thigh because there's not enough time to take them all the way off. His briefs go with them and his cock, with a bead of precum at the tip, hits his stomach. Your eyes go wide.

God fucking dammit. He's hung. And you've never thought this about anyone before, but it's pretty. The pink of the tip, the girth of it, even and full, the veins tracking the length, and it twitches under your attention like it's aware of you, and you have never once in your life thought this about anyone but you want it in your mouth. You want to feel the weight of it on your tongue. You want to wrap your hand around it and watch his face. You might, at some future point, let him put the tip inside you. For fun. Briefly. Hypothetically.

You lean forward to kiss it. You almost make it. His hand is on your head again.

He takes himself in his fist and lets his shirt fall from his teeth. Looks down at you.

"Spit on it."

You do.

He moans.

"Again."

You spit again.

"More."

You have spit running in rivulets down his length, collecting warm in the crease of his fist, dripping from the tip to the floor, and you reach forward—

His hand presses your head back.

"No. Hands at your sides. And don't touch yourself."

You only half-obey. Your hands fall to your thighs, but you push your skirt up as you settle them there, your soaked cotton underwear on full display, and you watch his jaw tighten when he sees it.

He strokes himself. One pump. Two. Watching your face.

"I wanna taste you, Steve," you say.

"Oh, now you do. Pretty sure you told me I was stupid for asking."

"Please, Steve."

He looks like he is losing the hardest mental war of his life. His hand stills.

"Open."

You open your mouth. He taps your tongue with his tip— once— and the weight of it alone makes your breath go thin. He pushes forward slowly until you choke slightly and your eyes water, and you look up at him through your lashes and he is completely, irreparably gone. You hum around him and try to move.

His hand holds you still.

His cock sits heavy and throbbing in your mouth, gathering the heat of your breath, drool pooling at the corners of your lips. He looks down at you.

"You look kinda pretty like this."

You should feel humiliated. You kind of do, actually. Except for the first time you're also starting to see it. Starting to think Steve Harrington is genuinely, actually hot. Too bad you didn’t like the guy, because maybe you’d give him a shot. Or maybe just flirt with him.

He checks his watch and sighs, drawing himself out of your mouth slowly, your lips dragging along his length, wrapping around the tip as it clears with a soft pop. A string of spit connects your lips to his cock, stretching in the low light before it breaks.

He takes himself back in hand, his other hand staying in your hair, tilting you to watch, and he strokes himself above you. Fast and purposeful now, and the sounds fill the small backroom entirely: the slick wet rhythm of his fist, schlick schlick schlick, quick and relentless, punctuated by the sounds catching in his throat that he's completely stopped trying to manage. 

"Only kinda pretty?" you mumble, fighting the pout.

Not surprising, you think. This is probably the last thing Steve wanted to—

"Always pretty," he corrects. His voice is rough and strained. "Right now you're so pretty it's gonna make me cum."

Your eyes widen a little. Your stomach flips. It's different this time, quieter than heat and want, something that makes you close your mouth and say nothing.

"Aw." He works faster, his breath coming in short pulls. "Guess all I had to do was tell you how pretty you are to get you to stop being mean to me." He whimpers, schlick schlick schlick, and a wet drop splatters right below your lip. You lick it, closing your eyes.

"You think we can be friends after this?"

Your eyes snap open.

He looks so hot— already holding back his release, his hands and forearms veiny from working, his neck strained, his chest heaving, his eyes boring into yours. The Family Video vest hugging his shoulders as he frantically strokes himself.

"As if," you scoff.

He tilts his head. "Aw, but I was so nice to you earlier. Can't we put our differences aside. Hm?"

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, sure."

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"Say we can be friends."

"I said sure—" You try to look away and his hand turns your head back towards him. His eyes are dangerously dark and clouded.

He doesn't ask again.

"Okay, whatever. We can be friends—"

Steve lets out a choked moan, your name tangled somewhere inside it. You feel warmth hit your cheek and he strokes through it fast, pearly ropes landing across your tits, and you gasp as some rolls down your sternum. Steve pants, head bowed.

After what seems like hours of silence and heavy breathing, he finally moves. His watch beeps and he silences it without looking. He leans over to the table— his neck stretching, arms flexing, the curve of his waist as he reaches— and grabs a stack of napkins. Wipes his hands. His cock. Pulls his briefs and jeans back up.

He drops the napkins on the floor and holds out his hand.

You take it and he pulls you to your feet. He grabs more napkins and holds them out toward you. He doesn't hand them over, his hand coming forward instead, pressing them gently to your chest and wiping the mess himself, careful and unhurried.

You look up at his face.

He looks up and meets your eyes and they go wide. "Oh… uh. Sorry. I didn't mean to— probably should've wet them first—"

"It's fine, Steve."

And you smile at him.

It lands on him like something he wasn't braced for. He goes still, checks for the punchline, finds nothing, and his lips turn up slowly. It’s cautious at first, then warmer, something in his face opening. He goes back to what he was doing. You look down and the mess has been gone for thirty seconds at minimum and he is very clearly using the napkins as an excuse, his hands warm through the thin paper.

"Guess after this you should get tested, right?" His eyes flick up then back down. The walls are down. His eyes are a little sad.

Guilt moves through you quiet and uninvited. You don't apologize. But you say: "I trust you." A breath. A grimace. "I mean. We are friends, after all."

He smiles bigger. And if you had known— all this time— that Steve Harrington could smile at you like that, open and unguarded, like you've handed him something he didn't know he wanted… maybe you'd have hated him a little less.

He leans toward you slowly and your hands come up between you, ready to push him away. He reaches past them entirely and swipes something from your cheek with a napkin. Holds it up. His cheeks are pink.

"Got some on your—" A breath of a laugh. "Sorry."

You open your mouth.

The bell above the front door chimes.

Both your eyes go wide and then it's chaos. It’s Steve buckling his belt and tucking his shirt in while you grab your clothes from where he's already gathered them off the floor, handing them back to you. You pull everything back on in ten seconds flat. He drops to his knees to collect the napkins from the floor and you grab him by the vest.

"Steve. It's fine, go. I'm taking my break anyway."

He looks at you. Brown eyes, long lashes, the flush still high on his cheeks. He clears his throat. Straightens his vest. "Yeah. Okay." A beat. "See you in thirty."

He turns.

You look at the back of him and grab the vest again. He turns back already rolling his eyes, already wearing the face he's had on every time he’s asked what now for the past few months.

"You know." You bite your bottom lip. "I wouldn't be totally angry if you came and interrupted the last fifteen minutes of my break."

Something flashes through his eyes, low and warm. His arms cross. His voice drops. "You think I need the whole fifteen minutes?"

You step forward and hook your fingers into his waistband and watch his throat move.

"Gotcha," you say.

His face falls. You zip his fly and push him out the door and listen to him laughing on the other side. You sit down in the empty backroom and smile at nothing for a long moment before you take your break.

[washoutmyhairdye]

tit fucking with keys +18

“how much longer?” you ask shifting in keys lap as he bit his lip in concentration, eyes glued to the screen.

“i told you, i just have to get this one done,” he muttered, not even lifting his eyes from the error line on the monitor, absentmindedly brushing circles with his thumb on your lower back where his other hand was resting. finally, he locked eyes with you, his expression softening,  “i told you, you don’t have to wait for me, babe. you can just go to bed and i’ll join you when i’m done.”

“you always do that. for once i want us to actually go to bed at the same time, not for you to sneak in hours after i fell asleep,” you brush your fingers through his messy locks, gently cupping his cheek to get his attention.

“i know baby. i know. i promise this won't take much longer, okay?” he kissed your forehead and then immediately shifted his gaze back to the code, his fingers already swiftly typing away at the keyboard.

ten minutes passed. then fifteen. you started to get impatient.

“keys?”

“almost done baby, i swear. just five more minutes,” he pleaded; though you were already rolling your eyes before he could even finish the sentence.

determined to break his focus, you wiggled out of his lap; however, keys was barely paying attention, assuming you finally got tired and were heading off to bed. instead, you took a step back, pushed his chair away from the desk, nudged his legs open and kneeled down in front of him.

“baby?” he asked, brows furrowing in confusion, fingers stilling over the keyboard.

“shhh… just get back to work.”

“but-” 

“i said back to work, or i'm stopping.” he sighed in frustration and tried to get his focus back to the problem on the screen. but, it was difficult to accomplish when you were currently unzipping his pants, and your face was so close he could feel your warm breath through the clothes. without stopping his typing he lifted his hips a little allowing you to slide the fabric down his thighs.

with his pants down, you reached up and slid his shirt up past his stomach, bunching the fabric around his ribs. the sudden exposure to the warm room air made his muscles twitch, revealing the neat line of his happy trail that started right below his belly button and disappeared straight into his boxers. you leaned closer, letting your lips trace down his lower stomach, pressing warm, sloppy kisses along the soft line of hair.

wasting no time, you finally reached into his underwear and pulled out his already hard length. you wrapped your fingers around it and gave it a few agonizingly slow strokes, your thumb softly brushing the tip smearing the beads of precum. keys’ breath trembled and he swallowed thickly, struggling to read the words on the screen that suddenly made no sense at all.

about to take him into your mouth, you paused as you suddenly had an idea. in the cramped space under his desk you carefully removed your shirt and threw it to the side, unclapping your bra and letting it fall as the cold air hit your bare skin. 

keys looked down, eyes widening “what are you-”

you cut him off, “what did i say?”

he huffed and looked up again at the monitor, at this point just clicking random stuff on the screen. you leaned closer, kissing his tip before sliding him in your mouth as far as you could, making it as sloppy and wet as possible; when you pulled back, letting him slip out with a soft pop, his hips twitched desperately.

kneeling closer you used both hands to push your breasts tightly together, enveloping his full length between them.

completely giving up on the code, keys threw his head back letting a deep groan “fuck-” 

you slowly started to move up and down his shaft to tease him then picked up the pace. 

keys whimpered, and tried to swallow the sound by biting his lower lip. his fingers hovered uselessly over the mechanical keyboard, "i can't- fuck, babe, i can't think," he choked out, breathing heavily as you pressed your chest even tighter around him.

"you said five minutes" you murmured against his thigh, voice muffled, "finish the code, keys."

"you're cheating," his hips involuntarily twitching upward to meet your pace; he tried to stare at the screen, but his vision was blurring.

keys let out a ragged breath, his hands flying off the keyboard. one found the edge of the desk, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white, while the other went straight into your hair tilting your head back so he could look down at you.

"stop… please let me-" he broke off into a breathless groan as you tightened your hold, deliberately pushing him past his breaking point “mmmh fuck- fuck…”

you smirked through the heat over your cheeks, purposely slowing down the friction just to hear him whine. a frustrated sound vibrated in his chest. his grip in your hair tightened, not enough to hurt, guiding your head back down and forcing you to take the tip of him into your mouth while he began to lift his hips, dictating his own pace.

the line of code on the screen was completely forgotten, the monitor casting a blue glow over his glasses and sharp jawline as he gave in entirely to the sensation.

his eyes were squeezed shut, head thrown back against the headrest of his chair as a string of undone groans spilled from his lips. "babe- fuck, wait, i'm gonna…"

he didn't finish the warning. you dropped the hold you had on your chest, using one hand to grab the base of his cock and lead it into your mouth while the other gripped his thigh; the tight heat of your mouth pushing him over the edge. keys stiffened, his entire body going tense as he let out a choked sound.

his fingers clutched your hair as he came and thicks ropes of his cum hit your throat; you swallowed around him as keys let a breathless shudder from deep in his chest.

slowly, the tight grip in your hair relaxed, his fingers softening to smooth down your messy locks in a silent apology for holding on so tight, he let his head drop forward, looking down at you through heavily lidded eyes, a weak smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

he reached out grabbing your wrist to gently pull you back onto his lap, wrapping his arms securely around your bare waist.

"well," he murmured burying his face into the crook of your neck with a sigh. "i guess the code can wait until morning. let’s go to bed."

[djopuppy]

chapter one: in case you’d call

pairing: steve harrington x female!reader wc- 6.2k

summary: an all consuming situationship between you & “king” steve harrington.

c/w: porn with a plot 18+, smut, creampie, masturbation, tit sucking, possessiveness, king steve persona, insecurity, dom!steve, shy!reader, dirty talk, miscommunication, toxic relationship, angst, steve’s mean, eventual fluff, oc mentioned

series masterlist | prologue

It’s been two days since your night with the king, two days and the memory of Steve’s skin on yours still feels like a fresh bruise. A dull ache that felt impossible to ignore. Steve Harrington had fucked you in the back of your car then left like it was nothing, like you were just another one of the girls. It’s been hard to feel anything but hollow since then. You felt used, like you were a dirty secret that was already forgotten in the span of 48 hours.

You’ve replayed the interaction thousands of times in your head, tried to remember the feeling of his weight on top of you and the way he looked at you when he was fully inside. Sometimes you try to convince yourself it wasn’t real, that the look was practiced or performed, but something about Steve made you desperate for more. You’ve had a crush on Steve for years, but now everything has changed. Now you know what his rough hands feel like when he’s gripping your hips, what he tastes like after he’s had one too many beers, what sounds he makes when he’s thrusting in and out of you relentlessly.

And you were certain he would act like it never happened.

You waited by the phone both nights over the weekend, hopeful, but never confident that he would call. He never did, and now you were convinced he never would.

It’s Monday morning now at Hawkins High and you couldn’t feel any more exposed as you made your way through the crowd of people to get to your locker. Every laugh you heard in the loud hallway felt like it could be at your expense. You kept your head down for the most part, books clutched tightly to your chest as you tried to make yourself seem small and invisible. Because now you’re just you again, the girl who blends in and the girl who would never have Steve Harrington.

It was easy to fade into the background at school, easy to ignore everything and everyone else, but then you heard him, and once you heard him, it wasn’t so easy to ignore him.

You looked up, and halfway down the hall there he was, surrounded by his best friends leaning against his locker like he ran the entire school. Which he did, if you were being honest. Steve wasn’t looking at you though, he wasn’t even glancing in your direction. He was completely focused on his friends, on the way they were clinging to his every word.

Steve had three core friends in his group that ran the school. Tommy, Carol, and Ani. Tommy and Carol had been hooking up for years, never labeling it but everyone knew they belonged to each other. Ani and Steve were seen together sometimes, flirting or getting handsy, but it seemed pretty detached for the most part. Steve seemed pretty detached at least, he always did. You weren’t sure how Ani felt about it. Steve would bring a different girl home every weekend and by Monday, his arm was back around Ani’s shoulders.

They were loud, loud enough for everyone to know exactly what they were doing and talking about at all times. You could hear the end of their conversation as you hurried past.

“Nah, man. Quarry was weak. My parents are out of town this weekend, We’ll do it right.” Steve said lazily, his back leg kicked up on his locker and arm draped over Ani. His eyes, all brown and soft, slid over you for just a second, lingering for a moment before he looked away like he didn’t see anything at all. It would’ve felt normal but you could see the way his jaw tightened.

Tommy laughed. “Hell yeah, I’ll bring a keg.”

“Keep it chill, Dad will kill me if anything gets broken” He didn’t look at you again before you turned the corner, but his posture shifted. He stood straighter, laughed louder, and tightened his hand on Ani’s shoulder. He was ignoring you as you expected him to, but he knew you were there.

The school day dragged, slow as usual. The feeling of being exposed dampened as the day went on once you realized nobody was talking about you. Nobody was even looking.

You saw Steve again in History. Sitting in the back row, doodling in his notebook and not paying attention. You could see his reflection in the window, and every so often his eyes would flick up and settle on the back of your head before he looked back down and continued doodling. When lunch arrived it felt like a relief, you spotted your friends instantly at the usual table near the back by the bathrooms.

Ale, Becca, Monica, and María were already sat and eating their lunch when you slid into an empty seat. You couldn’t help but glance towards the popular table as you sat down. You never could. For years your friends had known that you’ve had a crush on Steve, but none of them knew that he had you underneath him two days ago. You didn’t plan on telling any of them either, you were embarrassed. It was embarrassing to be just another notch on King Steve’s belt, not because it wasn’t cool, but because he would abandon you like the rest of them.

Ale scoffed as she noticed where you were glancing “Look at them. You’d think they own the place.”

“Steve’s been staring more than usual. You finally catch his eye?” Becca teased.

You tried to play it off with a laugh, but it felt forced. “Doubt it.”

Lunch was normal, you tried to act as normal as possible around your friends. But it was always hard for you to act like you weren’t hyper aware of Steve.

On your way to class, one of your friends from the debate team, Leo, stopped you briefly in the hallway.

“Hey! You get a chance to look over the notes this weekend?” He was smiling, as always. Leo was friendly, the kind of guy who was trusted and liked by many.

“Hey. No, not yet. It’s on my to-do list! Promise!” A smile was on your face, the conversation was normal, and it made everything else feel normal too.

Leo’s hand reached out, squeezing your shoulder with a familiarity that made Steve clench his jaw from where he was standing alone down the hall. He was pretending to look for something in his locker, but his eyes kept drifting back to where Leo had just touched you.

“Alright, alright! Don’t stress about it. We could do it after school on Thursday? Grab a table at the library?”

You nodded with a smile “Yeah, that works great actually” The bell rang, so you both waved bye and continued down the hall, going your separate ways.

Your path was taking you directly past Steve as the hallway cleared. The second you began to pass him, you felt his hand shoot out from his locker and wrap around your wrist. Before you could even register what was happening, Steve was pulling you into the boys bathroom.

“C’mon. In here.” He whispered as you looked up at him.

The second you were both in the bathroom, Steve released your arm, blocking the door by leaning against it. He was looking down at you with that infuriating cocky smirk.

“Nice chat with debate club?” He crossed his arms.

“What? What are you even talking about? That’s none of your business, Steve.” You folded your arms across your chest, clutching your textbook, a little defensive and wary.

Steve laughed, taking a step towards you and putting his hands in the pockets of his khaki pants casually. “Yeah? I think you know what I’m talking about, and I think it became my business as of Friday night.”

His hand left his pocket and reached out to trace the lining of your textbook still folded in your arms. He looked entirely focused on you, possessive in a way you’ve only seen directed at others for a few weeks at a time.

“You shouldn’t be talking to him like that, princess.” Steve said quietly.

The name sent heat rushing to your cheeks that you knew would be obvious. “Talk to him like what? Why do you care? It’s not like you’re talking to me.”

He looked away, taking his hand back to run his fingers through his hair. “I don’t care.” He stepped forward again, the toes of his expensive nikes now touching the toes of your flats.

“You think I didn’t notice you all day? You’re fucking distracting.” The final bell rang, but neither of you moved. Steve didn’t seem to care, which didn’t shock you. He skipped often anyway.

“Im not doing anything. You’re the one who’s acting like nothing even happened between us.” It came out quieter than you had wanted, and it was laced with a hurt that was getting harder to hide as he stood in front of you.

He let out a long sigh at the tone of your voice and turned away, pacing the tile floor. “Jesus. What do you want me to do, huh? Walk up to you in front of everyone? You know how that would go.”

You leaned against the sink “I.. I don’t know, Steve. But I at least-“

He stopped pacing to walk back over to you, crowding you against the sink as he brought a hand up to rest it on the counter beside your hip to cage you in. His voice softened, barely, but you could hear it soften.

“I remember every second. Happy?” All you could do was look up at him, and let out a shaky breath. Your eyes were locked on his, and his were on yours. The overhead lighting made his big brown eyes look like they sparkled. His hair was falling into his forehead, face so close to yours that his nose was almost touching.

His hand moved to cradle your jaw, thumb gently tracing the line and going up to stroke your cheekbone. You felt completely frozen, back under the spell of him.

He’d left you at the party, not called for days, and pulled you into an empty room and now he wanted to give you the attention you’d been starved for. Steve had a way at this, making you forget everything he’s ever done by a simple touch.

He was handsome, yes.

But it was something about his charm.

The way he smiled, or the way he used his eyes to express himself. It made you melt under his fingers, which is why you didn’t move a muscle when his lips moved and found themselves hungrily pressed to yours.

You gasped against his mouth, obediently parting your lips when his tongue began to seek entry. The kiss was desperate, like he had been craving it just as much as you had. The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle, it was deep, insistent, and possessive. He kissed like he was trying to prove something to himself, or maybe you. His other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him the warmth of his body.

You were putty against him. Your hands lifting to rest on his chest, curling your fingers into his polo shirt as soft noises escaped your mouth and transmitted directly into his. He felt so real, so warm, so yours again.

He broke the kiss just barely to murmur against your swollen lips.

“See? I remember.” You could hear the smirk forming on his face.

He kissed you again before you could respond. His fingers moving to tangle in the hair at your neck to tilt your head back so his tongue could dive deeper into your mouth. For just a second, the kiss slowed down, becoming more about feeling than the possession of it all.

His lips traveled from your lips to the corner of your moth, kissing down to your jawline and your neck. It made your heart hammer in your chest, each kiss of his lips on your warm skin feeling like a brand that was settling into place. He was smiling against your skin, and you were smiling as you held onto his shoulders, keeping him close as you inhaled the scent of his cologne.

Steve’s hand began to gently stroke the skin of your neck as he whispered directly under your ear in between kisses “You can’t look at other guys like that. Not after what we did together.” His nose was deliberately brushing against your skin back and forth.

“I wasn’t looking at him like… like I look at you, Steve. I wasn’t.” The confession was breathless. You didn’t owe any explanation to Steve, especially not after the way he treated you. But something about the look in his big brown eyes made you want to reassure him over and over again that it was only him. That it had only been him for years, that you couldn’t imagine anyone else holding your attention captive the way that he is able to.

He smiled a little, a real smile, and kissed you again. His lips taking in your top lip, and the pull of his lip on yours sent sparks through your body. Steve kept angling his head, and each angle made his nose press against your face. Bumping against your cheek and brushing your closed eyelids. The gesture felt more real than anything you’d seen from him before. It was clumsy, and intimate.

This kiss was nothing like the kiss of “King Steve” from the car. You thought Steve was a good kisser when you first kissed him, when he was trying to get another girl off the checklist.

But now he was kissing like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth and the way your tongue moved against his. It was addicting, and you couldn’t stop pulling him in for more. Your hands were all over his chest and hair, traveling up and down his arms and squeezing the muscle that was straining against his polo that was way too tight.

The bell rung after awhile, and the both of you seemed to realize just how long you’d been making out against the sink in the boys bathroom during the middle of the school day.

Steve pulled back almost instantly, running a hand through his hair to fix it.

