𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐍, I HATE HIM 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 WEEKS, 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 YEARS, 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 TOO LONG
PAIRING older brothers best friend! steve x reader
SUMMARY in which you've had a crush on your older brother's best friend since you were kids. now grown up and returning home from college for the summer, bad decisions are made after you're forced into a motel together on a stormy night.
WARNINGS 18+ MDNI smut, she fell first he fell harder, fingering, unprotected p in v, spanking (like one time lmfao), dirty talk, nipple play, sweet stevie, close proximity, adult language, steve is 1-2 years older than reader
Steve Harrington had been in your house for as long as you can remember, that eventually after years, you stopped thinking of him as just your brother’s annoying friend who just so happened to be cute.
He existed naturally in the way he had become a part of the house itself like the way the kitchen light flickered above the stove your mother always nagged at your father to fix or that one warped floorboard outside your bedroom that always creaked.
Steve was just there. Mostly because of his emotionally negligent home life. He would always be draped over the couch with your brother with his stupid spiderman printed socked feet he'd get embarrassed about, kicked onto the coffee table. He would rummage through the cabinets for snacks he didn't ask for permission to eat or laugh way too loudly at midnight while your mother had yelled from upstairs for