“Don’t wanna be late for your next class, yeah?”

You were still dazed, lips swollen and parted as you stared at the sudden switch in Steve.

“I….what?”

“Class. You should go.” He walked over to the mirror and fixed his collar. “I’ll wait a minute, don’t need people seeing us walk out together.”

He was putting the mask back on slowly, piece by piece it was coming back together, but you saw what was underneath and you wanted to see that side of Steve again so badly.

“Will I see you later?” You asked hopefully, and he looked over at you through the mirror. His eyes tracing the line of your jaw and lips again.

“Maybe. I’ve got practice.” He shrugged. “Don’t wait by the phone or anything.”

It was meant to sound casual, but it felt like a stone being dropped in your stomach.

“Seriously. You should go.” He gestured towards the door with his head.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you later?” You lingered for a few more seconds, wondering if he’d say something else or look at you again but he was already back to fixing his appearance in the mirror. Cleaning off any trace of you.

Your skin felt hot as you left the bathroom, eyes wide and fixed on some point down the hall while you walked to class. Friday at the quarry didn’t feel real, but this was even more unbelievable.

It wasn’t rare for Steve to have random girls on his arm, or even have makeout sessions in the bathroom.

You’d heard about the notes he leaves in the lockers of the cheerleaders like Kenzie. But it was rare for Steve to kiss with feeling.

You felt like you were dissociating for the rest of the school day, constantly out of body as you moved on autopilot. Mentally, you were still in that bathroom with your hands on Steve Harrington as his lips pressed to your skin.

Every-time a door opened, your heart would leap in your chest in hopes that it would be him, but Steve was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the school day.

You walked home alone, the same peaceful path you always take through the lawns and quiet houses, but today every thought you had just circled right back to Steve’s lips on yours in the bathroom. Every feeling you felt was so confusing.

There was giddiness, confusion, and a deep underlining of wanting. He told you he remembered every second, but he also told you to not wait by the phone.

Every second of the rest of the night felt like a special kind of torture. The phone on your nightstand seemed to mock you as you tried to do your homework or get ready for bed. Basketball practice was over hours ago. Would he call? He said not to wait, he told you not to wait. But what if he changed his mind? What if he decides to call?

You refused to change out of your sweater because his cologne continued to linger there. You refused to leave your room just in case the phone rang. Every action you made seemed to revolve around if Steve would, or if he wouldn’t.

Your mind raced through every word Steve said to you, replayed the interaction to see if you missed any signs, but everytime you ended with the same conclusion. He had kissed you, again. And he hadn’t called, again. But the memory of him was so sharp, too sharp.

You couldn’t get him out of your head, and it became frustrating in more ways than one. So your fingers moved, lightly tracing down your sweater until they were slipping under the waistband of your pants.

It was wrong. Your fingers weren’t as calloused as his, too soft, not rough enough. But you closed your eyes and tilted your head back. You thought of the way he looked at you with such hunger and possession in his eyes, and then the sudden vulnerability when he admitted that he remembered it all.

Your breath hitched as your thumb began to trace circles on your clit, mimicking the slow circles his thumb was tracing on your hip just hours ago. But lower, much lower.

It was weak, it was nothing compared to feeling wanted and filled by him, but it was enough for your stomach to flutter.

Your fingers moved downwards, tracing your entrance before you were plunging one finger inside, seeking the warmth that he always seemed to create inside of you. Your movements became urgent as you fantasized about him on top of you. His hair brushing against your forehead, his nose pressed against yours, his arms holding you tightly against his chest.

Your teeth were sinking into your lower lip, attempting to hold back the desperate sounds leaving your lips. The image of him was burning on your eyelids as you chased a release that felt so out of reach.

The second you orgasmed, the high dissolved into an emptiness. The confusion and longing were more present than ever now as you waited by a phone that wont ring. You felt foolish and desperate as your mind and body drifted to sleep.

Tuesday morning felt different when it arrived. You didn’t feel as hollow as the day before, the secret of the interaction in the bathroom was alive in your veins. You felt nervous, and curious. Would he do something similar again? Would today include another makeout session with Steve? You weren’t sure, but you were desperate to find out.

When you finally saw him at school, you felt your heart drop and stomach flip. He was standing with his usual friends, doing the same thing he always does, with his arm still around Ani.

You shouldn’t have been shocked, you shouldn’t have expected anything to be different between you and Steve. Everything would’ve seemed completely normal, but then Steve’s eyes slid over the hallway and landed on you. It was only a second, but you saw the way his body tensed up. You couldn’t help but notice the way his laugh sounded strained now as you walked past him to head towards your class. It was a game only the two of you were playing, and you had no idea what the rules were.

The day unfolded in stolen glances across classrooms and hallways, and each time Steve looked at you, the hope in your chest flared a little brighter.

At lunch, Ale seemed to notice first. Every few minutes Steve’s eyes would land on the back of your head before he would look back down before anyone could think anything of it.

She nudged your shoulder with her own “Maybe you should just talk to him? He’s been staring.”

You shook your head “You’re kidding, right? He’s not staring.” You knew you couldn’t talk with him. You didn’t know the rules of the game, but you knew not talking to him in public was certainly on the list.

Ale sighed softly “If you say so.”

“Steve stares at everyone, Ale. He just can’t help it. It’s in his genetics to be a man-whore.” María piped in briefly with a laugh to dismiss the idea.

The comment made you feel relieved that they weren’t pressing the topic further, but it came with a pang of insecurity. Did Steve actually stare at everyone? To the point where even your own friends wouldn’t think he was looking at you? Your brain was exhausted from the amount of confusing emotions you’d been having.

After school you were gathering your things from your locker when you saw him out of the small mirror on your locker door, he was coming down the hallway with Tommy. He wasn’t looking at you, but as he passed his shoulder briefly brushed yours.

It’s a touch you’ve seen a thousand times before, a touch you’ve even felt before, but this time his hand left his jacket pocket and he let his fingers graze your arm. A secret touch in a crowded hallway, and then he was gone.

The touch was small, barely anything, most people wouldn’t think twice about it again. But it was enough for you, enough to keep you on his hook as you walked home with the same hope that maybe tonight he would call.

He was obviously ignoring you, but he was watching you. Marking his territory on you in the quietest way he could. In some part of you, the secret was the thrill.

He didn’t call, but the hope inside of you didn’t fade. He looked. He touched. He kissed you. And that had to mean something.

A week went by of similar touches and silent tension. The moments were so small and fleeting that they were invisible to everybody else, but to you it was everything. Each day that went by was a delicate dance that was completely choreographed by Steve’s unpredictable attention.

On Wednesday, you were heading to the library, arms full of books as you turned a corner and collided with him. For a few seconds you were both completely frozen before his eyes dropped to your lips and you heard a barely audible groan leave his mouth before he sidestepped you and continued down the hallway faster than he was walking before.

Thursday before homeroom you were getting a drink from the water fountain. You could feel him and smell him behind you before you could see him, the signature trace of his cologne taking over every sense. Steve’s arm reached around you to press down on the button, his arm brushing against your side. He didn’t say anything, just held the button down as you continued to drink.

You straighted up and looked up at him through your lashes, water droplets clinging to your lips. Steve’s eyes were locked on your mouth, his head tilted down towards you. The proximity of him was dizzying, your eyes could trace the faint stubble that lined on his jaw.

“You’ve got a little…” Steve’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

He raised his hand to bring his thumb up, brushing the water droplet off your bottom lip. The contact after days without feeling the warmth of him made your breath catch. His thumb lingered, pressing slightly harder into your lip as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips over and over again.

Neither of you said anything else as he pulled away and walked quickly down the hall, leaving you frozen at the fountain.

On Friday after school you were heading to your locker, but he was already there, leaning against a locker a few doors down from yours. He was staring down the hallway, as if he was waiting on someone else. You heard him speak without turning his head as soon as you started passing by.

“Don’t make any plans Saturday night.”

It was a command, but it felt like a key unlocking a door that you’d been standing outside and knocking on for days, and you were running inside.

Saturday came around slowly. You weren’t sure what you were doing with Steve, or when, so you got ready bright and early just in case, putting extra care and detail into every choice. Then you waited, and waited.

Evening fell as you stayed up in your room, waiting for the sound of his bmw, but it never came.

Today was also the day that Steve had bragged about throwing a party on just earlier that week in the hallway. The party he didn’t invite you to. You tried not to think about who could possibly be there with him.

The hours stretched. Passing ten and even eleven, then midnight. The hope and excitement that was alive in your chest now felt like a physical weight of disappointment that made your shoulders slump. You felt foolish sitting by your window in the dark.

It felt humiliating, so you got ready for bed and tried to push it away entirely.

Sleep wasn’t coming easy though, you tossed and turned in your bed for what felt like hours until you heard the knocking. The noise was small, but you heard it.

You turned your head to face your window and saw Steve perched on the windowsill, knocking lightly.

“You awake? Open up.” Steve said in a loud whisper, continuing to tap on the glass.

You got out of bed and moved to open the window. You could see him clearer now, and smell the lingering trace of alcohol on his breath. His eyes were heavy lidded, and his body looked sluggish.

“Come on. Let me in.” He glanced over his shoulder out at the dark street, a paranoid look.

“It’s too late, Steve.” You said quietly, it was hard to hide the hurt and disappointment.

“Too late? I’ve been thinking about you all night. Five minutes. Please? I just wanted to see you” A lazy grin was on Steve’s face almost immediately, full of a charm he knew exactly how to use. His eyes widened and sparkled in the moonlight.

He was lying, and you both knew it. But the way he spoke to you with that charm made you hesitate on telling him to leave. He was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world, like he didn’t just spend the entire night at a party without you.

“My parents are asleep, Steve. It’s really late.” You whispered nervously, glancing back into your room.

“We’ll be real quiet. Im stealthy, like a ninja.” His grin widened, and you gave in immediately. The pull of him was too strong when he was looking up at you with such soft sleepy eyes.

“Five minutes. That’s it.” And you opened the window.

His hands gripped on the window as he hoisted himself into your room. He took a step closer to you immediately once he was inside.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you. That party was fucking boring.” His hand reached out to stroke your cheekbone once, letting his fingers linger there.

“Five.. only five minutes, right?” You asked nervously, but your body was already melting under his touch.

“Mhm. That’s right.” Steve dipped his head, his lips hovering right above yours as he breathed you in. The smell of beer was undeniable this close up.

His mouth closed over yours almost immediately, his hand sliding into your hair and gripping at it to angle your head back. His other hand came up to rest on your hip as he began walking you backwards towards your bed.

“Told you… couldn’t.. stop.. thinking about you” He muttered against your lips in between kisses. The confidence in the way he kissed combined with his hands on you was making you dizzy, head spinning as your body went pliant and allowing him to walk you back towards your bed.

The second the back of your knees hit the mattress, Steve pulled back to look down at you.

“Lie down” It was an instruction, a command. His hands went to your shoulders to slightly apply pressure, guiding your body down onto the mattress.

Steve followed you down, bracing his body on his elbows as he caged you in beneath him. Your fingers began to thread through the hair that curled slightly on the nape of his neck, dragging your nails lightly on his skin.

He kissed you again, but this time it was slower. Your lips moving together in a conversation that only the two of you understood. He sat up quickly, pulling his polo over his head, then immediately met your lips again with his own.

Your hands immediately went back to his chest, remembering what it felt like to run your hands in the chest hair that rested there. Steve sucked in your top lip, causing you to tighten your hands on his chest.

A small whimper left his mouth as you pulled at the hair lightly, he kissed deeper and furrowed his brows together, attempting to silence the needy noises he was making.

“Fuck. You’re so…. fuck.” He sat up again to pull the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders and pushing the gown further to bunch up at your waist.

His head lowered instantly, the warmth of his lips meeting the warm skin of your breast, his tongue working over your nipple until it was hardening in his mouth. His other hand was everywhere, kneading at your other tit, and sliding down your stomach to push the nightgown down entirely until you were in nothing but your panties. He gripped at the flesh of your thighs to spread your legs further for him to grind against your core before he kicked off his shoes, his hand leaving your body to quickly work at the button on his jeans.

Your hands were running through his hair, going down his back and pulling at the skin.

The second he got his jeans and boxers down he shifted his body and lifted his head.

“Tell me. Tell me you want me.” Steve whispered into the quiet room as his head moved to find your mouth, biting gently at your bottom lip. It wasn’t as harsh as his usual demands, something about the look in his eyes was vulnerable in a way you’d never expected from someone who got everything he wanted so easily. He wasn’t asking you to tell him you wanted him to stroke his ego, he was asking you to tell him so he could be assured that did you want him.

“I do want you. I want you, Steve.” You said it as earnest as possible, continuing to run your fingers in his hair.

“Mmm. Good girl.”

His fingers slid down your body, starting at the column of your throat then moving down in between your breasts until he was tracing your bellybutton and hip bone. It was teasing, and it sent chills down your spine.

His fingers dipped lower, past the lace of your panties as he pulled them down, then parted your folds with two thick fingers, getting coated in the wet heat that had been gathering from the touch of him.

His other hand wrapped around his cock, stroking gently to smear the pre-cum all over his length. He began pushing into your pussy slowly, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you open around his cock.

Your eyes rolled back, jaw dropping as you moaned from the feeling of being filled by him again.

Steve continued moving until every inch of him was buried deep inside of you, then his hands came up to press down on your lower stomach, steadying himself there as he began thrusting in and out.

The rythym was slow, and deep. Nothing like the first time. This time you could feel every inch of his cock dragging against your walls before only the tip was inside of you, then him diving back in again.

You arched your back up, turning your face into the pillow next to you to muffle every moan and whine leaving your lips.

Each whimper seemed to fuel Steve, his hands left your stomach so he could shift back down, kissing you desperately and panting against your mouth while his movements became more urgent, the sound of skin slapping together becoming louder.

Your mouth found the side of his neck, tongue tracing over the scattering of small dark moles that dot over his neck. You could feel Steve shudder above you, a sharp breath catching in his throat as your lips moved lower to kiss the moles above his collarbone.

“Mine. You’re… fucking mine..” He panted out

“Steve…. Ohh.. Steeeve…” Pleasure was taking over your body entirely, legs trembling underneath him as he pounded into you.

“Yeah? You like how my cock feels inside of you?” Steve groaned, his hands going back to grip at your thighs while he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder to drive even deeper inside of your stretched pussy.

Steve’s eyes were locked on where your bodies joined, where his cock was sinking inside you over and over again.

“Look at you. Taking me so deep. God, you’re beautiful.” His fingers moved to your clit, rubbing rough and tight circles as he watched you tremble underneath him.

“Want you to squeeze me while im buried deep in this sweet pussy. Yeah? Can you do that for me, princess?”

You nodded eagerly, panting into the air as your hands gripped at his arms and your body twitched uncontrollably. Your pussy was clenching down on him, pulling him even deeper as pleasure radiated out of you.

Steve bit down on his lower lip to stifle a moan and began thrusting frantically, fucking into you so deep that your entire body was jolting back and forth on the mattress.

“Taking my fucking cock so good, baby. Such a good girl, huh? Drives me crazy when you’re such a slut for me.”

“Only you. Only you, Steve.” You whined out as he shuddered above you, his cum filling your insides as your walls milked him dry.

He stayed inside of you for a long minute, his head tilting back as he caught his breath before he let out a soft sigh and pulled out of you, collapsing down onto the mattress beside you.

His arm was thrown over his eyes, chest still rising and falling rapidly. You turned on your side, letting your eyes roam over the sheen of sweat on his chest and the relaxed way he looked when he was all pliant. You wanted to frame it. Steve Harrington in your bed, laying next to you.

“You’ll.. you’ll stay?” The question was vulnerable as you looked up at him.

Steve let out a long slow breath, his arm not leaving his face. “It’s late.”

It wasn’t an answer, it was a deflection.

“Please?” You reached over to trail your fingers across his chest lightly and he finally lowered his arm from his face.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll stay.” He said it like he was doing you a favor as he rolled onto his side, pulling the sheets up and grabbing his boxers and your nightgown from the side of the bed to slip them back on.

Once you were both decently dressed, he slung his arm over your waist, resting his hand low on your back to pull you closer into his chest.

“Just.. go to sleep.” He muttered into your hair, voice slurring slightly as his lips pressed gently to your hairline.

You nuzzled in closer, smiling to yourself as your body drifted off to sleep being held by Steve Harrington.

You woke hours later, turning over and opening your eyes to find the bed beside you empty and cold. You laid there for awhile, staring at the spot he had occupied. Lifting your hand to run over the cool pillowcase that he rested his head on just hours ago.

You wanted more, you wanted everything. But wanting more from Steve Harrington felt like asking the sun not to set. It was a part of his nature. The leaving was as much a part of him as the charming smile and the possessive hands. The worst part was you know you'll be waiting by the window again next Saturday, desperate to feel that way again. Even if it’s just for a few hours, even if he always leaves.

-

masterlist | taglist | rec acc | series masterlist

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‪taglist: @fersitay @okcoolsthings @djoaholic @luvxmoony @swirledyouintoallmypoems @gutsnhugs @alwysnanglnvragod @redvelvetcupcke1 @kurtsw7rld96 @mimi-ro @nowprettybbyimrunning @moonstoneandmoonlight @keeryonfilm @bathandbylerworks @harrystyleseagletattoo @harringtondarling @xoxocelestial @spideyzzn @licetchl @ghostlyriddles @heldbycas @mikefaistwife @jene11 @purplequeen64-stuff @rustyguitars @xbethanyx @alltoomay @rafecqmeronslove @mirellef2001 @cristy-l-blog @beelzebzb @shstandsforsteveharrington @lilyhours @gallysonegoodlung @pookiebear69004 @ilikereadinghardcoresmut @fantasyreader130 @witchymel04 @taytayreese @cuddlyeren @swaggyvlad @tapedbunnies @strangegirl26sff @whispersoflost @cristy-l-blog @ophirei @inthesoftstillnessofthemoment @adorauraa @gaylittleboi69 @pumpkinleavess @reagans14 @tiredpurpleee @trackgun

a/n: chapter two will be out soon <3 comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this series!

[djostarkclub]

Stream Interrupted

Pairing: Kurt Kunkle x F!Reader

Summary: Kurt only wanted to stream for a few hours. Unfortunately, his girlfriend is in his room, he's wearing the purple shirt she bought him, and forty two viewers end up witnessing the quickest collapse of a man's composure ever recorded.

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI! , smut, established relationship, streamer Kurt Kunkle, stream chat commentary, no penetrative sex, lap sitting, dry humping, teasing, dirty talk, praise, needy Kurt, grinding, clothed sexual content, kinda public intimacy, sensitive/subby Kurt, embarrassment, overstimulation, excessive fluff.

A/N: This fic exists because I am deeply unwell about Kurt Kunkle. I adore his weird little mannerisms, his awkwardness, the way he tries so hard to seem cool and immediately folds the second someone gives him attention. He's my favorite strange little guy. Also, special thanks to that picture of Kurt in the purple shirt because it dragged me across the finish line. I saw it and suddenly became possessed by the need to write several thousand words about him malfunctioning. Sometimes inspiration comes from great art. Sometimes it comes from Kurt Kunkle looking unfairly pretty in a purple shirt.💜

Kurt’s room was warmer than you expected, cluttered in a way that made it obvious he spent most of his life there, you guys had started dating a few weeks ago so that was actually your first time there.

Camera equipment crowded the desk beside empty energy drink cans, LED lights washing everything in soft blue and pink while his stream played live on the monitor in front of him.

“Alright chat” Kurt said, adjusting the headset over his hair “tonight we’re just hanging out”

You watched from his bed, trying not to smile at how seriously he took it all. There was something endearing about the way he concentrated, completely unaware of the effect he was having on you.

And god, that shirt, that goddamn shirt.

You'd created your own problem, really. Nobody had forced you to buy it. Nobody had forced you to hand it to him and tell him he'd look good in purple. And yet here you were, suffering the consequences of your own actions.

The soft purple fabric brought out the warmth in his brown eyes, making them look even richer whenever he glanced up. It somehow softened his features too, highlighting the gentle curve of his smile and the quiet prettiness of his face in a way that felt almost unfair. You'd bought the shirt because you thought it would suit him, but seeing him wear it now was another thing entirely.

He looked beautiful, so beautiful.

Beautiful enough that you kept finding your gaze drifting back to him, your stomach fluttering every time he pushed a hand through his hair or furrowed his brow in concentration. The sight of him in that shirt was doing dangerous things to your thoughts, making it harder and harder to focus on anything except how badly you wanted to reach out and pull him closer.

He kept glancing at the viewer count every few seconds while nervously rambling about some creator drama you weren't really paying attention to. His words blended together into background noise as you watched him instead, trying, and failing, not to get distracted by how unfairly good he looked.

Completely oblivious, Kurt continued talking a mile a minute, hands moving animatedly as he explained every detail. He always got like this when he was excited. The more enthusiastic he became, the more he talked, bouncing from one thought to the next before he'd even finished the first.

Normally, you just found it cute.

Tonight, with him sitting there in that purple shirt and looking impossibly pleased with himself, it was downright dangerous.

The viewer count hovered around forty-two, higher than usual, and Kurt looked ridiculously proud of it. A small smile tugged at his lips every time the number held steady, his brown eyes lighting up with quiet excitement. It was such a simple thing, but the sight of him being so genuinely happy made your cunt ache in the worst possible way.

Chat moved quickly down the side of the monitor.

camera_kid94: weird setup

m0thmilk: KURT FACE CAM EATING TODAY???

cigarettesandfilm: why is there a tripod on your bed

sadcamcorder: room tour when ?

vhsghost: bro clean your room

Kurt rolled his eyes “My room is literally fine"

It wasn’t. You snorted softly from behind him.

His head turned immediately at the sound, attention snapping toward you so fast it almost made you laugh and the chat noticed instantly.

expiredenergydrink: WHO WAS THAT

burnttoast.mp4: KURT GOT COMPANY???

vhsghost: HELLO???

fourthwallbreaker: WAIT GO BACK

nightdrive89: did anyone else see that?

His ears turned pink.

“Nobody freaking out” he muttered quickly “That’s my girlfriend, she’s just hanging out"

You stood from the bed slowly, crossing the room while Kurt kept trying to talk to chat like nothing was happening. It was almost cute how hard he was trying.

“What are you so nervous about?” you asked, stopping beside him.

Kurt glanced at you for half a second before looking right back at the monitor.

“Nothing”

“Uhum”

Before he could say anything else, you slid onto his lap and Kurt stopped breathing.

The stream kept running in the background while his entire body went rigid beneath you, hands hovering awkwardly at your waist like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you.

Chat exploded instantly.

ghostingirl: CONNECTION LOST BRO

ratboy2001: bruh forgot he was live

expiredenergydrink: she sat down and this man entered survival mode

fourthwallbreaker: somebody unplug him and plug him back in please

He stared at you wide eyed.

“You can keep talking” you said innocently.

Kurt let out a shaky laugh that sounded borderline painful.

“Yeah” he muttered “Cool. Right. Totally.”

His hands finally settled carefully against your hips, tentative enough to make your stomach flip a little.

The chat moved so fast it blurred now.

parkinglotghost: THE NERVOUS LAUGH

expiredenergydrink: he needs a factory reset

camera_kid94: bro is sweating through the purple shirt

crowsandcigarettes: kurt's brain just opened 37 tabs at once

“Okay, you guys are overreacting” Kurt said, voice noticeably tighter than before.

You bit back a smile because he really was sweating a little.

“You nervous?” you whispered near his ear.

His grip tightened instantly.

“No” he lied terribly.

You shifted slightly in his lap and Kurt nearly choked on his own breath.

And the chat immediately noticed again.

ghostingirl: WHAT JUST HAPPENED

filmroll_freak: KURT HELLO???

ratboy2001: WE LOST VISUAL CONTACT

nightdrive89: somebody check his pulse

He dragged a hand down his face quickly, trying to recover.

“Sorry” he muttered hoarsely “I got distracted by a second”

“You did?” you asked sweetly.

Kurt shot you a warning look that completely lost its effect when his face flushed even darker.

“You’re evil” he whispered under his breath.

And despite the accusation, his hands pulled you a little closer anyway.

Chat was absolutely losing their minds now.

m0thmilk: THIS IS BETTER THAN NETFLIX

ratboy2001: i've seen wild animals calmer than this

frogboy.jpg: current stream objective: survive

ghostingirl: objective failed

Kurt tried to keep talking to them, really he did, but every time you moved even slightly against him his words stumbled apart.

“Chat, I swear to god, I’m fine” he insisted weakly.

You leaned closer, lips brushing near his jaw.

“Are you?”

His entire body tensed beneath you.

For one dangerous second, Kurt completely forgot he was live.

His forehead dropped against your shoulder with a quiet, overwhelmed sound, fingers digging into your waist hard enough to leave marks and the second he realized what he’d just done, his eyes widened in horror.

The chat absolutely exploded making Kurt stared at the monitor, then at you and then back at chat moving at impossible speed.

And finally, with the most flustered expression you’d ever seen on him, he slammed a hand over the camera.

The stream cut to black instantly. But the microphone stayed on.

“Look what you did” he whispered breathlessly.

The monitor glowed softly in the darkened room, chat messages still racing across the screen even after the camera cut out.

Kurt’s hand stayed clamped over the lens like he thought the stream might somehow turn itself back on if he let go too soon.

Meanwhile his other hand remained tight against your waist, very tight.

“You’re insane” he said breathlessly against your shoulder.

You laughed quietly “You’re the one streaming”

“I was trying to”

The emphasis made you grin.

Kurt finally leaned back enough to look at you properly, hair messy from where he’d dragged his fingers through them earlier. His face was still pink all the way to the tips of his ears, eyes blown wide in that overwhelmed way you were starting to realize happened whenever he didn’t know what to do with you, which was often.

On the monitor, chat continued absolutely losing their minds.

burnttoast.mp4: MIC STILL ON???

m0thmilk: KURT PLEASE

frogboy.jpg: don't save him this is too entertaining

ghostingirl: the audience has been unsupervised for 8 minutes

filmroll_freak: we're basically running the stream now

His eyes flicked toward the screen in horror.

“Oh my god”

You burst out laughing as he lunged for the keyboard, muting the stream so aggressively he nearly knocked over his mouse in the process.

“There" he said finally, exhaling hard “Okay. Jesus Christ”

“You’re so dramatic”

“You climbed into my lap in front of forty people"

“Forty two” you corrected.

His thumb brushed absently against your waist.

“You were teasing me on purpose” he murmured.

“Maybe”

“You’re mean”

But he sounded almost dazed saying it.

You shifted slightly again and Kurt’s grip tightened immediately, a quiet breath catching in his throat before he could stop it.

There it was again. That reaction.

That complete inability to hide anything from you.

The realization clearly embarrassed him because he immediately buried his face against your neck with a groan.

“Don’t laugh” he mumbled.

“I’m not laughing"

“You’re smiling”

“Well…” You played with the curls near the nape of his neck “You make it really easy.”

Kurt let out another muffled sound against your skin, somewhere between frustration and affection. His arms slid more securely around your waist then, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you at all.

Kurt stayed buried against your neck for another few seconds, breathing unevenly like he was trying to pull himself back together.

It wasn’t working.

You could feel it in the way his fingers kept flexing restlessly against your waist, in the quiet little exhales he let out every time you touched him.

He was trying so hard to stay composed, which honestly just made it worse.

“You’re really quiet” you teased softly.

“Because if I talk right now” he mumbled against your skin “I’m gonna sound pathetic.”

That immediately made you smile.

“Oh?” Your fingers slipped into his hair again, scratching lightly at his scalp “And what exactly would sound pathetic, Kurt?”

A shiver ran through him so obvious it almost startled you.

His grip tightened.

“See?” he muttered weakly “You do shit like that on purpose.”

“Maybe I like seeing you all worked up.”

Kurt actually whimpered a little at that, a tiny sound, barely audible.

But the second he realized you heard it, he hid his face deeper into your shoulder in obvious embarrassment.

“Oh my god” he groaned “Don’t look at me”

You tilted his chin up gently until he finally looked at you, his expression completely gave him away. Eyes glassy, cheeks flushed, mouth slightly parted like he couldn’t quite catch his breath properly.

Completely overwhelmed and still looking at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re needy tonight” you whispered.

Kurt made the softest, most miserable sound you’d ever heard.

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing”

“It’s not, I love my man all needy and whinny” You said gridding your cunt slowly against his erection, resulting in him chocking on his breath again.

He leaned into your touch immediately when your hand brushed his face, eyes fluttering shut for half a second before reopening to look at you with something dangerously close to devotion.

“You make me insane” he admitted quietly.

You shifted in his lap again, pressing yourself more firmly against the very noticeable hardness beneath you, and Kurt let out another pathetic little whine before he could stop himself.

“Jesus Christ” he whispered hoarsely.

You could practically feel how overwhelmed he was now, every little movement making him tense beneath you like he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

“Kurt” you teased softly, brushing your lips near his ear “you’re so sensitive”

He let out another embarrassed whine at that, the sound muffled against your neck as he shook his head weakly.

“Don’t…” he started, voice cracking slightly before he tried again “Don’t say stuff like that”

“Why not?” you asked innocently, moving against him once more just to watch him fall apart again.

Kurt actually trembled beneath you.

“Oh my god” he breathed, sounding genuinely distressed now “You’re gonna kill me”

You tilted his face up enough to look at him properly, and the sight nearly made you laugh again, pupils blown wide while he stared at you like you were the only thing keeping his brain functioning right now.

Completely ruined. All because you decided to sit in his lap for a few minutes.

“You’re adorable like this” you murmured.

Kurt made the softest, most frustrated sound imaginable.

“Tell me what you want me to do with you, Kurt” you whispered softly, fingers brushing through the hair at the back of his neck “Be a good boy and tell me”

The effect those words had on him was almost unfair.

Kurt let out a shaky breath that sounded dangerously close to another whimper, eyes fluttering shut for a second as his grip on your waist tightened hard enough to ache.

“You can’t just say stuff like that” he mumbled weakly.

“But I did”

He looked completely wrecked.

Face flushed bright red, breathing uneven, staring at you with that same helpless intensity he always got whenever you gave him too much attention at once. Like he genuinely didn’t know how to handle being wanted.

You tilted your head slightly “C’mon, Kurt, tell me”

His throat bobbed nervously.

“I just…” He hesitated, visibly embarrassed “I want you to keep sitting like this”

The honesty in his voice made your stomach flip.

“And?”

“And…” Kurt broke off immediately when you shifted against him again, a quiet sound escaping him before he could stop it “Fuck…”

You smiled a little at how easily he unraveled for you.

“So needy, my pretty boy”

“You make me needy” he corrected instantly, almost defensive about it. Then quieter “Only you”

Something about the confession seemed to embarrass him the second it left his mouth because he hid his face against your shoulder again with a groan.

“You really need to stop looking at me right now” he muttered miserably.

“Why?”

“Because I’m trying really hard not to come all over my pants"

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss against his temple.

Kurt practically shuddered at the sound of your laughter, fingers digging into your waist while he buried his burning face deeper against your neck.

“Don´t make fun of me” he mumbled again, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

“I’m not making fun of you” you whispered, still smiling a little “You’re just really cute like this”

That only made him whine softly under his breath.

You pulled back just enough to look at him again, brushing your thumb gently across his flushed cheek. His eyes followed every movement immediately, dark and completely fixated on you now.

Attention always hit him too hard. Affection hit even harder.

“You want me to stop?” you asked softly.

Kurt answered so fast it was almost pathetic.

“No, please don’t”

The honesty of it made your chest tighten.

“No?” you repeated teasingly.

He shook his head immediately, hair falling into his eyes. “Please don’t”

There it was again.

That needy little desperation underneath everything he said to you, like he wanted your attention so badly it physically hurt him.

You kissed him then, slow at first, almost sweet and Kurt melted instantly.

A quiet sound escaped him as he kissed you back with embarrassing amounts of enthusiasm, one hand sliding up your back like he needed to keep you as close as possible.

He kissed like he got attached to people too quickly, like every bit of affection meant more to him than it should.

By the time you pulled back, Kurt looked genuinely dazed.

Forehead resting against yours, breathing uneven, eyes half lidded while he stared at you like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Judging by the way his hands still trembled slightly against you, he was only getting more overwhelmed the longer you stayed in his lap.

You smiled a little before shifting in his lap again, slow enough to make his breath hitch sharply.

“Oh my god” he whispered.

His head dropped back against the chair with a quiet thud, eyes squeezing shut while his grip on your hips tightened almost desperately.

You could tell he was trying not to move too much beneath you, trying to be good, trying to hold himself together despite the way his breathing kept turning uneven every time you pressed against him.

But the second you rolled your hips again, the restraint snapped a little.

A shaky sound escaped him as his hands instinctively guided your movements, helping you move against him before he even realized what he was doing.

“Kurt” you murmured, amused.

His eyes widened slightly in embarrassment.

“Sorry” he said immediately “Sorry, I just…”

“You just what?”

He looked away for a second, visibly flustered.

Then quieter: “It feels really good”

The confession hit harder than it should have. Because he said it so sincerely.

Like he trusted you with every reaction, every sound, every embarrassing little admission falling from his mouth.

You kissed him again before he could overthink himself into apologizing.

Kurt melted instantly, kissing you back harder this time while his fingers dug into your waist with a soft groan.

The friction between you made him shiver beneath you again, completely unable to hide how affected he was now.

Kurt was losing whatever composure he had left.

Every slow movement against him pulled another helpless sound from his throat, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you were sure there would be marks later. He looked completely overwhelmed, messy curls sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and unfocused every time you rolled against him.

“You’re not even trying to be nice to me anymore” he whispered shakily.

You smiled against his mouth “You don’t want me to stop”

“No” he admitted immediately.

Kurt kissed you again, messy and desperate, like he couldn’t get enough no matter how close you already were. Every little sound you made seemed to affect him ten times harder, pulling quiet whines and broken breaths from him that he clearly wasn’t used to letting anyone hear.

“You feel so good, fuck” he mumbled against your lips, sounding embarrassed even while saying it.

You could tell he was getting close long before he actually admitted it.

His movements became less coordinated, breaths catching every few seconds while he clung to you like he needed the contact to stay sane.

“Wait…” he whispered suddenly, voice strained “Fuck wait… oh my god I…”

The rest of the sentence dissolved into a shaky sound as he buried his face against your shoulder again, holding you impossibly close while his entire body tensed beneath you, coming in his pants with a broken sound of your name.

For a second afterward he just stayed there, breathing hard, clearly overwhelmed by how intense everything felt.

And the moment he realized you hadn’t stopped moving against him, he let out the most wrecked little noise yet.

“Oh my god” he breathed weakly “Please…”

You laughed softly, kissing his flushed cheek while continuing to move against him slowly, just enough to make him squirm beneath you.

“Kurt” you teased gently “it’s okay, you can take it”

You smiled softly before rolling your hips against him again, slower this time, savoring the way his breath immediately caught and the pleasant pressure against your clit with every movement.

“Kurt” you whispered, brushing your lips near his ear “look at me”

He shook his head instinctively.

“No, no, god I can’t”

“You can”

Reluctantly, he lifted his head and the sight nearly ruined you.

His face was completely ruined, hair messy from your hands tugging through them earlier, lips parted while he tried and failed to steady his breathing. He looked utterly wrecked, eyes glassy and unfocused every time you moved against him.

Every little shift pulled another quiet sound from him, his fingers twitching helplessly at your waist as you kept grinding against him steadily.

“You’re still going” he whispered almost accusingly.

“You want me to stop?”

Kurt answered immediately.

“No”

The desperation in his voice made your stomach twist pleasantly.

He kissed you again before you could tease him for it, messy and clingy, like he needed the distraction from how overwhelmed he still felt. But every time you pressed against him a little harder, the kiss kept breaking apart with shaky breaths and soft whines he clearly couldn’t control anymore.

“You’re so mean to me” he mumbled against your mouth.

And yet his hands kept guiding your hips, helping you move against him despite how obviously overstimulated he already was, all the cum on his pants and the wetness in your panties making it easier to grind against him.

You could feel yourself getting closer now too, your movements losing rhythm slightly every time Kurt made another broken sound beneath you.

He noticed immediately.

“You’re close?” he whispered, eyes widening slightly.

The realization seemed to affect him all over again.

His grip tightened hard enough to make you gasp softly, and the sound nearly finished him a second time judging by the way he trembled beneath you afterward.

“Oh my god” he breathed shakily.“Don’t make sounds like that”

You laughed weakly, forehead dropping against his while you kept moving against him faster now, chasing the growing warmth twisting low in your stomach.

Kurt looked completely overwhelmed by the sight of you. Like the fact you wanted him this much genuinely short-circuited his brain.

“You’re so pretty” he whispered suddenly, voice full of awe like he couldn’t hold the thought in anymore.

The sincerity of it pushed you over the edge.

Your movements stuttered as you clung to him tightly, breath catching while Kurt immediately wrapped his arms around you more securely, whispering your name like he was just as overwhelmed by your reaction as everything else tonight and you came so hard that you really thought for a second you were about to faint.

Kurt buried his burning face against your shoulder again with a weak laugh.

“We should do this again” he mumbled weakly, still hiding his face against your shoulder “Maybe without the clothes next time”

Instead of laughing afterward, you stayed close, still breathing unevenly while Kurt clung to you like he physically couldn’t let go.

His forehead rested against your shoulder, curls tickling your neck while he tried to steady himself.

It wasn’t working.

Every tiny movement still made him twitch beneath you, quiet little breaths catching in his throat whenever your hips shifted even slightly against his.

“Kurt” you whispered softly.

A weak sound answered you immediately.

You tilted his chin up carefully until he looked at you again, and the expression on his face almost ruined you all over again the most pretty puppy face you ever saw. Like he’d let you do absolutely anything to him if you asked.

“You did so good for me” you whispered.

Kurt’s eyes fluttered shut instantly at the praise, another helpless sound slipping from him before he could stop it.

You kissed him softly after that, slower this time, letting him melt into it while his hands slid up your back clingily. Kurt kissed you like he was still overwhelmed by the fact you wanted him at all, every touch full of nervous affection and desperate attention.

When you finally pulled back, he just looked at you for a second.

Completely dazed.

Then quieter than before:

“You’re staying tonight, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere” you whispered to him.

He smiled at you, visibly satisfied with the answer “Good”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed watching Kurt completely lose all motor functions over a pretty girl. Writing this was amazing, and honestly, I love this weird little man far more than is probably healthy. If you enjoyed the fic, please leave a like, reblog, comment, or share it! Reader feedback is basically the writer equivalent of being handed a little treat, and I appreciate every single one.

[stvswrld69]

­ meetify algorithm

pairing: keys mckey x reader summary: keys creates an experimental dating app based on user compatibility to try to get a promotion at work. to make sure it works properly, he asks users to test it before its release. you download the beta out of curiosity, and the system matches you with the creator himself. wc: 3.3k warnings: +18 (minors do not interact), explicit nsfw, fem!reader, enemies (even if they don't know), mention of alcohol, explicit sexting, guided masturbation, m jerking off, fingering, penetration, use of sexual toys, dirty talk, cursing. author's note: thanks in this one to my girl nic for the help and also juls and juana for the motivation. also i'm starting with requests as soon as i finish my finals so pls be patient

keys sat over his desk on the floor of soonami studios. the blue glow of his multiple monitors reflected off his glasses and the office hummed with the usual boring energy; keyboards clacking, whispers and some laughs from the break room. but keys barely noticed any of it. 

his eyes were glued to the same block of code he’d been debugging for the last hour while his leg bounced anxiously under the desk.

he was tired. not just physically –though the dark circles under his eyes told that story clearly– but existentially tired.

keys had been working at soonami studios for some years now, and he was good at this job. really good. he could debug complex systems faster than most others developers and he actually cared about clean codes.

none of that seemed to matter. every time another developer position opened up, it went to someone better at office politics, someone who knew how to shake the right hands and smile in the right meetings.

keys was the guy who stayed late fixing other people’s mistakes. the guy who got praised in private but overlooked in promotions. the guy who was reliable.

he was sick of it.

that morning meeting was the final straw. the manager stood at the front of the room with his usually fake enthusiasm and talked.

‘’we’re looking for something original. something fresh. we want innovation. whoever brings me a truly unique project that actually works…. let’s just say there will be serious conversations about promotions.’’

key’s heart started racing the second he heard those words. this was it. his chance. 

he didn’t just want a promotion – he needed one.

so he made a decision, and for the next two and a half weeks, keys barely existed outside of work and his laptop. he woke up at 6 a.m., worked fully day at the office, then went home and coded until 3 or 4 in the morning. 

he ate microwave meals at his desk and drank enough coffee to make his hands shake. he told his friends he was ‘’busy with a side project.’’

he poured everything into meetify.

it wasn’t just another dating app. keys hated the shallow nature of modern dating apps: endless swiping, the focus on pictures and one-liners. he wanted something deeper. so he built a system that analyzed hundreds of data points: communication style, values, conflict resolutions patterns. 

the algorithm didn’t just match interests. it tried to predict long-term compatibility with uncanny accuracy.

he worked on the psychological questionnaire for days, making the questions strangely personal but not invasive. he fine-tuned the matching engine until the compatibility scores felt natural. 

he added privacy features that made the whole thing feel safe: no photos unless both users agreed later and end-to-end encryption on all chats.

when he finally finished the working beta version, he leaned back in his office chair and stared at the screen for a long time. 

‘’please… just work,’’ he whispered.

the next day during his lunch break, he created a reddit account under a throwaway name and posted in several beta testing subreddits.

r/betatesters • 1h ago

need 50 serious testers for an experimental dating app (100% anonymous) hey everyone,  i’ve built an experimental dating app named meetify. instead of swipes and pictures, it uses deep behavioral analysis and psychological profiling to match people based on real compatibility.  everything is completely anonymous. i need real users to test the matching algorithm and give feedback before i pitch it internally for a promotion. first 50 people get immediate access. if you’re tired of shallow dating apps and want to try something different, dm me. serious testers only.

he hit the post button with nervous fingers and then refreshed the page obsessively for the next hour. by the end of the day, he had 47 messages. 

on another hand, you had sworn off dating for almost a year. after a series of painful relationships, you decided you were done putting yourself out there. the idea of opening up to someone new felt exhausting and terrifying. 

but one night, while scrolling through reddit to see if someone could help you with work, a post caught your eye.

a post written by a user called walternetius. it promised to be something different, and curiosity got the better of you. after everything you had been through, maybe an algorithm could do better than your own terrible judgment.

you downloaded the app and created your account with the user y/nlocked.

the questionnaire was long and surprisingly personal. you answered honestly, even the uncomfortable questions about past relationships, trust issues and what you really wanted from a partner. 

when you finished, the app paired you almost instantly. 

wmckynotes. your eyebrows rose at the high number of compatibility. you opened the chat.

wmckynotes: hey wmckynotes: so we’re both beta testers for this thing? nice to meet you, y/nlocked

you smiled a little at the polite greeting and typed back.

y/nlocked: hi. yeah, looks like it. that compatibility is crazy. did u answer the questions honestly?

wmckynotes: haha… i was brutally honest. that’s why probably most of my other matches were below 20% :/ wmckynotes: u are the first person who makes sense according to the algorithm. wmckynotes: btw, how are u finding the app so far?

you leaned back against your pillows, thinking how to answer.

y/nlocked: i mean, it’s… different. the questionnaire was really long and some questions made me stop and actually think, but the interface is calm i guess. i really wanted to try something different

wmckynotes: most dating apps just feel so shallow. 

y/nlocked: yeah. this one feels more…. intentional. but wbu, why did you join the beta? are you also tired of normal dating apps?

wmckynotes: honestly? i’m the developer of this app. i’ve been working on it for months as a side project. my company is very corporate and i wanted to show them something original. wmckynotes: i needed real users to test it. i didn’t want people to feel pressured so i created everything anonymous.

y/nlocked: wait… you’re like the creator? that’s so cool lol. so u testing your own app?

wmckynotes: yeah… pretty much hahah i’m nervous as hell actually. i want it to work, to help people find something good. don’t tell anyone though. i’m trying to stay anonymous too. 

y/nlocked: your secret is safe with me

keys chuckled softly in his apartment, running a hand through his messy hair. you smiled at the phone feeling a warmth in your chest.

wmckynotes: so… be honest with me. what do u think so far? any feedback? wmckynotes: i’m glad the algorithm matched us. even if this is just a test, it’s nice talking to someone who gets it and works at coding too.

you thought for a moment before replying. the conversation flowed naturally. you two talked about movies, music. he was funny, a little nerdy, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

y/nlocked: yeah… it really is :) good night wmckynotes

a month has passed since you first downloaded that app, and what started as a random experiment born out of boredom quietly became the best part of you every day. 

you were at your desk on nexus dynamics. the open office was loud, with ringing phones and sighs. you were on the same customer support ticket for almost forty minutes while a man was yelling in all caps about a billing error.

you rubbed your temples, feeling the familiar headache building behind your eyes. your phone vibrated on the desk, you glanced around quickly to make sure your supervisor wasn’t watching, then opened the app.

wmckynotes: survived another meeting. how’s your day going? please tell me it’s better than mine.

you smiled despite yourself and typed back quickly under the desk.

y/nlocked: well i’m being yelled at a customer rn and i need a coffee

wmckynotes: i would def teleport with a coffee if i could. black with one sugar, right?

y/nlocked: you remember. i’m impressed 

wmckynotes: i remember a lot of things about u

you bit your lip, feeling warmth spread through your face. 

across town, keys was sitting in his chair. he checked the beta dashboard obsessively for weeks. the app was working better than he ever expected – at least for you two.

keys ran a hand through his messy brown hair and bit his lip when your message appeared. the conversation continued in short bursts or during breaks. 

after that, the conversations become more and more frequent between you two. 

even so, work was killing you. today was one of those days where you had to apologize because you were busy and you couldn't talk to him.

your company, nexus dynamics, was forced to attend the same exclusive networking event as soonami studios. the rivalry between the two companies was known throughout the world. it was serious: years of stolen talent, leaked projects and public shade in interviews. 

the tension in the rooftop was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the employees from both side-eyed each other with barely hostility.

you were there representing your company, dressed in a sleek black dress and holding a glass of champagne you had no intention of drinking. you stood near the bar, trying to stay out of the way of the obvious corporate warfare happening around you.

the founder of the company who prepared all this suddenly appeared beside you with a bright smile.

‘’ah! perfect. come with me for a moment.’’ before you could even protest, he gently guided you across the room toward a small group of the other company.

“so… this is our brilliant guy, keys. one of our sharpest young talents.”

keys turned to you. for a split second, something flickered in his eyes but he masked it with a polite professional smile and extended his hand. 

“nice to meet you,” he said with a measured voice.

you shook his hand firmly, keeping your expression natural.

“likewise,” you replied in a polite tone.

“you two are some of the youngest and most promising people from your companies. i thought it would be interesting for you to talk. healthy competition breeds innovation, right?”

with that, the walked away, leaving you and keys standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. the air between you two was immediately tense. 

keys slipped his hands into his pockets.

‘’so….’’ he said with a carefully neutral voice. ‘’heard your team has been pushing up some aggressive updates lately.’’

you lifted your chin slightly, matching his energy.

‘’and i’ve heard yours has been copying quite a few of those ideas,’’ you replied. ‘’imitation is the sincerest from flattery, i suppose.’’

keys let out a short dry laugh, but there was no real humor in it. you narrowed your eyes.

‘’bold claim. though i’m not surprised. y’all always loved throwing accusations around.’’

keys studied you for a moment, giving you an intense glaze. 

‘’you seem… familiar somehow,’’ he said quietly. ‘’have we met before?’’

you shook your hand, keeping your voice cool.

‘’i don’t think so. i would remember you.’’ 

he gave a bitter smile, and the conversation remained polite on the surface but with subtle jabs. the night was long and boring. you couldn't wait to get home, talk to that app user, and have some fun.

the network finally ended and you arrived home a little after midnight. your heels gave you wounds, and you swore you just wanted to rest. the entire ride way home, your mind kept replaying the conversation with that guy with glasses.

there was something about him that felt extremely familiar and even if you didn’t know his name –the way he looked at you, the dry humor– that felt strangely familiar. you shook the thought away. 

when you finally stepped into the apartment, you kicked off your heels with a sigh of relief. you changed into an oversized t-shirt and stayed in your panties, washed your face and collapsed onto your bed with your phone.

meanwhile, across town, keys entered his apartment, loosened his tie, and dropped onto the couch. keys didn’t even wait, he opened meetify on his phone and saw you were online.

he smiled and started typing.

wmckynotes: hey. u still awake?? wmckynotes: just arrived home. long night… i met someone w your name. funny coincidence right??

y/nlocked: it’s a pretty common name. they are probably like thousands of girls with it

wmckynotes: yeah… but anyways talking to u feels so much better. wmckynotes: i was thinking about u all night

y/nlocked: oh??? and what were u thinking about?

wmckynotes: being honest… was wondering u were laying in bed like i am now. if you were thinking about me too

the tone shifted. subtly. slowly.

y/nlocked: maybe i was and maybe i still am

wmckynotes: yeah? what are u thinking about?

the room was starting to feel hot, your chest was starting to pound faster. you closed your legs to try and cool down the heat between them. 

wmckynotes: yeah? what are u thinking about rn???

y/nlocked: about how nice ur voice probably sounds in general and about ur looks

wmckynotes: only that way?

y/nlocked: do u want me to say more?

you playfully bit your lip, waiting for his response. you had no idea how far the conversation could veer.

wmckynotes: maybe i do

y/nlocked: where are u rn?

wmckynotes: well wmckynotes: i’m in my couch… why?

y/nlocked: maybe i was thinking about me and u in your couch

his answer was fast. he never left the chat.

wmckynotes: great wmckynotes: me too

y/nlocked: what are u exactly thinking about y/nlocked: let’s see if we are thinking the same

wmckynotes: i was thinking about you in my couch… what are u wearing?

you smiled at the question, biting your lip, and then looked at your body as if it weren't obvious what you were wearing. as if you didn't know, or as if you were looking for confirmation before telling him.

y/nlocked: shirt and panties

wmckynotes: k. so i was thinking about u in my couch with that shirt and in only panties.  wmckynotes: then in my thoughts i kiss u first, i think your lips are probably really soft 

you let out a slow breath and slid your right hand down your body. you slipped it under the waistband of your panties, feeling the heat radiating from your pussy. 

you didn’t go straight for your clit. instead, you pressed your palm flat against your mound, feeling how warm and slick you already were. 

y/nlocked: yeah?? what more… tell me

wmckynotes: i’d kiss u deeper… slowly sucking on your upper lip while my hands slide under your shirt. 

you kept pressing and rubbing your palm against your panties, the friction making you wetter. your hips moved slightly against your hand. meanwhile, keys ran his hand down his stomach and began slowly palming his cock over his pajama pants, feeling it thicken and harder under his touch.

then the next message appeared.

wmckynotes: can u touch yourself for me?

y/nlocked: i was already doing it

wmckynotes: you so dirty wmckynotes: good

keys squeezed his growing bulge firmly, rubbing it up and down over the fabric, feeling it twitch under his palm.

y/nlocked: are you touching yourself? y/nlocked: touch yourself and tell me more

wmckynotes: i’d keep kissing and sucking on your neck while my hand slides between your legs.. imagine your hand is mine and please rub your clit over your panties for me, baby. slow circles

you moved your fingers up and started rubbing slow circles over your clit through the soaked fabric. soft whimpers left your lips.

y/nlocked: fuck…. it’s so sensitive. are you stroking yet?

wmckynotes: not yet. just rubbing and squeezing over my pajamas. keep going princess

he continued palming himself, occasionally squeezing the head of his cock through the fabric, feeling himself get fully hard. his breathing was getting heavier as he watched the chat.

y/nlocked: i’m so wet… panties are a mess

wmckynotes: then pull ur panties aside and touch your bare pussy for me. tell me how wet u are

you hooked your fingers on the side of your panties and pulled them aside. your fingers immediately glided over your slick bare folds.

y/nlocked: my fingers are sliding everywhere

wmckynotes: fuck that’s so hot wmckynotes: start rubbing your clit directly now. slow circles wmckynotes: i just pushed my pants down. gonna touch myself for u. i’m so hard

keys pushed his pajama pants and boxers down to his thighs, freeing his thick hard cock. it slapped against his stomach, already leaking. then he wrapped his fist around the base and gave it a slow stroke, spreading the pre-cum over the head with his thumb.

you moaned as your fingers made direct contact with your swollen clit, rubbing slow, tight circles.

y/nlocked: this feels so good

wmckynotes: i’m stroking slowly. base to tip… pls push two fingers inside yourself for me. fuck yourself 

you did it. you slid two fingers deep into yourself, moaning louder. keys tightened his grip imagining that as he started stroking with long firm movements and his fist slid easily. 

y/nlocked: i’m fingering myself y/nlocked: wish those were your fingers tho

you didn’t stop. you saw him typing.

wmckynotes: fuck wmckynotes: do u have any toys?

you bit your lip, hesitating for just a second before answering honestly. you had one, you bought it when you were dating that pathetic boy you had as your boyfriend. he never made you come, and that's exactly why you bought it.

y/nlocked: yeah. i got one in my drawer

you reached over the nightstand drawer and took the toy in your hands. then you positioned yourself comfortably with spread wide legs. 

wmckynotes: rub the tip against your clit. get it nice and wet. i’m strocking faster now

you rubbed it up and down your slit, coating it with your wetness. keys was now fully focused on his own pleasure. keys’ hand moved faster. his hips were starting to buck up into his fist as he got more into it.

wmckynotes: push it inside and imagine it’s me stretching u

you did it, pressing it against your entrance and slowly pushing it in, gasping as it stretched you open.

y/nlocked: fuck… it’s thick. i need u

keys' large hand wrapped around his entire cock. he moved his hand up and down painfully, feeling that it wasn't quite enough. it wasn’t enough for him because he needed you. 

wmckynotes: fuck w it baby. nice and deep… imagine is my cock filling u up

you started thrusting the toy in and out, moaning louder with every push. your legs were already starting to shake, and your stomach was starting to feel strange.

y/nlocked: fuck… it’s thick

wmckynotes: don’t stop. i’m so fucking close baby :) i want u to cum all over the toy while i cum all over my hand

your moans turned into cries as your orgasm built rapidly.

y/nlocked: fuck… gonna cum. gonna cum so hard

wmckynotes: cum for me. fuck, i’m cumming too

you came with a loud scream. your back arched off the bed, your thighs were shaking violently as your pussy clenched around the toy. 

at the same time, keys groaned deeply, his hips buckling as thick ropes of cum shot across his stomach.

wmckynotes: are u ok

y/nlocked: fuck yeah y/nlocked: gonna clean this mess

wmckynotes: right wmckynotes: same

you got up to go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit. washed your face and drank some water before sitting back down on the bed and checking your phone.

he wrote again since the last message.

wmckynotes: since this is getting like wmckynotes: a little bit more serious wmckynotes: do u have like… discord or something?

y/nlocked: yeah y/nlocked: i use it for work sometimes

wmckynotes: can i add u there

y/nlocked: yeah ofc

you sent him your username, waiting for him to add you and it didn't take long for him to do so. but when you saw his discord profile picture, you froze. 

it was his face. and he wasn't just anyone.

he was the guy you met that very night at the work event. 

it was him. keys.

© dividers by angeliicide and suupersonic

[washoutmyhairdye]

the one with the rude neighbour

keys mckey x reader

summary: your neighbour gets tired of your constant loud noises and decides to take matters into his own hands.

warnings: smut +18 mdni, mention of alcohol, cursing, kissing, nipple play, p in v, unprotected sex, spit play & cum play.

wc: 2,1k

author's note: this is for juana whom i initially wrote this for as a joke... and for las nenas because they'd kill me if i didn't mention them. also, this is my first fic ever and english isn't my first language, so proceed at your own risk...

it was 11 p.m. on a saturday night, all keys could hear in his apartment was the frantic typing on his keyboard, the consequence of yet another project cutting too close to the deadline and being stuck rewriting his coworkers’ sloppy code.

well he could hear that... and also the bass thumping through the wall from the apartment next door; ever since a new neighbor had moved in, it had become a common occurrence to get almost no sleep on weekends thanks to their parties. 

he usually didn't mind the noise that much, he would put on his noise-cancelling headphones and tune it out, but tonight he couldn't afford distractions, he had to finish fixing those glitches on the game. he was already getting a headache and his mood was worsening increasingly as the music and laughs next door grew louder and louder.

two minutes before midnight he finally had enough. he didn't want to be the cranky next door neighbour but he wasn't taking any chances with this project; he had to get it done by the end of the weekend and that was not going to happen unless he got some actual peace and quiet to concentrate.

he let out a heavy, defeated sigh, got up from his desk, walked to the front door and paused for a few seconds, contemplating if he was really going to go through with this. deciding there was no other choice, he stepped out into the hallway, walked next door, and knocked three times. 

a minute passed and he knocked again, harder this time. no answer.

losing his patience on the third try, he simply turned the knob and walked straight in. the music was even louder in there, no wonder no one had answered, he squinted his eyes trying to see something between the low lighting and the mass of bodies grinding against each other. that’s when it hit him: he had no clue who he was looking for; he didn't even know what his new neighbor looked like. how could he, when he barely ever left his own apartment?

suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder and when turned around he was caught off guard by the pretty girl apparently talking to him.

"um, what?"  he cleared his throat confused.

"i said, who are you?!" you yelled over the loud music.

"well, i could ask you the same thing!" he yelled back, nervously adjusting his glasses.

"you're the one who just walked into my apartment..."

that's when he finally realized.

"oh... i’m keys... well, i’m actually walter but everyone calls me keys i mean, i'm your neighbour... apartment 3B?"

"nice to meet you... keys" you said with an extended hand.

he brushed it off. 

"look, we can do introductions later. i need you to turn down the music. it's making my head feel like it's about to split in half."

"why would i turn off the music at my own party where you showed up uninvited?"

"because some people are actually trying to work, and your music can be heard throughout the entire fucking building!"

"work? on saturday night?" you asked, confused and starting to get irritated by his tone. 

keys was growing more and more frustrated as the loud noise was numbing his senses and you were starting to get on his nerves. 

"i don't owe you any explanations," he said, crossing his arms tightly "you either turn the music down, or i call the cops and let them handle it."

you couldn't believe the audacity of this guy, showing up at your place, being rude as fuck, and demanding things. your vision was a little blurry from the drinks you’d had so far, but you couldn't help but notice that this angry neighbor named... keys?... was actually not bad looking at all.

his hair was messy, obviously from how many times he’d run his hands through it in the span of this 3 minute conversation, his glasses were a little smudged because he kept nervously fixing them and he was wearing some dorky star wars t-shirt. you weren't about to let him crash the party while everyone was having such a good time; maybe it was time to take a slightly different approach. 

you took a step closer.

"mmh, you know what? maybe you should just stick around..." you murmured casually, licking your lips and smirking when you caught his gaze dropping to follow the movement.

"what?" he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

you nodded.

"yeah.. working on a saturday night... maybe all you need after all is to loosen up a little, have a few drinks... maybe it'll stop you from being an obnoxious asshole." 

"what did you just call me?"

"oh, you heard me loud and cl-" 

you couldn't finish the sentence before he stepped into your space, backing you up against the wall and putting a hand over your mouth to shut you up.

"i dare you to finish that thought," he whispered, his voice suddenly dark and low.

your eyes widened and you looked at him with a strange mix of fear and lust, you knew you shouldn't be feeling this way about a literal stranger…  but the drinks you had so far and the heat of his body pressed against yours was making it impossible to think straight.

you gently pulled his hand down from your lips, batting your eyelashes. "or what? what exactly are you going to do about it?"

he suddenly looked around, conscious of how many people were surrounding the both of you; not like anyone was paying attention anyways. noticing his hesitation, you pushed him off softly, wrapped your fingers around his wrist, and led him straight toward the bathroom. 

once you were both inside, you clicked the lock into place. turning back to him, you smirked. "now, what were you saying...?"

keys didn't waste another second, he stepped forward, gripped your waist with both of his hands, and smashed his lips against yours, backing you up until your lower back hit the edge of the cold bathroom counter. the kiss was rushed and sloppy, your tongues mixing, driven by pure adrenaline as the heavy bass still vibrated through the bathroom walls.

he pulled away for a second, breathing heavily, knowing that he should stop this now. yeah, it had been a while since he had sex and maybe you were right about how he needed to loosen up, but fucking the neighbour that he has just met not even half an hour ago was not the right way to do so, no matter what the obvious bulge on his pants said.

keys didn't have much time to overthink before you gripped his shirt and pulled him back against you, hooking a leg over his to press him closer.

he got the hint and groaning against your mouth, he gripped your hips and lifted you effortlessly onto the counter, stepping between your legs and pressing his erection against your center. his mouth was back on yours again; he nipped at your bottom lip, sliding his tongue into your mouth in a slower and deeper rhythm that made your head spin.

his hand started to make his way up beneath your shirt, then he pulled back for a fraction of a second, his eyes searching for yours in a silent question. the moment you nodded he eagerly helped you take it off, exposing your skin to the cool bathroom air, and immediately got to work; cupping one of your breasts with his firm, warm hand while dropping his mouth to the other, swirling his tongue around your nipple before gently biting and sucking. you gasped, arching against him while you reached down for his belt, unbuckling it with trembling, impatient fingers. 

you pulled his zipper down, your knuckles brushing against the hot fabric of his underwear which made him let out a sharp breath. he spread your thighs wider, lifting your skirt up and brushing his long fingers over your already soaked panties. he smirked against you when he noticed how wet you were, then pressed his thumb firmly over your clit through the damp fabric, holding it there long enough to tease you and deliberately refusing to move it any further. grabbing him by his hair, you pulled his face back to yours and murmured against his lips, “please…” 

“do you have any condoms here?”

you sighed in frustration. “no… but i’m clean and on the pill. you can just pull out.” 

he nodded and he took his length out of his pants; you didn't even have time to register his impressive size before he brought his hand up to your mouth “spit,” he commanded with a dark voice. 

you complied.

he used your spit to stroke his dick a few times, letting out a low groan, then not even bothering to take your underwear off, he just pushed the fabric to the side, dragged his tip across your folds, circling on your clit before lining himself up and pushing his full length into you in one deep thrust. 

the sudden, burning stretch left you speechless, your eyes widening as your breath caught in your throat. he stayed still for a moment, burying his face in the crook of your neck, giving you the chance to adjust to his thickness, and feeling it pulse inside you. then, he began to move.

he started a merciless pace, his hips slamming with force against yours, the heat of his skin making an abrupt contrast with the cold marble beneath you; your moans were muffled by the party still going on outside so you didn't bother to hold them back. keys looked like a beautiful mess, lips parted, letting out ragged breaths, eyes barely open and his glasses completely fogged. you felt so full you couldn't even think straight.

 “keys… fuck, fuck…” 

“maybe this will teach you to do what i say next time,” he said, accentuating his words with an even deeper thrust. 

“i- mmgh…” you couldn’t even form a proper reply as he hit your sweet spot again and again. desperate for more you wrapped your legs against his waist pulling him as deep as he could possibly go.

he leaned down, lips brushing against your ear, "you like being loud, don't you? let's see if you can scream my name louder than that fucking music outside." he asked as he picked up the speed.

"keys- please” you gasped, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

listening to your pleas he guided his hand down between your bodies rubbing on your clit in perfect sync with his thrusts, driving you right over the edge; the double stimulation was too much, you arched your back, your walls clamping down around him tight as you came, crying out his name.

he gave a few more desperate thrusts while you rode your climax, cursing at the way your walls were squeezing him then pulled out, gripping his length and stroking himself 

as he came all over your stomach, letting out low grunts with every spurt. 

you both stayed completely still for a moment, trying to catch your breath, praying that no one had passed close enough to the bathroom to have heard any of that.

when you made a move to reach for the towel to clean yourself up, he pushed your hand away softly; leaned down, eyes locking onto yours as he licked the warm fluid pooling on your stomach. once he gathered most of it, he pulled back up to capture your mouth, and fed it back to you in a deep kiss. 

he finally broke the kiss and you both stayed completely still for a few seconds as the adrenaline slowly started to fade.

the contrast of the sudden quiet inside the bathroom hit you immediately; keys ran a hand through his completely ruined hair and adjusted his fogged glasses, swallowing hard as he fixed his pants and buckled his belt back on.

you slid off the counter, put your shirt back on and fixed your skirt and underwear making sure he was watching every move; you walked past him toward the door, hand resting on the knob before you paused.

"i'm turning the music down half a notch," you said, looking back over your shoulder for a second with a smug smirk "just because you asked so nicely."

then you opened the door and walked out, letting the loud music swallow you back in, leaving keys alone in the quiet bathroom to try and figure out what the hell had just happened.

[djopuppy]

you were never mine

coming soon: series masterlist

pairing: “king” steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: go through an all consuming situationship between you & “king” steve harrington. you’ve always had a crush on steve, and finally get a piece of him, but steve wont commit to you. his pride and ego as “king steve” will always matter most to him.

c/w: porn with a plot 18+, possessiveness, king steve persona, jealousy, insecurity, dom!steve, shy!reader, dirty talk, degradation, miscommunication, toxic relationship, angst and fluff, arguing, manipulation, steve wont commit.

౨⋆ৎ inspired by august by taylor swift ౨⋆ৎ

prologue - one of the girls

chapter one - in case you’d call

chapter two - twisted in bedsheets

chapter three - beneath the sun

chapter four - so much for summer love

chapter five - i remember thinking i had you

chapter six - for the hope of it all

a/n: i am soo excited about this! ive gotten a few requests for a part two of my fic “one of the girls” and decided to make it into a series! ill be updating it here as i go, you’ll be able to find this post on my masterlist. if you’d like to be tagged as i post, comment here! you can expect the first chapter within the next two weeks. thank you sm <3

[djostarkclub]

You always noticed it

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader x Jonathan Byers

Summary: You never meant to end up in the middle of Steve Harrington and Jonathan Byers, but after a buried past between them resurfaces, years of tension, jealousy, and unresolved feelings finally come to the surface, pulling all three of you into something messy, intimate, and impossible to ignore.

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI! , threesome, slow burn, mutual pining, jealousy, possessiveness (soft, emotional), unresolved tension, hurt/comfort, angst, emotional repression, friends to lovers, smoking, alcohol use, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (M/F receiving), M/M kissing, fingering, overstimulation, emotional vulnerability, praise kink undertones, obsessive feelings, eventual emotional resolution

A/N: This is my first fic here ever, and English is not my first language, so please be kind with me while reading it. I’m still learning and doing my best, I really hope you enjoy it anyway. And I can´t forget to thank mimi, juni, maría and sierra, because they were the first people to read this and the ones who convinced me it was worth sharing it. 💙

The tension between Steve Harrington and Jonathan Byers was impossible to ignore.

It was in the silences, the lingering eye contact, and the way Steve got louder and cockier whenever Jonathan was around, like he had something to prove.

Jonathan avoided looking at Steve for too long, but always ended up staring anyway when he thought nobody noticed.

At first, you honestly thought they just couldn’t stand each other, then you started seeing things that didn’t make any sense.

The way Steve sometimes touched Jonathan, quick hands on his shoulder, fingers brushing his wrist, grabbing his arm during conversations, only for both of them to freeze afterward like they had crossed some invisible uspoken line.

Jonathan, on the other hand, tensed whenever Steve got too close, even though he never actually moved away.

Their arguments always felt too personal, too emotionally charged to be about whatever they were pretending to fight about.

And somehow, without meaning to, you got stuck in the middle of it.

You met them separately at first, but eventually movie nights turned into late night drives, the late night drives turned into staying over at Steve’s place until sunrise and suddenly the three of you were spending almost every day together.

Steve flirted a lot with you from the beginning, shameless smiles, lazy arms around your shoulders, constant teasing that always made you laugh harder than you wanted to.

Jonathan was different. Quieter.

He noticed things that caught you off guard, tiny details you never remembered telling him in the first place. Your favorite songs. The way you took your coffee. The exact expression you made whenever Steve said something particularly irritating.

Without even trying, he always seemed to notice when your mood shifted before anyone else did.

The closer you got to them, the messier everything became.

Steve hated how naturally Jonathan understood you, watching the two of you fall into quiet conversations while everyone else talked around you.

Jonathan couldn’t stand how easily Steve touched you, the casual hands on your waist, the lazy way you leaned into him without even thinking about it, like being close to Steve had already become second nature.

One night after too many beers at Steve’s place, the three of you ended up in the kitchen while Steve and Jonathan argued over music or movies or some other stupid thing that shouldn’t have mattered nearly as much as it suddenly did.

“You always do this” Jonathan snapped.

Steve let out a bitter laugh “Do what?”

“This thing where you act like nothing gets to you"

“Oh, right" Steve shot back immediately “And you’re so honest about your feelings Byers?”

The room went quiet so fast that it almost felt violent, both of them realizing at the exact same moment they’d said too much.

You looked between them, confused, because this wasn’t just normal irritation anymore. This felt old, buried, too personal.

“What the hell is actually going on between you two?” you finally asked.

Jonathan looked away, Steve dragged a hand down his face, suddenly looking exhausted, and for a second neither of them said anything.

Then Steve laughed, quiet this time, but there was nothing amused about it.

“You really wanna know?”

Jonathan tensed “Steve…”

“No, it’s fine” Steve interrupted quietly staring down at the beer bottle in his hands “It happened after Starcourt”

You frowned slightly.

“We thought we were going to die” he continued “Everything was fucked up and we were bleeding and terrified and adrenaline was insane and…” He trailed off his jaw tightening “I guess one thing led to another”

You stared at him for a second before realization hit “Oh”

Jonathan let out a humorless laugh from across the kitchen lighting a cigarette just to have something to do with his shaking hands “And we agreed to never talk about it again”

“But it seems you really want to” you said before thinking

Neither of them answered which was answer enough. Because now you could see it everywhere.

The way Steve’s voice softened whenever he talked about Jonathan when he wasn’t around. The way Jonathan watched Steve whenever he laughed.

How they always somehow ended up standing too close to each other like two people orbiting one another no matter how hard they tried not to.

None of you knew how to act normal anymore. Everything felt loaded, every touch lasted too long, every glance felt too dangerous.

Movie nights became torture. You always ended up between them on the couch Steve’s arm resting behind your head while Jonathan’s knee brushed against yours like neither of them noticed it.

But he always noticed, they both did, and still nobody ever said anything about it, instead, the pression just kept building until it became impossible to ignore it.

Steve got more openly possessive after that night. Not in an aggressive way, nothing like that.

It was more like he suddenly couldn’t stop touching you. A hand on your waist whenever he walked past, fingers brushing your thigh during conversations, pulling you closer without even thinking whenever Jonathan made you laugh too hard.

Like some part of him needed the contact before he even realized what he was doing.

And Jonathan noticed every single time.

You could see it in the way his jaw tightened whenever Steve touched you. The way his eyes lingered for just a second too long. The fact he started smoking more anytime the three of you were together.

Steve noticed too, of course he did.

The way Jonathan looked at you whenever you weren’t paying attention. The way your entire expression softened around him without you even realizing it. How Jonathan could get under your skin without even trying.

The worst part was that neither of them seemed angry about the other wanting you. They were angry because they wanted each other too.

In what was supposed to be just another normal movie night at Steve’s, rain hammered against the windows while some stupid horror movie played in the background completely ignored by all three of you.

The atmosphere in the room had become unbearable hours ago.

Steve was sitting too close to you on one side, Jonathan too close on the other and every tiny movement felt charged.

At some point Steve reached over to grab a drink at the exact same time Jonathan did and their hands collided, both of them freezing.

Jonathan pulled away first standing abruptly from the couch like he needed distance from the situation before it swallowed him whole.

“This is getting ridiculous” he muttered

Steve scoffed “Yeah? Then say something Byers”

Jonathan turned toward him immediately “About what?”

“Oh my god” Steve laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair “You seriously wanna keep pretending this isn’t happening?”

“Nothing is happening”

“Right” Steve snapped “That’s why you look at me like that”

The room went silent.

Jonathan stared at him visibly tense “You don’t know what you’re talking about Harrington”

“Bullshit”

Jonathan looked furious but underneath it was something worse. Fear.

“You were the one who wanted to forget it happened remember?” he said quietly

Steve’s expression cracked for a second “Because I thought you would regret it”

Jonathan let out a soft exhausted laugh “I regretted pretending it didn’t mean anything”

You felt the shift in the room like something had finally broken open after trying for so long to keep it buried.

Steve watched Jonathan for a long moment before speaking again quieter this time. “I never stopped thinking about it”

Jonathan’s entire expression changed, softer, vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.

And suddenly you realized neither of them had ever truly wanted to let the other go. They’d just been terrified of ruining whatever they still had left.

You noticed everything unfolding in front of you and moved before you could think.

One second Jonathan was standing there looking at Steve like he still couldn’t decide if any of this was real.

The next your hand was on his jaw pulling him into a kiss and he kissed you back instantly like he’d been waiting for it.

Steve watched for barely a second before letting out this quiet almost disbelieving laugh under his breath.

“Jesus Christ” he muttered running a hand through his hair already looking overwhelmed by the entire situation.

Steve’s hand found your waist while Jonathan’s fingers curled tightly into your shirt and for a second nobody seemed to know who was kissing who anymore.

It was messy and clumsy and desperate in the way things only become after being buried for too long.

You could feel it in the way Steve kept looking at Jonathan between kisses like he still couldn’t fully believe this was real.

Like part of him was waiting for Jonathan to pull away and shut the whole thing down before it could become something dangerous.

But he didn’t. If anything Jonathan looked just as overwhelmed by finally being allowed to want this openly.

“You’re staring again” Steve murmured quietly at one point, his forehead resting briefly against Jonathan’s.

Jonathan rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t any real bite behind it anymore “You talk too much”

Steve smiled at that, small and almost nervous, somehow more intimate than everything else that had happened so far “Yeah, but you like it”

Jonathan didn’t deny it.

He just kept looking at Steve for a long second before finally admitting “I hated pretending it didn’t mean anything”

And that seemed to completely undo Steve. You watched his expression soften so fast it almost hurt to look at, relief and fear combined.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that” Steve admitted quietly.

Jonathan let out a quiet laugh under his breath, looking embarrassed and completely undone, affectionate in a way he probably didn’t even realize was painfully obvious.

“Could’ve said something too Harrington”

“Yeah well” Steve muttered, moving closer again until there was barely any room left between the three of you “I told you I thought you regretted me”

Something in Jonathan’s face softened immediately.

“I would never regret you” he admitted quietly.

The entire room suddenly felt too close after that.

The storm outside, the low lighting and lingering hands. All of it disappeared compared to the way they were looking at each other now.

You kissed Steve first this time, mostly because he looked dangerously close to completely falling apart otherwise.

That earned a breathless laugh against your mouth before his hands pulled you closer, like he couldn’t help it. Jonathan moved in almost right after, and suddenly the three of you were tangled together on the couch in a blur of limbs and quiet laughter.

Steve kissed with all desperation, intensity and just enough clumsy urgency to make your chest ache.

Jonathan was different. Slower. More careful somehow, but no less overwhelming. Every touch from him felt intentional, like he was trying to memorize the feeling before it had the chance to disappear.

Steve kept looking at Jonathan between kisses, something uncertain hidden underneath all the confidence he usually wore so easily, and Jonathan visibly lost whatever composure he had left every single time Steve touched him accidentally. Or maybe not accidentally anymore.

At some point Steve’s hand slipped across Jonathan’s waist while he was kissing you, and Jon actually stopped breathing for a second.

You noticed. Steve definitely noticed too.

“You okay there Byers?” Steve murmured teasingly.

Jonathan rolled his eyes, but his face was already noticeably flushed “Shut up”

That pulled a soft laugh out of Steve against your neck, and something about the sound seemed to completely break whatever restraint Jonathan still had left. Because suddenly he was kissing Steve too.

Not rushed or messy, just this quiet moment where Jonathan finally leaned in like he was exhausted from fighting himself for so long and Steve absolutely melted for it.

“Jesus” Steve whispered breathlessly after they finally pulled apart slightly “You have no idea what that just did to me”

Jonathan looked completely thrown off after that, like he genuinely didn’t know what to do with the confession sitting openly between them now.

He ducked his head slightly, almost embarrassed by how vulnerable he’d just been for even a second, but Steve kept staring at him anyway, so wrecked.

You could practically see years of suppressed feelings hitting him all at once.

“Don’t do that” Jonathan muttered quietly.

Steve blinked at him “Do what?”

“Look at me like that”

“Can’t really help it right now man”

That pulled another quiet laugh from Jonathan, soft and breathless like he was barely holding himself together anymore, and somehow the sound alone seemed to affect Steve even worse.

His hand slipped instinctively from your waist to Jonathan’s arm, fingers curling there gently like he needed the contact without even realizing it.

And Jonathan just let him. No pulling away, no complaints, no pretending.

They’d spent so long trying to act like they could move on from what happened between them. Like they could ignore it long enough for it to disappear on its own.

And meanwhile one soft kiss had completely unraveled both of them in less than five minutes.

“Okay” you murmured quietly, smiling a little despite yourself “So this has definitely been destroying both of you for a while”

Jonathan groaned instantly, dragging a hand over his face “Please don’t start”

“Oh I’m absolutely starting” you laughed.

Steve pointed at you immediately “No because you don’t understand, he used to look at me like I personally ruined his life afterward”

“You were just unbearably annoying afterward”

“I was traumatized!”

“You flirt with people when you’re uncomfortable Harrington”

Steve looked genuinely offended “That is not true”

You and Jonathan both just stared at him. Steve paused.

“…Okay maybe a little”

Jonathan shook his head, but he was smiling now, softer than before. Like finally saying all of this out loud had lifted something heavy off his chest.

Steve’s hand was still resting on Jon’s arm, the second one still standing close enough that their knees brushed every time either of them moved, but neither of them seemed to pay attention anymore.

Or maybe they noticed and simply didn’t want to stop. The room got quieter after that, a warm quiet. The kind where nobody really wanted to break the moment by saying the wrong thing.

You looked between them for a second before stepping closer again, resting your hand lightly against Steve’s chest.

"Watching you two dance around each other for weeks has been kind of painful” You said faintly

Steve groaned dramatically “Weeks? Try years”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “You are never shutting up about this now, are you?”

“Absolutely not Byers”

But despite the teasing, there was something nervous underneath Steve’s expression now too. Something uncertain every time he glanced at Jonathan, like part of him was still waiting for this to disappear And Jonathan, always the observer, noticed.

You could tell by the way his expression softened again. Then, quieter this time, almost careful, Jonathan said “Hey”

Steve looked at him and before either of you could react, Jonathan leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, intentional.

Steve made this tiny surprised sound against his mouth like he genuinely hadn’t expected Jonathan to do it first, and that seemed to wreck him all over again.

His hand slid up to Jonathan’s jaw almost instinctively, holding him there as if he was scared he’d pull away, but Jonathan only moved closer.

And then you were kissing Steve too, you were between them, and it felt impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, both of them kissing you while somehow kissing each other too.

You could feel both of their erections pressed against you, and it was almost embarrassing how badly your body was reacting to it.

Every touch felt amplified, every breath too warm. It was getting harder to hold back sounds, though honestly none of you seemed interested in pretending anymore.

Steve’s hand drifted lower slowly, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties just enough to make you gasp against Jonathan’s mouth.

“Fuck” Steve breathed against your skin, sounding genuinely overwhelmed “You feel that Jon?”

The soft brush of his fingers against your pussy made your entire body tense instantly, and the sound that escaped you pulled a low groan from Jonathan before he could stop himself.

“Jesus Christ” Jonathan muttered, forehead dropping briefly against yours “She’s gonna kill us”

Steve laughed quietly at that, strained and breathless.

Your fingers tightened instinctively in Jonathan’s shirt when Steve touched you again, slower this time, more deliberate, and both of them reacted immediately to the sound you made.

Steve actually groaned softly.

“There it is” he murmured dazedly “That sound”

The heat between the three of you was unbearable now, their touches felt dizzying. Every movement pulled another shaky breath out of someone.

You barely even noticed yourself reaching for Jonathan’s cock, your hand sliding beneath his waistband just enough to make him inhale sharply against your shoulder.

“Fuck” he breathed, visibly trying to keep himself together “Don’t do that unless you actually want me to lose my mind”

Steve let out another quiet laugh somewhere beside you, though he sounded just as affected “Pretty sure we’re already past that”

Jonathan pressed closer against your hand, and the broken sound he made under his breath nearly destroyed you.

You turned to kiss Steve, messy and desperate, swallowing the breathless sound he made against your mouth while Jonathan stayed impossibly close to you, every movement pulling another quiet groan from him.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to us right now?” Steve whispered shakily between kisses.

Jonathan laughed softly under his breath, completely wrecked already. “She knows”

The smug little smile you gave them made Steve groan instantly.

“Oh my god” he muttered, forehead falling briefly against yours “She so does”

Your entire body felt overheated, sensitive, desperate for more than teasing touches and half restrained kisses. And the second Jonathan’s hand slipped lower too, the reaction that tore through both of them was almost unfair.

Steve cursed softly against your mouth.

Jonathan let out this low shaky sound like he physically didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

“Fuck” he whispered, sounding completely dazed “Steve…”

“I know” Steve interrupted instantly, voice strained “I know”

Your head tipped back slightly as another wave of heat rushed through you.

“Please” you whispered breathlessly “Please”

Both of them froze for half a second at the sound of it then Steve let out this wrecked breathless laugh like the words alone nearly killed him.

“Jesus Christ” he muttered, hands tightening around your waist hard enough to make you shiver.

And before you could even think about what to say next both of them were moving at the same time.

Standing up and pulling clothes off, looking at you like they were starving.

Steve grabbed your hand fast enough to make you stumble into his chest, already tugging your shirt over your head with absolutely zero patience left.

“Need these gone” he breathed distractedly, mouth back on yours before the fabric even hit the floor.

Jonathan was quieter about it but somehow even more devastating.

His hands shook slightly while he pushed your clothes down your legs and when he kissed the inside of your thigh for half a second it felt less like teasing and more like he physically couldn’t stop himself.

Then Steve finally looked at you, really looked at you and the expression on his face nearly ruined you.

“Fuck” he whispered softly.

Not cocky this time, not teasing, just completely gone. Heat rushed through your entire body so fast it almost hurt.

Jonathan looked just as overwhelmed beside him, both of them staring openly now like neither of them knew where to touch you first. You didn’t think you’d ever seen either of them look this wrecked over anything before.

Your gaze kept drifting between them, completely unable to focus.

Steve was impossible not to stare at. Big and thick and already leaking slightly from the tip, enough to make your thighs press together instinctively.

Jonathan wasn’t any easier to look at either. Leaner. Longer. Pretty in a way that made your mouth water instantly.

The sound that left you when Steve pushed you down onto all fours against the couch was embarrassingly loud.

He spread your legs wider immediately, leaving you exposed while he dragged the tip of his cock slowly through your folds, teasing just enough to make your whole body shake.

At the same time Jonathan moved around in front of you, close enough that his cock was suddenly right there in your line of sight and fuck, you genuinely thought it might kill you.

Steve groaned softly behind you at the exact moment you wrapped your hand around Jonathan and took him into your mouth.

The reaction from both of them was immediate.

Jonathan cursed under his breath, fingers tangling in your hair while Steve’s grip on your hips tightened hard enough to bruise.

And suddenly the room was nothing but wet sounds and broken breathing and the feeling of Steve slowly pushing into you while Jonathan fell apart against your tongue.

The moment Steve pushed into your pussy both of you moaned at the exact same time.

The stretch nearly knocked the breath out of you, overwhelming in the best possible way, and having Jonathan right there in front of you only made everything worse.

His head tipped back slightly at the sound you made, dark eyes blown wide as he looked down at you like he was barely holding himself together.

Everything after that felt hazy, the sound of Steve behind you and Jonathan’s uneven breathing in front of you.

The way your body kept reacting to every touch like you physically couldn’t stop it.

You barely noticed Jonathan’s hand sliding into your hair until he pulled, the movement drawing another broken sound from both of you as you gagged.

A shaky apology slipped from him right after, quiet and breathless like he already knew he was losing control. And Steve noticed immediately.

A low laugh left him, rough and wrecked and way too affected by the sight in front of him.

“Jesus, Jon” Steve muttered strained “You’re completely losing your mind over there”

Jonathan shot him a glare that would’ve landed a lot harder if he didn’t already look utterly ruined.

Steve’s hand slid around your stomach suddenly, pulling you upright against his chest while he kept moving against you slow and deep enough to make your entire body shake. The new angle drew a broken sound out of you instantly.

And Jonathan…God. Jonathan looked completely gone at the sight in front of him, like he didn’t even know where to look first, your flushed skin or Steve’s hands gripping your waist.

The way your body reacted every time Steve moved.

Almost like he’d been silently invited closer, Jonathan dropped down in front of the couch without hesitation, eyes dark and completely fixed on you as he pressed his mouth against your inner thigh first, slow enough to make you shiver, then sucking your clit.

The sound that left you after that was embarrassing, uncontrolled and way too loud.

Steve cursed softly against the side of your neck while Jonathan kept going like he was starving for it, and the combination of both of them touching you at the same time felt almost unbearable.

Too much in the best possible way.

But what truly ruined you was the moment Steve accidentally brushed his cock against Jonathan's mouth while moving and both of them froze for half a second.

Like neither of them had expected it, Jonathan looked up and instead of pulling away, he just leaned in, completely instinctive.

The sound Steve made afterward was wrecked enough to send heat rushing through your entire body all over again.

You could only stare at them completely hypnotized.

The sound coming from Steve alone was enough to ruin you, low and wrecked and entirely too affected, especially with Jonathan sucking Steve's cock between your legs, looking up through messy dark hair like he didn’t know how to stop now that he’d finally let himself have this.

Those stupidly soft brown eyes were going to be the death of you and Steve clearly wasn’t doing much better.

Every reaction from Jonathan seemed to hit him all at once, dragging shaky sounds from his throat while his grip on you tightened instinctively like he needed something to hold onto.

Then his hand moved in you again, slow circles in your clit that made your entire body jolt and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

Not while watching Jonathan like this, not while Steve kept falling apart against your shoulder every time Jonathan touched him.

“Oh my god” you moaned shakily “Jonathan… Steve…I’m gonna come”

The sight in front of you felt almost unreal, Jonathan between your thighs, Steve barely holding himself together behind you.

The room filled with uneven breathing and broken sounds. And somehow the hottest part still wasn’t even the sex. It was the way they looked at each other, absolutely ruined and gone.

Jonathan finally pulled back just enough to say something and even then his voice sounded wrecked.

“Come for me” he muttered softly.

It almost didn’t sound real coming from Jonathan.

And Steve clearly felt it too because the expression on his face cracked open instantly after that, something overwhelmed and completely undone flashing across it before he let out the most broken sound you’d heard from him all night while he came all over Jonathan's mouth.

At the same time Steve’s hand pressed against your clit just right and everything crashed over you all at once in a way that made you see stars.

Your head fell back with a broken sound, body shaking hard enough that Steve immediately wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you steady while he cursed softly against your shoulder.

Jonathan looked just as wrecked afterward. Completely flushed and breathless, eyes dark as he pulled back only long enough to look at the two of you like he couldn’t fully process what had just happened.

But then after he swallowed every single drop of Steve's cum, he let his cock go with a pop, just to lick the slick from your pussy, making your legs lose all the strength you had left.

Steve helped ease you back onto the couch before glancing over at Jonathan pushing him seated beside you, hair messy and lips swollen and visibly trying to recover whatever was left of his composure and grinned slowly.

“Your turn now, Byers”

Jonathan looked wrecked already, hair messy, lips swollen, chest rising unevenly as he stared up at Steve “Harrington…”

“Shut up” Steve muttered, grinning as he dropped to his knees between Jonathan’s legs “I’ve been wanting to do this again for years”

Your breath caught at the look on Jonathan’s face after that, completely gone.

You watched almost hypnotized as Steve took him into his mouth like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Jonathan let out the most unfair sound imaginable the second Steve touched him, one hand tangling instinctively into Steve’s hair like he physically couldn’t stop himself.

“Oh my god” Jonathan gasped, visibly trying to hold himself together. “Jesus Christ, Steve!”

Steve just hummed around him lazily, the vibration making Jonathan jerk hard against the couch with an uncontrolled moan.

“Fuck, okay, okay, holy shit” Jonathan laughed low, though he sounded genuinely gone now.

Steve pulled off just enough to look up at him with a cocky grin “What happened to acting all emotionally unavailable, huh?”

Jonathan glared at him weakly “I hate you”

“No you don’t”

And the way Jonathan glanced at him after that made it very obvious he didn’t.

Steve went back down on him immediately after, deeper this time, and the sound Jonathan made was obscene. His head dropped back against the couch while his fingers tightened in Steve’s hair instinctively.

“You’re fucking insane” Jonathan muttered shakily “How are you even…fuck…”

Steve only groaned around him again, clearly enjoying every second of this far too much.

You could see it in the way he touched Jonathan too, not teasing anymore, not nervous, just openly obsessed.

Like finally getting to have this again had ruined him.

“Look at you” Steve murmured after pulling back slightly, sounding almost delirious himself “You have no idea how pretty you sound right now”

“Oh my god” you laughed softly “He’s blushing"

“Shut up" Jonathan groaned instinctively.

Steve laughed against his thigh “Nah, this is cute as hell actually"

“Steve”

But the warning died in Jonathan’s throat when Steve took him deep again, making him moan obscenely loud. Steve looked up at him with the most smug expression imaginable.

“You're done pretending you don’t like me now?”

Jonathan stared at him for a second before laughing breathlessly, defeated “You’re such an asshole”

“And you’re obsessed with me”

It didn’t take long before Jonathan came with a broken sound, head thrown back against the couch.

But even then Steve didn’t stop right away. He kept going like he was addicted to it, like he physically couldn’t pull himself away, until Jonathan finally begged him to stop in a wrecked, overstimulated voice.

Jonathan’s chest was heaving by the time Steve finally pulled back, lips swollen and hair ruined from Jonathan’s fingers tugging at it.

For a second nobody said anything.

You just stared at them, mesmerized because it wasn’t only the sex anymore.

It was the way Steve kept his eyes on Jonathan afterward, dazed, almost affectionate, still couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch him like this again.

And Jonathan looked just as wrecked, one arm thrown over his eyes while he tried to catch his breath, laughing quietly in embarrassment every time Steve kissed absentmindedly at his thigh or stomach like he physically couldn’t stop himself.

“Dude” Jonathan said finally, voice still rough and shaky “you seriously need to chill the fuck out”

Steve only grinned against his skin “No”

“You almost killed me”

“And you loved every second”

Jonathan let out a shaky laugh at that, clearly too lost to even argue properly anymore.

You couldn’t interrupt even if you wanted to. Watching them together felt dangerously intimate, like witnessing years of buried feelings unravel in real time.

Steve kept touching Jonathan without thinking, hands on his waist, fingers brushing through his hair, lazy kisses pressed anywhere he could reach and Jonathan actually let him, no pulling away.

Just this exhausted softness between them that made your chest ache. Then Steve finally glanced back at you, still breathless himself, eyes dark and ruined.

“You’re staring” he teased quietly.

“Can you blame me?” you murmured.

That made Jonathan groan softly from the couch “Please don’t encourage him”

Steve laughed “Too late for that”

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. If you did, please leave a comment, like, reblog or share it with your obsessed Stonathan friends 💌

[stvswrld69]

endorphin therapy

pairing: steve harrington x reader summary: your stress levels have been through the roof for weeks and the only person bearing the brunt of your bad mood is your best friend, steve harrington. after too many coments, steve finally calls you out until finally he suggests a way to release the tension, and it's not in the way you expected. wc: 3.8k warnings: +18 (minors do not interact), explicit nsfw, unprotected sex, fem!reader, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, best friend steve, dirty talk, rough sex, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, masturbation in pool (f receiving), mention of alcohol, big dick canon, reader being a bitch with steve, fingers in mouth, aftercare. author's note: just wanted to say thanks my girl valeria for the help

college was wearing you out, finals were breathing down your neck, and on top of that, you had extra shifts in your horrible and boring work. and that made you absolutely buried under stress for weeks. 

you were sleeping barely four hours a night, and the only thing keeping you awake was the excessive amount of coffee and the occasional nap you’d take without meaning to when you’d fall asleep sitting at your desk.

everything annoyed you. everything was too loud, too bright, and just too much for you. and unfortunately for him, steve harrington –who had been your best friend since high school– was taking the brunt of your whole situation, including your bad mood.

you had been a complete bitch to him the past two weeks, but there was one particular situation that lingered in steve’s mind more than he would have liked.

you stormed into family video. the cool air conditioning hit your overheated skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. your shoulders were tight, your jaw locked, and you hadn’t slept properly in days. 

between finals and extra shifts, you were one inconvenience away from snapping. 

you just wanted a movie. something spicy enough to distract you tonight when you were alone, trying –and probably failing– to relieve some of this unbearable tension by yourself.

steve was behind the counter wearing that stupid green family video uniform that somehow made his shoulders look broader and his arms look bigger. robin was a few feet away, restocking some tapes, but you could already feel her watching you the second you walked through the door.

you went straight to the small adult section and grabbed the first movie that looked filthy enough. a half-naked couple on the cover with a dark lighting and a title that screamed horny. 

you didn’t even read the back, you just wanted something with sex, moaning and heavy breathing: anything to help you when you were alone in your room.

with the tape clutched tightly in your hand, you went straight to the corner, slamming it down. steve was leaning against the register, and the second he saw the tape, his hazel eyes lit up with pure mischief. 

he picked up the tape slowly and raised his eyebrows, turning it in his hands as he examined the cover with exaggerated interest. 

‘’so… what’s this?’’ he said, his voice dripping with teasing amusement. ‘’you have a date tonight and you’re looking for ideas for later or what?’’

your face instantly heated up with a mix of embarrassment and rage.

‘’shut the fuck up, steve,’’ you snapped, glaring at him with pure venom. ‘’just scan the tape and keep your mouth closed today.’’

steve placed a hand dramatically over his chest, pretending to be deeply wounded.

‘’no, no… you don’t get to say that,’’ he replied, acting completely indignant. ‘’we tell each other everything. everything. since when are you planning spicy nights and not telling me? i thought we had no secrets. i’m… deeply hurt.’’

robin, who was pretending to organize tapes on a nearby shelf, let out a loud snort and walked closer, clearly entertained.

‘’i hope steve doesn’t tell you in detail how he keeps sleeping with half the girls in hawkins,’’ she said, glancing at you with a smirk. ‘’because apparently he’s still very much in game.’’

steve turned to her with a fake smile.

‘’hey! i don’t sleep with all of them,’’ he protested though the little smirk on his face made it very obvious he was lying through his teeth.

he turned back on you, leaning further over the counter, his voice dropping into that low teasing tone that always drove you insane.

‘’but seriously, you didn’t tell me anything. what is wrong with you?’’ your hands clenched into fists at your sides. you could feel your face burning with humiliation and pure anger. 

‘’steve, i swear to god’’ you hissed through gritted teeth. ‘’if you don’t shut up your fucking mouth right now and give me the damn tape, i’m going to throw this at your head and walk out.’’

steve chuckled softly, scanning the tape painfully slowly, clearly enjoying every second of your frustration.

‘’damn, you really are wound up today, huh?’’ he said, still smirking. robin leaked against the counter beside him.

you snatched the tape the second it was scanned, practically throwing your money at steve’s chest.

‘’you’re acting like the worst best friend in the entire fucking world,’’ you growled with your voice shaking with anger. ‘’i don’t know why i even bother with you anymore.’’

steve just smiled innocently as you turned on your heel to storm out.

‘’enjoy your movie and your date!’’ he called after you sweetly. the second you were gone, robin whistled. 

‘’you’re such an asshole,’’ she laughed. steve stared at the door you had just slammed, a stupid smile still on his face.

after that, the week went on just the same—or even worse. you still were a bitch with him; snapping at his jokes, rolling your eyes when he tried to cheer you up, giving him short answers and telling him to shut up. and steve was patient, really patient. 

but he couldn't take it anymore.

it was friday night. steve dropped robin off at her house after closing family video. you were sitting in the passenger seat of his bmw, arms crossed tightly over your chest and your jaw clenched so hard it ached.

you stared out the window like you were offended, and the silence in the car was thick and uncomfortable, almost suffocating. steve glanced at you sideways  while his fingers drummed on the stared.

the silence only lasted a few more seconds before he couldn’t hold back anymore.

‘’jesus christ,’’ he muttered while shaking his hand. ‘’you gonna keep sitting there like i ran over your dog?’’ 

you didn’t even look at him. steve let out a sarcastic laugh.

‘’wow. really mature. you’ve been acting like this for you weeks and now you can’t even speak? what, did i breathe too loud today?’’

that did it.

you whipped your head towards him, your eyes blazing with anger.

‘’god, can you just shut up for once in your life, steve?’’ you snapped with a sharp and venomous voice. ‘’you’re so fucking annoying. always poking, always talking. i’m allowed to be in a bad mood without you making it worse by being a pain in the ass.’’

steve’s eyebrows shot up, but instead of backing off, he smirked.

‘’oh, i’m the annoying one now?’’ he shot back, teasing. ‘’you’ve been treating me like shit for two weeks straight and i’m the problem? come on. you’re being so dramatic.’’

your mouth fell open in disbelief. 

‘’are you serious right now?’’ you hissed while you raised your voice. ‘’you’re such a fucking asshole. i told you i’m stressed, i told you i’m tense and all you do is poke at me like i’m so kind of joke.’’

steve’s smirk faltered for a second, but he quickly recovered, still trying to push your buttons.

‘’maybe if you stopped being so uptight and actually talked to me instead of biting my head off every five seconds–’’

‘’pull over,’’ you cut him off coldly. steve blinked.

‘’what?’’

‘’i said pull the fuck over. i’d rather walk home than listen to you right now.’’ 

steve didn’t pull over. instead, he let out a long breath and softened his tone a little bit.

‘’alright, fine. i’ll stop. just… talk to me. what’s actually going on?’’

you let out a long exhausted sight and rubbed your face with both hands, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on you. your eyes burned from lack of sleep and your shoulders felt like they were carrying bricks.

‘’i’m sorry, steve… i’m not mad at you. i swear i’m not,’’ you numbed. ‘’i’m just… really fucking tired. everything irritates me. i’ve tried everything. i went running, took long hot baths, even touched myself and nothing helps.’’

steve stayed quiet for a long moment, driving slowly through the dark streets. the only sound was the low hum of the engine. then, he let out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the heavy mood.

‘’you know… i did some reading the other day. family video stress the shit out of me and i searched some things.’’ he said casually, glancing at you. ‘’i’ll look into it properly. give me a couple of days. maybe i can find something that actually helps you realise all that tension.’’

you didn't reply. the car fell silent again as he drove you home.

three days. those were the exact days that passed. it was monday night, just past midnight.

steve invited you to his big house. you both had been drinking for a couple of hours by the pool. nothing too strong, just a few beers.

you were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, wearing one of steve’s old shirts over your bikini. steve was inside the pool, leaning against the edge right in front of you, shirtless, and with his hair wet and messy.

he looked up at you, water droplets running down his hairy chest and you tried not to make too much eye contact there.

‘’so… i did the research i promised,’’ he said with a soft voice. ‘’i went to the library and everything. looked in actual encyclopedias and medical books.’’

you raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

‘’wow. you actually went to the library and read? i’m impressed, harrington. didn’t know you knew how.’’

steve grinned and grabbed your waist with both hands, yanking you in the water. you let out a surprised squeal as you both fell into the warm water with a big splash. when you came up for air, steve was right in front of you.

‘’you asshole!’’ you laughed, pushing his chest.

the soaked shirt was now clinging to your body like a second skin, and without thinking, you grabbed the hem and pulled it over your head, tossing it onto the pool deck with a wet slap.

steve’s eyes darkened as they roamed over your body for a second before he forced them back to your face.

‘’well, you deserved that. that was cold,’’ he said, pretending to be deeply offended. 

‘’start talking before i leave to drink another beer,’’ you said.

‘’i spent actual hours reading about endorphins, oxytocin, stress hormones… all of it. apparently the fastest way to release extreme built-up tension is through really intense physical activity. multiple orgasms.’’

he was getting more nervous the longer he spoke so his usual cocky confidence cracked.

‘’i mean– you don’t have to… obviously,’’ he added quickly while his voice got softer. ‘’it was an idea. we can pretend i never said anything. i don’t want to make things weird between us. i just hate seeing you this stressed and…’’

‘’are you insinuating something, steve?’’ you asked. 

you wanted to hear an answer from him to see if they were just empty words coming out of his mouth or if he really meant it.

‘’yeah… i mean, yes,’’ he admitted. then he backtracked. ‘’no, no, nothing like that! i didn’t mean– shit, forget i said anything. i wasn’t trying to pressure you or–’’

you smiled and leaned a little closer to him. steve took it as a signal, so he cupped your face with one hand and kissed you.

the kiss started gentle but quickly turned deeper. you responded, kissing him back while your fingers thread through his wet hair. 

after some seconds you pulled back slightly, breathing a little faster, and whispered against his lips.

‘’i’ll keep that in mind.” you started to pull away, but steve gently grabbed your hand, stopping you. he pulled you back toward him.

you smiled, then leaned in and kissed him again — deeper this time, more sure. 

he froze for half a second before he melted into the kiss with a deep groan. his wet hands immediately grabbed your waist. 

steve was an incredible kisser. girls weren't lying about that.

he started by pressing his lips against yours, then focused on your upper lip –kissing it gently– then with more pressure. his mouth moved perfectly against yours, slow and deep at first, then hungrier.

his nose kept bumping into yours.

you moaned softly into his mouth as he kissed you deeper, his tongue sliding against yours. his hands grabbed your ass under the water, squeezing firmly and pulling you flush against him. you wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively, grinding against the obvious bulge in his swim trunks.

steve groaned against your lips, one hand staying on your ass while the other slid between your bodies. his fingers then pressed over your bikini bottoms, rubbing slow and firm circles against your covered clit.

‘’fuck..’’ he murmured between kisses. he kept kissing you on the upper lip while his fingers rubbed gaster, pressing against your clit through the thin fabric. 

you held onto his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin as pleasure built rapidly.

‘’that’s it, pretty girl,’’ he whispered hotly. ‘’grind on my hand like a good girl. you’ve been so tense for weeks… you deserve this.’’

he wasn’t as shy as he was a few minutes earlier.

you whimpered, rolling your hips desperately against his fingers. steve rubbed faster, pressing harder while the water made everything slick and intense.

‘’steve– fuck,’’ you moaned. 

‘’you touched yourself so many times and couldn’t cum properly, huh, princess?’’ he growled softly. ‘’look how quickly you’re shaking for me, baby. this pretty pussy is so needy for my touch. that’s cute.’’

your legs started trembling violently around his waist. pleasure built higher as he rubbed fast circles. you were right on the edge, thighs squeezing him.

‘’steve– oh god. i’m so close, please.’’ you whimpered. 

just as you were about to cum, he suddenly slowed down and pulled his hand away. you let out a broken whimper, burying your face in his neck.

‘’not yet, baby,’’ he whispered. ‘’i want you in my bed. i want to take my time with you, princess. i want to hear every pretty sound you make when i finally let you fall apart.’’ 

he kissed one last time before carrying you out of the pool toward the house, water dripping everywhere. 

the second you were through the front door, steve pinned you against it, kissing you again like he was starving. you stumbled up the stairs together, and halfway up, steve pressed you against the railing, kissing you deeply again.

you finally reached his bedroom door, crashing through it. steve kicked it shut behind him and threw you onto his bed slowly. you landed with a small bounce, still dripping wet from the pool.

steve crawled over you, his hair was still dripping. then he moved down your body, kissing and sucking marks into your skin until he settled between your spread thighs. he looked up at you with hungry eyes. 

he hooked his fingers into your bikini bottoms and slowly pulled them down your legs, tossing them aside. he buried his face between your legs and devoured you like a man starved.

steve was completely pussy drunk. he licked, sucked and tongue-fucked you with messy enthusiasm, moaning loudly against your pussy as two fingers pumped deep inside you. 

he licked a long slow stripe from your entrance all the way up to your clit, moaning loudly at your taste.

‘’fuck, you taste so good,’’ he groaned, the vibrations sent you shocks through your body. ‘’so sweet and sloppy. i could eat this pretty cunt for hours.’’

‘’please– don’t stop. don’t.’’ you moaned, rolling your hips against his face. 

he dove back in like a man possessed. 

steve licked broad, flat strokes through your folds, savoring every drop of your wetness. he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, humming happily as he flicked his tongue rapidly over your sensitive bud. 

then he pushed his tongue inside you, fucking you with it while his nose was pressed against your clit. he was loud, messy and addicted. the obscene wet sounds of him slurping, sucking and moaning against your pussy filled the entire room.

his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you wider as he buried his face deeper.

‘’god, baby… you’re dripping down my chin,’’ he mumbled. ‘’such a messy little pussy. you’re soaking me and i fucking love it.’’

he replaced his tongue with his fingers again, pumping them and curling them perfectly against your g-spot while he focused on your clit again.

‘’fuck, steve… you’re so good at this.’’ you moaned.

‘’you love this, don’t you, princess?’’ he said. his chin was shining with your juices. ‘’love having your best friend eat your pussy like a starving man. bet you’ve been touching this greedy cunt thinking about me every night while you were being mean to me.’’

you moaned loudly, and steve doubled down, sucking harder and pumping his fingers faster. he was completely lost in you.

‘’steve, fuck. i’m gonna cum–’’ you cried out.

he didn’t stop, and you came hard with a loud scream. your thighs clamped around his head as you gusher on his tongue and fingers. steve moaned loudly, refusing to pull away. 

he kept licking and fingering you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you were shaking and oversensitive, pushing at his head.

he finally pulled back, his chin and lips shiny with your juices and his eyes glazed with pure lust. steve shoved his swim trunks down his hips, kicking them off, and his thick hard cock sprang free.

steve was huge. way too big. 

you’d had sex with other guys before, but you’d never seen anything like this.

you always heard him talk about his sexual experiences. that was the normal thing between you two as best friends. 

but you just thought he was exaggerating — that it was just an ego boost.

when robin joked about it, or steve said that girls told him it didn't fit in, you just laughed: you thought they were just jokes. 

but apparently, they weren’t.

he climbed on top of you and rubbed the head up and down your soaked folds. 

‘’look at me, princess,’’ he ordered.

and you did.

‘’i don’t know if it all fits steve. you’re so big…’’

‘’just the tip first.’’ he groaned, and then he pushed a little bit, the head stretching you open. ‘’relax for me… that’s it, good girl. you’re doing so well.’’

he rocked his hips gently, feeding you another inch. then another, watching your face the entire time.

‘’oh my god…. fuck, steve.’’ 

‘’taking me so good, baby.’’ he praised with rough voice. ‘’look how your pretty pussy is swallowing my cock.’’

then his control snapped. steve pulled back almost all the way and slammed back in hard, setting a brutal pace. the bed cracked as he fucked ou deep and rough, hips snapping against your ass with loud slaps.

‘’take it, princess,’’ he growled. ‘’take every fucking inch.’’

after a few thrusts, he pulled out, flipped you onto your hands and knees, and positioned you so you were facing a full-length mirror in the corner of his room.

the mirror was tall and elegant. 

steve had had it since his freshman year of high school, back when he was king steve: the ultimate jock who spent way too much time obsessing over his hair, clothes and appearance. he used to stand in front of it and fix his hair there, and now, some years later, he was fucking you in front of it.

steve got behind you, gripped your hips tightly and thrust back inside you again. 

‘’look. look in the mirror.’’

he grabbed your face with one hand, fingers gripping your jaw firmly but not painfully, and he forced you to look straight ahead at your reflection.

“watch,” he ordered, starting to fuck you hard again. “watch how pretty you look getting fucked by my big cock.”

you moaned loudly at the sight. the mirror showed everything in explicit detail; your flushed face, your tits bouncing wildly with every thrust, your mouth open in pleasure, and steve’s body behind you as he pounded into you mercilessly. his thick cock disappeared completely inside your pussy again and again, stretching you wide.

“steve— oh my god. look at how deep you are…” you gasped, unable to look away. “you’re so big…”

“yeah? you like watching me destroy this tight pussy, baby?” he groaned, slamming into you harder. he kept one hand on your jaw, forcing you to keep watching. “look at how well you take every inch. such a good girl for me, princess.”

he fucked you relentlessly in front of the mirror, hips snapping against your ass as the sound of skin slapped loud and filthy. his other hand reached around to rub your clit in fast giving rough circles.

he suddenly pushed two fingers into your mouth.

“suck,” he commanded, voice low and filthy. “suck my fingers while you watch yourself get fucked, princess.” you moaned around his fingers, sucking them greedily as he continued pounding into you.

“cum for me, baby,” he commanded with a low voice. “cum while you watch yourself get fucked by your best friend. gonna breed you so deep you’ll be leaking my cum for days. you want that, princess? want me to pump you full until your belly swells with my load?”

you moaned loudly around his fingers, nodding desperately as you watched yourself in the mirror. steve fucked you even harder as the same time he rubbed your clit faster.

“that’s it… cum for me, baby. let me breed this greedy little cunt.”

you came hard with a loud scream, your walls pulsing violently around his thick cock. steve followed right after, burying himself to the hilt and flooding your pussy with thick hot ropes of cum.

he stayed buried deep inside you, both of you breathing heavily, sweaty and satisfied. then kissed your shoulder softly, still holding your face so you could see your wrecked reflection.

then his entire behavior softened. 

steve slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper at the feeling of being empty. he gently turned onto your back and lay down beside you.

‘’you okay?’’ he whispered. ‘’was i too rough or something?’’ you shook your head, still catching your breath.

‘’i’m perfect,’’ you murmured. ‘’i feel relaxed now.’’ 

steve chuckled softly, sitting in the bed to put his clothes back again.

‘’let me take care of you now, okay?’’ 

he got up and walked to the bathroom, returning a minute later with a towel. steve gently cleaned between your legs, wiping away the mixture of your juices and his cum. he tossed the towel aside and climbed back into bed. 

after a comfortable silence, steve spoke.

‘’... is this gonna ruin our friendship?’’ 

you lifted your head to look at him.

‘’no,’’ you whispered. ‘’it won’t.’’ 

steve let out a relieved breath.

‘’good,’’ he said, smiling. ‘’because next time you feel this stressed… don’t be a bitch to me again. just come to my house. the scientific method clearly works.’’

you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

‘’i’ll keep that in mind,’’ you said.

© dividers by angeliicide and suupersonic

[djostarkclub]

Local Man Insists He’s Normal

Robin: You know for someone who acts mysterious all the time you complain a lot Jonathan: I don’t act mysterious Robin: Jonathan you literally stand in corners at parties holding cigarettes like a divorced vampire

[djostarkclub]

Sooooo hypothetically if i said i’m posting my first fic on friday and it´s a stonathan x reader fic, would anyone be interested??? 👀

Because these two emotionally repressed disasters have completely taken over my brain lately

[druckers]

i would fuck him [remembers im talking about a real person] um [remembers its normal to be attracted to people] i would fuck him

[gutsnhugs]

director's cut ⁠♡ stonathan x reader

pairing: steve harrington x reader x jonathan byers ٠࣪⭑ wc: 5.2k

summary: rooftop afterparty turns filthy when jonathan byers and steve harrington set their sights on you. one thing leads to another and you end up at their shared apartment, caught between them for a hot, messy night. tags/warnings: 18+ ! MDNI ! smut, fem!reader, stonathan x reader, mmf threesome, polyamory, bisexual male characters, explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, car fingering, public teasing, elevator makeout, creampie, unprotected sex, cum play, male/male kissing, male/male handjobs, alcohol use, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, aftercare, established jonathan/steve friendship, sexual tension, friends to lovers, one night stand, consensual sex, fluffy smut author's note: helloooo everyone !!!! been working on this fic for weeks and here it is :) it`s like the freakiest thing i've ever written but i've been yearning for these two since forever ... this fic is dedicated to my wife @djopuppy <3 enjoy !!!! ao3

The city lights of New York City glitter like scattered diamonds against the night sky as you step out of a sleek black car. The premiere of Echoes in the Static still hums under your skin, an indie psychological thriller that left the festival crowd buzzing long after the credits rolled. You can still feel it in your bones: the flicker of the projector, the collective silence during the final hallway sequence, the way people sat frozen for half a second before applauding like they’d just woken up from a nightmare.

Your nightmare. Your film. Well, not technically yours. But your fingerprints are all over it. Every shadow, every ugly little pocket of darkness swallowing the corners of the frame. Every trembling light source. Every suffocating close-up. You spent months bleeding yourself dry over that cinematography, sleeping on editing room couches and living off cold brew and cigarettes while arguing with colorists at three in the morning.

And now your name sits there in the credits forever.

Tonight’s afterparty feels dangerous in the way success always does. Like if you let yourself enjoy it too much, something will come along and snatch it away.

The rooftop pulses with low conversation and expensive perfume. Jazz spills from a trio tucked near the far railing, all slow saxophone and lazy piano keys. String lights sway overhead in the warm spring wind, washing everyone gold and amber and beautiful enough to belong in movies themselves. Actors cluster near the bar pretending not to check whether photographers are catching their good angles. Producers laugh too loudly. Somebody from Variety is flirting with a costume designer beside a heater lamp.

You’re halfway through a glass of champagne when you spot him.

Jonathan Byers.

He’s standing near the elevator doors with his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets, like he already regrets coming but is trying not to show it. Taller than you remember. Leaner, somehow. His hair’s longer now, curling slightly at the ends like he’s been too busy to cut it properly. Black button-down sleeves rolled to his elbows. Rings on his fingers you don’t remember him wearing before.

And Christ, he’s beautiful. Not in the polished Hollywood way everyone else here is beautiful. Jonathan looks real. Sharp edges and tired eyes and quiet intensity. The kind of man who notices things nobody else does. His eyes find yours across the terrace and immediately soften.

There it is. That shy little smile. You feel it low in your stomach before he’s even crossed the room.

“Hey,” he says once he reaches you, voice warm beneath the noise of the party. His gaze flickers over you like he’s trying not to stare and failing a little anyway. “Congratulations.”

You smile automatically, fingers tightening slightly around your champagne flute. “Thanks.”

“No, seriously.” He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head once. “The cinematography was insane. The hallway shots? Jesus. It felt like the walls were alive.”

You grin despite yourself. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Yeah, well.” His gaze drifts over your face for half a second too long before he drags it away. “You nailed it.”

The compliment lands harder than it should. Maybe because Jonathan doesn’t bullshit people. Every word out of his mouth always sounds carefully chosen, like he means it or he wouldn’t say it at all.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” you say, leaning one shoulder against the railing.

“Friend of a friend on lighting crew.” He rubs the back of his neck, visibly nervous now that the attention’s shifted onto him. “I wanted to see the final cut.”

“You liked it?”

“I think I’m gonna be thinking about it for weeks.”

Your laugh comes easier after that.

Conversation slips into place almost immediately, smooth and familiar. You talk lenses and lighting ratios and impossible shooting schedules. Jonathan tells you about a recent freelance photography gig shooting album covers for some post-punk band whose lead singer nearly set a couch on fire mid-shoot.

You tell him about the disaster of filming a subway sequence at four in the morning while the director had a nervous breakdown over continuity. Jonathan laughs quietly at that, eyes crinkling. God, his eyes. You notice the way they linger on your mouth when you talk. The way his fingers brush yours when he hands you a napkin. The way his voice lowers every time the conversation drifts away from work and toward something more personal.

“You look…” He pauses briefly, jaw tightening like he’s annoyed at himself for saying it out loud. “Really good tonight.”

Heat blooms through you instantly. “You clean up alright too, Jonathan.”

His ears go pink immediately. Cute. Dangerously cute.

“I’m gonna grab us another round,” he says eventually, lifting your empty champagne flute from your hand. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary before he steps back. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“No promises.”

Jonathan gives you one last look before weaving toward the bar through the crowd.

And that’s when you notice him.

Steve Harrington.

He’s leaning against the polished bar like he owns the damn rooftop. Whiskey glass loose in one hand. Charcoal suit jacket pushed open. Tie abandoned entirely. Broad shoulders. Expensive watch. Stupidly perfect hair somehow surviving the wind. The kind of handsome that should honestly piss you off.

And the worst part? You know immediately that this is Steve. Not because you’ve met him before. You haven’t. But because Jonathan talks about him constantly.

Not in an obvious way. Jonathan would probably rather die than admit how often Steve’s name comes up in conversation. But over months of late-night phone calls and half-distracted conversations in editing suites and smoking outside bars after gigs, Steve Harrington has slowly become this weird recurring character in your life.

Steve said this. Steve did that. Steve burnt pasta again. Steve drove five hours to help him move apartments. Steve once started making dinner without asking, then left Jonathan a plate on the counter and didn’t mention it again.

Sometimes Jonathan talks about Steve like he’s infuriating. Sometimes like he’s family. Sometimes with this strange softness in his voice that always made you curious. And now here he is. Real.

Apparently it pisses Jonathan off that Steve exists tonight too, because the second Jonathan reaches the bar, Steve says something that makes Jonathan scowl immediately.

You can’t hear them from here, but their body language says enough. Steve’s grinning like an asshole. Jonathan’s glaring like he wants to throw him off the roof.

Interesting.

Steve notices you watching before Jonathan does. His eyes lock onto yours. And fuck. There’s something openly hungry in the way he looks at you. Not subtle. Not polite. Just immediate interest. Like he already knows exactly who you are.

Jonathan follows Steve’s gaze and catches you staring. He mutters something under his breath that makes Steve bark out a laugh.

Then both of them start heading back toward you.

Oh, this should be fun.

Steve reaches you first, naturally.

“Steve Harrington,” he says, extending a hand with an easy confidence that feels almost unfair. “Friend of this guy.” He jerks a thumb toward Jonathan without looking away from you.

You take his hand. Warm palm. Strong grip. “I gathered.”

“You say that like he talks about me too much.” Steve’s mouth curls into a grin immediately.

Jonathan nearly chokes on his drink. “Oh my God.”

Your eyebrows lift innocently. “Maybe a little.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jonathan mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can we not do this?”

Steve looks delighted. “No, no, keep going. I’m invested now.”

You laugh into your glass while Jonathan glares at both of you like he regrets inviting himself into existence tonight.

The dynamic between them becomes obvious within minutes. They bicker constantly, but with the kind of rhythm only people deeply familiar with each other have. Steve interrupts Jonathan just to annoy him. Jonathan rolls his eyes so often it becomes almost affectionate.

And underneath it all, there’s something else. Something charged.

Steve touches Jonathan casually when he talks. Shoulder. Wrist. Lower back squeezing past him near the bar. Jonathan pretends to hate it every single time but never actually moves away.

You notice because of course you do. And judging by the way Steve catches you noticing, he knows you notice too.

The conversation loosens with every drink. Steve leans closer when he talks to you, knee brushing yours beneath the cocktail table. Jonathan gets quieter the drunker he gets, but somehow more intense too. His compliments stop sounding accidental.

“You shoot people in a way that feels intimate,” he tells you softly at one point, fingers tapping absently against the side of his glass. “Like the camera’s in love with them.”

Steve groans dramatically beside him, throwing his head back. “Jesus Christ, Byers. See? This is what I mean. You flirt like a nineteenth-century poet.”

Jonathan flips him off without missing a beat. “Eat shit Harrington.”

You laugh so hard champagne nearly comes out your nose.

And God, they’re both gorgeous. Steve all confidence and easy charm and restless hands. Jonathan all restraint and tension and eyes dark enough to drown in. The chemistry between the three of you thickens until it feels almost visible. Every glance lasts too long. Every touch lingers.

At some point Steve’s hand settles casually against the small of your back while Jonathan stands close enough that his shoulder brushes yours every few seconds. Neither of them moves away. Neither do you.

“You know,” you say eventually, tilting your head as you study them over the rim of your drink, “this is getting genuinely unfair.”

Steve smirks immediately, thumb still warm against your spine. “How so?”

“You’re both ridiculously attractive.”

Jonathan nearly chokes on his whiskey. Steve beams like he’s won something.

“I’m serious,” you continue, glancing between them. “I can’t decide which one of you I’d rather take with me.”

Silence.

Jonathan goes very still beside you. Steve’s expression changes instantly, not joking now. Something darker settling into his face.

Then slowly, casually, he says, “who says you have to choose?”

Jonathan stares at him. “Harrington.”

“What?” Steve shrugs, entirely too innocent. “I’m just saying. We’re all having a good time.”

“You are out of your fucking mind.”

“You telling me you haven’t thought about it?” Steve asks, one eyebrow lifting.

Jonathan opens his mouth. Closes it again.

Steve’s grin widens in real time. “Oh my God,” he says. “You have.”

“Shut up.”

You’re trying not to laugh now. Jonathan looks mortified. Steve looks thrilled.

Then Steve turns to you again, gaze dragging slowly over your face. “We could get outta here,” he says lightly, though his voice has gone rough around the edges. “Keep the night going somewhere less crowded.”

Your pulse skips. Jonathan watches you carefully from beside him. Not pushing. Just waiting.

“Only if you want to,” he says quietly. His voice is softer than Steve’s, steadier somehow, but it hits infinitely harder.

That does it. That careful softness in his voice. That look in Steve’s eyes. The electric tension stretching between all three of you like a wire seconds from snapping.

“Yeah,” you say.

Steve immediately pulls out his phone. “Holy shit. She said yes.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Jonathan mutters, already rubbing at his forehead.

“Dude you’re the one making it weird with this shy-nonchalant-mysteious thing going on, man.”

“Fuck you.”

“Hopefully later.”

“Harrington.”

You burst out laughing while Jonathan groans into his drink.

The ride down starts innocently enough. The rooftop elevator is almost empty this late into the night, all mirrored walls and dim golden lighting. The doors slide shut behind the three of you with a soft chime, sealing the noise of the party away instantly.

Silence settles. Heavy silence. The kind where everybody suddenly becomes hyperaware of breathing. Of hands. Of mouths.

Steve stands beside the control panel, phone still in hand after ordering the car. Jonathan’s near the back wall, whiskey-flushed and tense in a way that makes him look dangerously pretty.

And you’re standing between them. The elevator hums downward. Nobody speaks.

Steve breaks first, of course.

“Okay,” he says quietly, glancing between you and Jonathan. “I can’t do this.”

You barely have time to blink before he’s moving. One second there’s space between you. The next his hand is around your waist and his mouth crashes into yours hard enough to steal the air from your lungs. It’s not gentle. It’s heat and impatience.

You gasp against him and Steve takes advantage immediately, kissing you deeper with a rough little sound in his throat like he’s been thinking about this since the second he saw you across the rooftop. His body presses you lightly against the elevator wall. Big hands. Warm whiskey breath. The scrape of expensive suit fabric beneath your fingers.

“Fuck,” Steve murmurs against your mouth, almost laughing from disbelief. “Jesus Christ.”

You kiss him back harder. Somewhere beside you, Jonathan exhales shakily. You pull away from Steve just enough to look at him. Jonathan’s watching like he can’t decide whether to step in or lose his mind.

You make the decision for him. Your hand curls into the front of his shirt, tugging him forward.

Jonathan kisses completely differently. Slower at first. Tentative for all of half a second before restraint snaps clean in two. Then suddenly he’s kissing you like he’s starving. One hand cups your jaw carefully while the other grips your waist hard enough to wrinkle the fabric of your dress. He tastes like whiskey and nerves and something devastatingly soft underneath it all.

Steve stays pressed against your side the entire time. Watching. Breathing hard. His hand slides over your hip possessively while Jonathan kisses you deeper, and the feeling of both of them touching you at once nearly melts your fucking brain.

“Holy shit,” Steve mutters, voice low and wrecked.

Jonathan laughs quietly against your mouth, breathless. “You’re one to talk.”

Then Steve kisses you again. And somehow the three of you end up tangled together in the middle of the elevator, mouths colliding messily between laughter and heat and too much tension finally breaking loose. Steve’s hand cradles the back of your neck while Jonathan’s fingers curl around his wrist.

You feel the exact second the energy shifts. Subtle. Dangerous.

Your mouth parts from Steve’s just long enough to notice the way he’s looking at Jonathan now. Not joking. Not teasing. Something older lives there. Something buried deep. Jonathan sees it too.

The elevator keeps descending. Slowly, carefully, Steve reaches for him. Jonathan doesn’t pull away.

Their kiss starts softer than yours did. Almost hesitant. Then Steve grips Jonathan’s jaw and suddenly it turns hungry fast. Years of unresolved tension flare alive right in front of you. Jonathan makes this quiet wrecked sound into Steve’s mouth that feels almost too intimate to hear. Steve kisses him like he’s furious about how badly he wants him. Like he’s spent years pretending this didn’t exist.

Your back hits the elevator wall softly as you watch them lose themselves in each other for a few perfect seconds. Jonathan’s hand fists in Steve’s suit jacket. Steve’s thumb strokes across Jonathan’s cheekbone almost unconsciously. Beautiful. Achingly, terrifyingly beautiful.

The elevator dings.

The doors slide open with a soft mechanical whisper, spilling the three of you out into the cool marble lobby. Your lips are still tingling from the kiss, legs a little unsteady as Steve keeps one hand firm on your lower back and Jonathan stays close on your other side, his fingers brushing yours like he needs the contact to stay grounded.

The night air hits you the second you push through the glass doors onto the street.

The car Steve had already called is waiting at the curb. He doesn’t hesitate, just walks ahead like it’s the most natural thing in the world, opening the back door first and holding it there. “C’mon,” he says, glancing back at you both.

Jonathan goes in after a beat, still a little dazed, sliding into the far side of the backseat. You follow right after him, slipping into the middle, thighs pressed on either side as the space closes in around you.

Steve ducks in last, shutting the door behind him with a solid click, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder as he settles in on your other side.

The driver glances at you three through the rearview mirror. “Evening. Where to?”

Steve rattles off the address to their shared apartment in a casual tone, already leaning forward a little like he’s settling in for a chat. The car pulls smoothly into traffic.

You shift slightly in your seat, trying not to think too much about how little space there is between the three of you. That’s when your eyes catch the driver’s GPS screen. The route is already calculated. Ten minutes. It hits you almost annoyingly clearly.

Your dress has ridden up just enough that the cool leather seat kisses the backs of your thighs. Steve’s hand finds your knee immediately, innocent enough from the outside. Jonathan shoots him a warning look across you—sharp, dark brows drawn—but Steve just grins that easy, charming grin and starts talking.

“So, uh, how long you been driving nights in the city?” Steve asks the driver, voice light and conversational like he’s not currently sliding his palm higher up your thigh under the hem of your dress. “Must see some wild shit, right?”

The driver chuckles, launching into a story about a fare last week who tried to tip him in cryptocurrency. You barely hear it. Your heart is hammering against your ribs as Steve’s fingers trace slow, teasing circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He’s subtle, barely moving, keeping his arm relaxed across the seat like he’s just resting it there. But every brush sends sparks straight to your core.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your breathing even. Jonathan’s hand settles on your other thigh, possessive but still. He’s glaring at Steve again, a silent stop it in his eyes. But then his gaze drops to your face. Your parted lips, the flush creeping up your neck, and something shifts. His fingers tighten, then start moving too, mirroring Steve’s slow exploration but pressing a little firmer, higher.

Heat floods you. You’re already wet from the elevator, aching, and their hands are so close to where you need them. You shift in the seat, pressing your thighs together instinctively, but that only traps their fingers tighter against you.

Steve keeps talking, voice perfectly steady. “Yeah? Man, that’s crazy. I once got in an Uber where the driver was playing some loud ass classical music at like two in the morning. Didn’t even ask, just… went for it. Honestly kind of respected it.”

The driver laughs again, oblivious. Your hand grips the edge of the seat. Jonathan’s fingers slip under the edge of your panties first, brushing lightly over your slick folds. You stifle a gasp, turning it into a cough. Steve notices and smirks without looking at you, his own fingers joining, parting you gently and circling your clit with maddening softness.

“Everything okay back there?” the driver asks casually.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Steve says smoothly, teasing a finger just inside you while he keeps eye contact in the mirror. “Long night, right babe?”

You swallow hard, throat dry. “Mhm. Just… tired.”

Jonathan leans in slightly, his fingers don’t stop. Two now, pressing deeper, curling just right while Steve focuses on your clit. The dual sensation is overwhelming. Steve’s thicker fingers, rougher calluses, Jonathan’s more precise, sensual strokes. You’re soaked, the wet sounds barely masked by the low hum of the engine and Steve’s endless chatter.

Steve turns his head toward you, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, what was that shot you took at the bar earlier? The one with the orange twist? You liked that, right?” His voice is teasing, deliberately pushing you while his fingers move quicker. “Tell this kind driver how much you liked it.”

Your mouth opens, but only a shaky breath comes out. Pleasure coils tight in your belly, thighs trembling. Jonathan saves you, squeezing your thigh gently. “She liked the whiskey sour better,” he says calmly, voice low and steady.

Steve chuckles softly, but he doesn’t stop. Neither does Jonathan. Their hands work in tandem now. Steve rubbing firm circles on your swollen clit while Jonathan thrusts two fingers slowly in and out, curling against that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes. You’re fighting every moan, nails digging into the leather seat, hips rocking minutely into their touch. The city lights streak past the windows in blurs of gold and red, but all you can focus on is the building pressure, the slick heat between your legs, the way both of them are rock hard against your sides. You can feel the outline of Steve’s erection pressing into your right thigh, Jonathan’s long length on your left.

By the time the car slows to a stop outside their building, you’re right on the edge, panting quietly through your nose. Steve pays and thanks the driver with a grin, then bolts out first, nearly tripping over the curb in his haste. Jonathan helps you out more gracefully, but his hand lingers on your waist, steadying you on shaky legs.

Steve is already at the building door, fumbling with his keys. They jingle loudly as he drops them once, twice, cursing under his breath. His cheeks are flushed, pants obviously tented. “Fuck—come on—”

Jonathan laughs, a low, warm sound that cuts through the night air. “Smooth, Harrington.” He steps forward, plucks the keys from Steve’s hands, and unlocks the door in one fluid motion. “Let’s get inside before you break something.”

The apartment is dimly lit by a single lamp when you all stumble in. Cozy, with a big sectional couch dominating the living room. Steve kicks the door shut behind you and immediately crowds you against the wall, mouth crashing into yours again. Jonathan presses in from the side, lips finding your neck, hands roaming.

But then Steve pulls back, breathing hard. “Bedroom. Mine.”

Jonathan’s hands pause on your hips. “No. My bed’s bigger.”

Steve groans. “Yours has those creepy horror posters everywhere. The one with the guy’s face melting? Not exactly mood-setting, man.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes, but there’s heat in them. “Your room smells like that cologne you drown yourself in and there’s that ugly picture of a car hanging on the wall. Who the fuck would have a framed photo of a car in first place?”

You laugh breathlessly between them, hands sliding up both their chests. “Living room,” you say breathlessly, grabbing Steve’s shirt and Jonathan’s wrist. “Couch. Right fucking now.”

Neither of them argues.

Steve let out a low chuckle, already shrugging off his jacket. “Bossy. I like it.”

Clothes come off in a messy, desperate rush. Steve’s jacket hits the floor. Your dress pools at your ankles. Jonathan yanks his shirt over his head, revealing that lean, beautifully toned torso. Steve’s fingers work his buttons open, exposing the dark hair on his chest and the tempting happy trail that disappears into his pants, inviting. When their erections spring free, your mouth waters—Steve’s is thick and heavy, flushed dark, while Jonathan’s is long, slightly curved, already leaking at the tip.

You don’t wait. You wrap a hand around each of them, stroking slowly, feeling the contrast in weight and texture.

“God,” you murmur, voice low and hungry. “So fucking hard…”

Steve groans, hips twitching into your fist. “You were so wet and beautiful in the car, baby. Couldn’t help myself.”

Jonathan leans in, kissing you slow and deep, tongue sliding against yours. “You looked so perfect.” he breathes against your lips.

Steve claims your mouth next, rougher, while Jonathan drops his head to suck on your nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make you moan. Their hands are everywhere. Steve’s thick fingers push back inside your soaked pussy, curling perfectly, while Jonathan’s thumb circles your swollen clit with devastating precision.

“Fuck—yes,” you gasp, head falling back. “Just like that—don’t stop.”

You stroke them faster, twisting your wrists, swiping your thumbs over their leaking heads. The sounds they make turn you on even more.

“Keep touching us like that,” Steve mutters against your neck, voice rough. “Your hands feel so fucking good.”

You glanced down, watching their free hands find each other. Steve wrapped his big hand around Jonathan’s erection, stroking him with slow, confident pumps focusing on the base while you worked on their heads. Jonathan did the same to Steve, twisting his wrist just right. The sight made you clench hard around Steve’s fingers.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” you breathed.

Steve kissed you hungrily, then turned his head to capture Jonathan’s mouth over your shoulder in a messy, heated kiss. You kept stroking them, thumbing over their leaking tips, while their fingers worked you open.

You dropped to your knees before they could stop you. You grin, breathless. “I want you both so bad… I can’t decide who to taste first.”

You sink to your knees between them, looking up with dark, eager eyes. You take Steve into your mouth first, stretching your lips wide around his thickness, then turn to Jonathan, taking him deeper, savoring the way his length curves against your tongue. You alternate between them, then press them close together, licking and sucking both erections at once in messy, filthy strokes.

Steve’s hand slides gently into your hair. “Fuck, baby… look at you. Such a greedy, perfect girl for us.”

Jonathan’s voice is rougher than usual. “You look so beautiful like this. Jesus.”

You hum around them, the vibration making both men groan. You keep going until they’re throbbing against your tongue, until their hips start twitching.

They pull you up before either of them finishes.

Jonathan lays you down on the couch first, spreading your thighs wide. He kisses his way down your body with aching reverence—stomach, hips, inner thighs—before his mouth finally finds your pussy. His tongue is broad and slow, licking long stripes through your folds before focusing on your clit. Two fingers slide inside you, curling just right.

You moan loudly, fingers threading through his hair. “Oh my god, Jonathan—”

Steve kneels beside you, kissing you deep and filthy. “Taste so sweet, don’t you, sweetheart? Let him make you come. I want to watch you fall apart.”

The orgasm crashes into you hard. Your back arches, thighs clamping around Jonathan’s head as you cry out, pulsing around his fingers. He doesn’t stop until you’re shaking and oversensitive, whimpering.

Then he positioned himself between your legs again, lining up. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you perfectly.

“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours. “You okay?”

“More,” you gasped, pulling him down to kiss you. “Fuck me, Jonathan. I need it.”

He started moving, deep rolling thrusts that hit every perfect spot. You moaned into his mouth, nails digging into his back.

After a while they switched. Steve flipped you onto your hands and knees, gripping your hips as he pushed inside. The stretch was bigger, deeper.

“Shit, baby,” he grunted. “You’re gripping me so fucking tight.”

You pushed back against him. “Harder, Steve. I can take it. Please.”

He did. One hand reaching around to rub your clit. Jonathan knelt in front of you, feeding you his cock. You sucked him eagerly, moaning around his length every time Steve thrust deep.

They leaned over you, kissing each other sloppily above your back, the wet sounds mixing with skin slapping and your muffled moans.

You came again hard, clenching around Steve’s erection while Jonathan’s length twitched on your tongue.

They moved you again, laying you on your side. Jonathan spooned you from behind, sliding back in with a low groan, kissing your neck and shoulder as he thrust deep and slow.

“You feel incredible,” he whispered against your skin. “So warm and wet. Taking me so well, baby.”

Steve faced you, kissing you deeply, his thick erection sliding against your clit with every movement until he couldn’t wait anymore. He pushed back inside you when Jonathan pulled out, rougher, gripping your ass.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve growled. “Give us another one. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You were shaking, overstimulated and desperate. “I’m close—fuck, I’m so close—”

Jonathan reached between you, rubbing your already hypersensitive clit. “That’s it. Come for us, beautiful.”

You shattered again, crying out their names.

Finally, they put you on your back once more. Steve slid back inside you, groaning at how wet and open you were.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” he panted, thrusting deep. “You want that? Want my cum deep in this pretty pussy?”

“Yes,” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fill me up, Steve. Please.”

Jonathan stroked himself faster, leaning down to kiss you messily.

Steve came first, burying himself deep with a broken moan, flooding you with hot spurts. At the same time, Jonathan groaned, painting your breasts and stomach with thick ropes of cum.

The three of you collapsed together, breathing hard.

Steve kissed your forehead, then your lips, soft and sweet. “You were fucking incredible.”

Jonathan nuzzled into your neck from the other side. “You okay? We didn’t go too hard?”

“I’m perfect,” you whispered, smiling lazily. “I’ve never felt so good in my life.”

After a moment, gentle hands take care of you. Steve grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up carefully. Jonathan brings cold water from the fridge and makes you drink. Then they pull a soft blanket over all three of you on the big couch.

A couple of minutes later, Steve sat up slightly. “I’ll get her my shirt, wait” he said quietly.

Jonathan lifted his head. “Mine's softer. She should wear mine.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Yours is all wrinkled on the floor. Mine’s a nice dress shirt. It’ll be more comfortable for her right now.”

“It’s also stiffer,” Jonathan argued softly. “She needs something actually soft on her skin right now man.”

You let out a tired, amused laugh and tugged gently on both their arms. “You two are already fighting again… I kind of love it. But seriously, either shirt is fine. I just want to feel both of you close.”

Steve grinned. “See? She wants the nice shirt.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes but smiled. “She didn’t say that, but, man, whatever, Jesus… next time I’m picking first.”

“Next time?” you teased weakly, voice sleepy.

“Yeah,” they both answered at the same time, then looked at each other and chuckled.

Steve grabbed his button-down from the floor and helped you slip it on. It was big, warm, and still carried his scent. Jonathan tucked the blanket tighter around all three of you.

“Stay right here with us tonight,” Steve murmured, thumb stroking your cheek.

Jonathan pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “We’ve got you, baby. Get some sleep, yeah?”

Safe between their warm bodies, you drifted off with the taste of them still on your tongue.

author's note: i hope you enjoyed my fic ! If so, reblog, comment or share please 🫶🏻 it motivates me to write more !

[djopuppy]

what are you wearing?

pairing: steve harrington x female!reader wc- 3.9k

summary: your boyfriend steve helps you masturbate over the phone, but he gets so worked up that he ends up coming over to take care of his need too.

w/c: explicit smut! 18+, masturbation, use of sex toys, dirty talk, p in v, cream pie, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, degradation kink, praise kink, overstimulation, big dick steve

you knew who was calling the second you heard the phone ring. steve usually called at the same time every night. you smiled against the receiver that was now pressed to your ear as soon as you heard the familiar charming voice of your boyfriend.

“hey, love. you still awake?”

you could picture him, lounging in some lonely hotel bed with his hair all messy, looking unreasonably sexy. steve always looked the best when he wasn’t trying. some too tight t-shirt probably stretched across his chest that was straining on his biceps. his hair messy from his hands running through it every few minutes.

“hey, babe. yeah, of course im up. wouldn’t miss talking to you.” you loved this time of night, recalling your days to eachother and gushing about how much you missed the other.

“i missed your voice today. have a good day?”

a simple conversation went on for about twenty minutes, discussing your days and telling eachother how much you can’t wait to reunite. steve had been gone for three days now, on some boring business trip his father had dragged him on. he was supposed to return home tomorrow afternoon, you were counting down the hours.

you were talking about your day, telling him about the mall, and the new clothes you just picked out for summer when you heard the tone of his voice shift when he spoke again.

“so.. what are you wearing right now?” it was a suggestive question, and you knew it. it had been three days after all, and steve was a very needy man.

your cheeks flushed slightly “nothing exciting. just the pink pjs, with the floral print.”

he hummed into the phone line “the pink ones with the floral.. i know those. the soft ones.”

you smiled a little, he was so observant.

“but that’s not what i meant. what’s under all the softness, baby? tell me.” it wasn’t really a demand, it sounded like a plea. a needy one.

your cheeks flushed further at the boldness of his question “just.. you know…”

“no, i don’t know. im not there to see for myself, so you gotta tell me. c’mon, don’t be shy”

“just the white lace panties, with the pink bow on the front” you whispered it softly, a little embarrassed.

you heard steve groan, and it sounded like his head fell back on a headboard. he was quiet for a long minute, picturing you all alone in your large bed. the same bed he usually fucks you senseless in. the same bed he’s pried those lace panties off with his teeth more times than he could count.

“those ones…mm. so pretty, baby. you know how much i love those.”

“they’re your favorite, aren’t they?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“yeah, they are. you put those on just for me?” you couldn’t lie, you had. you’d selected them out of memory of all the times steve hadn’t been able to take his hands off you when he saw you in them.

“maybe i did” you teased.

“yeah? want you to touch yourself f’me.. just slowly, be a good girl and tell me how it feels. okay?” steves voice was low, barely a whisper into the phone receiver.

“touch myself.. where?” you knew where. but you wanted him to tell you. you wanted him to walk through it, talk you through it. you could imagine his reaction, how he was working himself up.

“start with that pretty neck, trace that soft skin right under your ear. tell me how it feels when you drag your nails across it. is it sensitive?”

you traced your fingers down the side of your neck, exactly where he places small kisses “it’s so sensitive..” a shiver went down your spine at the light touch.

“keep going, lower, down your collarbone.. down your sternum. want you to squeeze those tits” steves voice was getting rougher.

you slid your hand down, finding one of your breasts and gathering it into your hand, squeezing. pinching your nipples lightly, making them hard under your touch as you pictured steves rough hands.

“are your nipples hard for me? all pebbled and aching?”

“mhmmm, they’re.. fuck, steve. they’re so hard” you whimpered

your nipples were achingly hard, your fingers digging into the soft flesh and pinching your nipples in the same rhythm that steve would. you gasped into the phone.

“so fucking beautiful when you’re desperate. i want you wet for me. you getting there?”

you breathed out a breathless “yes”, which steve rewarded with “good girl.” the praise sending pleasure through your body, pussy throbbing against the lace in your shorts.

his words felt like a caress, painting the path of your arousal for you. “slide your hand down, slow. down your stomach and over your hips, tell me when your fingers are tracing that pretty white lace”

your hands roamed your body, fingers delicately skimming over your warm and flushed skin. every inch of skin you grazed felt overly sensitive, your body responding to everything. you reached the edge of your panties and you could feel just how badly you were throbbing, needy for any sort of touch. desperate to feel something other than the emptiness.

“slide the tips of your fingers right under that lace, just the tips. tell me how wet you are. make that pretty little clit swell for me” steve instructed

you slid your fingers under, exactly as he said, and grazed over the entrance of your pussy. a moan left your lips when you finally made contact. your thumb went straight to your clit, circling in slow motions.

“so wet.. just want you to c’mere and drink it all up” your stomach was fluttering, desperate for more than what steve was instructing.

“oh, baby, you have no idea..fuck” steve was rock hard, throbbing in his pants, pressing his palm down hard on his erection for any kind of relief. “slide a finger in for me, just one…. now curl it, honey. press up, right where you're most sensitive. can you imagine that it's my cock?” you heard steve let out a whine. “god, im so fucking hard for you, just aching to fill you up.”

your breath was hitching into the phone as your fingers explored your pussy, feeling how you’d clench around yourself just like you clench around steve when he was the one filling your insides.

“yeah? come on and fill me up then.. come stretch me with your cock, stevie” you teased, knowing the reaction would be instantaneous.

steve groaned at that. you knew he couldn’t, he was two hours away for a business trip, but you knew teasing him would cause his thick cock to twitch in his pants. it was turning you on to hear how turned on he was.

you whined, growing wetter and more comfortable as you felt the wetness spread “jus wanna be stretched so good, baby. want you so bad.”

you heard steve go quiet for a minute before his voice cut into the receiver again “you still have that toy? the one i got you?”

you knew exactly what he was talking about. the long and girthy dildo that stretched you wide. he’d gotten it for you a few months ago, for times exactly like this, when he couldn’t do it himself.

you reached over to your nightstand and pulled it out “mhmmm, i do. want me to use it? tonight?”

“yeah, use it. put it in slowly, lemme hear every inch going deep in that pussy” steve could picture you perfectly. pink flush running from your cheeks down your sternum, mouth open in a soundless moan and back arched slightly off the bed as your cunt accommodated the stretch of the dildo.

you whined as it stretched you, sinking it slowly into your cunt inch by inch “st- steve… i want you so bad.. wish you were here.”

“so desperate for me, huh? it’s only been a few days and you’re already all messy for me. my perfect girl who becomes such a slut when im not there to fuck into you properly. you wanna know what id do if i was there? mm?” the image of you was burning into steves mind, making him twitch and press his clothed dick harder into his hand.

heat rushed to your core, your inner walls squeezing around the silicone “yes, yes. tell me. please, baby” you moaned out as it reached deep inside you.

“id flip you over. so you were on your hands and knees for me, make you keep the dildo right where it is. then id get behind you and spread your cheeks, watch how fucking wet you are for me. watch you fuck yourself with the toy.” steves voice was rough, needy.

your eyes were squeezed shut as you listened to the filthy words leaving steves lips, breath shallow as your body trembled in euphoria.

“then i’d lean down and use my tongue. starting right from your clit, all the way down to where you’re being stretched. taste just how bad you want me.”

you were breathlessly moaning into the phone receiver, body extremely full and sensitive, desperate to orgasm. steves voice was tipping you over the edge.

“keep fucking yourself, just like that. keep it deep.”

you nodded even though he couldn’t see you, squeezing your eyes shut as your stomach fluttered and back arched off the bed.

“can’t stop thinking about your legs shaking... how you grip the sheets when you're close. i wanna feel that around me so bad” you were surprised that steve wasn’t getting himself off, you were surprised you hadn’t heard the wet sounds of his hand sliding up and down his thick cock firmly, but steve wasn’t worried about his own desperate need. steve was completely focused on your pleasure, completely enamored with making sure you felt good when he wasn’t there to do it for you.

“i’d grab your hips, baby. hold you tight when i finally replaced the dildo with my cock and fucked into you, hard and deep. make that pretty ass bounce for me.”

you were speeding up your movements, slamming the silicone into your sensitive pussy repeatedly to chase your release. steve could hear the squelching sounds of it going in and out of you. the sound of sheets rustling and muttered curses came from his side of the line. he was getting frantic.

“tell me you want me, tell me you want me filling you up. please, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered at how desperate he sounded, you imagined his eyes were wild with need. “want you so bad. you.. fuck.. you stretch me so good”

“i know i do, god, i know. now be a good girl and make yourself cum for me. yeah?” steves voice was low and rough.

“ye-yes i can be good, ill be good” you were desperate for his praise, the words that came from his lips were sending chills down your spine as a choked gasp left your lips as your eyes shot open, your body spasming on the bed as your orgasm crashed over you.

steves breath was shaky “listen to you… so fucking beautiful when you cum. so perfect for me.”

your body went limp as you pulled the dildo out, breathing heavily as your cunt fluttered around nothing.

“fuck.. you okay, baby? you sound so beautiful. just wish i was there to hold you.”

you hummed into the phone “mhmmmm that.. was so good. i wish you were here too, i miss you so much.”

“i wanna be there so bad. wanna kiss you all over… feel you shaking against me.” steve said softly. you were quiet for awhile, your body exhausted as you attempted to catch your breath.

“i should let you sleep, love. you sound exhausted.” he sounded reluctant to get off the phone, but he knew you must’ve been tired.

“mmmkay. goodnight, baby”

“i love you” was the last thing steve said before hanging up the phone. you set the phone down back on the hook and fell fast asleep before you could even clean yourself up.

steve was pacing his hotel room, large hands tugging at his beautiful chestnut hair. his hand was still constantly pressing down on his erection, but it offered no relief. steve could lay back down, wrap his hand around his cock and make himself cum in a few minutes. but your voice and your moans were echoing in his head, he knew his hand would be nothing compared to the warmth of you. it wouldn’t even compare.


the image of you all blissed out and sleeping alone, without him, was unbearable. the thought of laying in an empty room and falling asleep with nobody to hold while he ached for you was even worse.

“screw it” was the only thing he said as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his bag and keys, and slipped out of the motel room to head to his car.

the two hour car ride felt like forever, steves hand was gripping his wheel tightly while he shifted in his seat. he arrived at your place a little after two am and sat in his car for a long minute, looking up at your window and imagined you fast asleep. imagining what you looked like, imagining holding you. he got out of the car and made his way to the door quickly, using his key and slipping inside.

“baby?” he called out softly into the house, worried of frightening you. he continued calling it out as he opened the door to your room. he stopped as soon as it opened just watching you sleep. steve memorized the way the moonlight caught on the curve of your cheek, your hair fanned perfectly out on the pillow.

he kneeled beside the bed and carefully ran a hand through your hair. you stirred. “hey, baby. couldn’t stay away. needed to be near you” he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“stevie.. you’re here?” you were half asleep but you felt the smile creep onto your face. you reached out weakly to pull him into bed with you.

steve went down easy, desperate for your touch. “drove the whole way just.. thinking about you” you could feel how tense his body was next to you, how he was basically thrumming with need.

you ran your hand up his torso lightly until you made your way to the nape of his neck, threading your hand into his hair. “missed you tonight” you whispered it into the room and you watched his eyes flutter from the touch. he looked starved. he pressed his head further into your hand, then leaned into your lips.

the moment your lips met, a long groan left steves mouth, it sounded like it had been building for hours. his mouth was hot and hungry on yours, his tongue fucking into your mouth immediately. his hand gripped your hip, pulling your body closer to him.

“i’ve been going crazy, out of my mind.” he murmured against your lips in between kisses.

your fingers were already tightening in his hair, pulling him closer with the same desperation that was written all over him. steves fingers started to hook into your waistband of your pjs, brushing over the skin and tugging on them.

you let out a breathy “steve….”

“yeah, baby? gotta tell me what you want. need to hear you ask for it.” he gripped your jaw in his palm, tilting your face up to meet his, tightening his hold just slightly. you could feel him shifting next to you, pressing his erection against your thigh firmly before grinding it against the skin.

“i want you, i want you to fuck me. so bad” you whined, your cunt throbbing and dripping into your panties.

“you remember what i said, don’t you? told you id get you on your knees for me, get yourself ready on that dildo.”

you nodded eagerly, desperate for friction of any kind. desperate for feeling. desperate for release now that steve was real and in front of you. just his kisses made you horny. the way he sucked in your top lip, his nose nudging against your eyelid, his brows furrowing together as he concentrated.

steve ran a hand in your hair, his eyes locked on yours as he whispered “good. so good for me, aren’t you?”

you felt your entire body shudder, your breath hitching as he shifted to pull your soaked panties and pjs down your legs. his hands were everywhere on your bare legs, squeezing your thighs and skimming his palms up and down the back of your legs as you shifted to get onto all fours on the mattress.

he reached over to grab the dildo from the nightstand, large hand wrapping around it tightly. your fingers trembled as you reached for it, taking it from his hand and reaching under you to guide it towards your still slick entrance.

whimpers left your lips the second your pussy made contact with the cold silicone, body twitching at the feeling.

“go on baby, fuck yourself for me. show me how you do it when im not here”

you pushed just the tip inside you, feeling the excruciating stretch as it went deeper and deeper. a low moan came out, eyes rolling back as you rocked your hips back on the toy.

steve watched from behind you, completely mesmerized, before his hand shifted to his sweats and boxer band to yank them down just enough for his cock to spring free. the sight of you fucking yourself combined with the sounds of pleasure pushed him past his limit. the throbbing of his cock was now unbearable to ignore.

he shifted his body to kneel in front of you, his hand stroking his dick as he bit down on his plump lower lip. his cock was eye level with you now, leaking with pre-cum smeared all over the length of him. it was clear he had been ready for hours.

“open up, baby. c’mon. wider” your lips parted immediately as he guided the head of his cock past your lips. the second your lips closed around his tip, his hips involuntarily thrusted forward, forcing himself deeper down your throat as you continued to fuck into your pussy with the silicone.

your throat relaxed, allowing him to continue deeper as saliva seeped out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin. steve was long, and thick, you could feel every inch of him pulsing inside your mouth. steve groaned as soon when you moaned around him, running a hand into your hair to gather it, holding it back for you in his fist.

the sensation of being filled everywhere was almost too much, the fullness of it all made your head spin and your inner walls clamp down while your tongue swirled messily around steves cock.

“you like having your mouth full while you get your pussy stretched, don't you? you just love being used like this, huh, baby?” steve was panting now, you could tell he wanted more. he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to replace the toy that was stretching your pussy. but you knew in order to feel him, you’d have to cum first.

your hand sped up, moving the dildo faster in and out of you to chase your release that you knew was coming any second. a high whine left your lips that were still wrapped around steves cock, your back arching and body buckling on the bed as you clamped down on the silicone and soaked it with your cum.

steve immediately pulled out of your mouth, a thick strand of saliva connecting his glistening cock to your swollen lips.

“on your back, baby. need to be inside you so bad” steve wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore, his voice came out whinier than he wanted it to. he’d been horny for so long, desperate for the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him since he got on the phone.

the second you were on your back his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart to settle in the space between. “look at you. so wet and open f’me. aren’t you?”

your eyes were locked on his, panting and still shaking from your orgasm. “steve… please, i want you to fill me, please”

you watched as a smirk formed on his face and he reached back to pull his t shirt off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he knew how hot he was, he always stood there and let you look your fill because he knew how much you loved seeing steve shirtless. he had the perfect amount of chest hair across his chest that trailed all the way down towards his aching cock. your hands reached up to rest on his hips, running your hands over the skin of his soft tummy.

steve leaned forward, hovering over you before the thick head of his cock pressed against your entrance, his fingers now digging into your flesh as he entered you in one movement and began a brutal pace inside of you. slamming his cock into you repeatedly before he replaced it with a slow and deep grinding roll of his hips that pressed him impossibly deep.

it was an exquisite kind of agony, each thrust stretching you in a way the toy could never achieve. you could feel the thickness of him being squeezed by your oversensitive walls. each time he pulled back you felt a desperate emptiness that only lasted a few seconds before he was filling you again. your body always struggled to accommodate steves length, the tip of him nudged at a spongy spot deep inside you that sent jolts all throughout your nerves.

“god, baby…. always taking my cock so good. fuck- barely fucking fits” steve gritted his teeth as his hand moved to press down on your lower stomach, feeling how it’d bulge with every slow grind. the firm pressure of his hand pressing down made you gasp, the feeling amplifying how full you are.

your back arched up, eyes rolling back as you moaned continuously “mmmmmph, feels so good. steve.. fuck, im gonna-“ all your words were dissolving into breathy moans and gasps as your body reached its third orgasm. your legs trembling on the bed, body jolting with each motion of steves hips.

the sensation was immediately too much for steve. the oversensitivity of it all after he denied himself for hours sent him over the edge as he felt you clench around his thick cock.

steve pushed in deep and you felt his body still, then shudder as your pussy milked him, cum coating your insides. his cock pulsed inside of you over and over again before he leaned down on top of you to kiss your sweat dampened cheeks.

both of you were trembling and sensitive as you laid together before he slowly pulled out of you and he shifted to lay beside you, gathering you in his arms and brushing the stray hairs out of your face gently.

“you drive me crazy, you know? can’t even leave for three days without going insane.”

you smiled a little breathlessly against his chest, your fingers toying with the thick hair that rested there. “yeah? guess that means you can’t ever leave me again, hmm?”

steve brought his hand up to your jaw gently, tilting your head back to meet his eyes so he could press his lips to yours, murmuring with a soft smile on his face “oh i don’t plan to, baby”

-

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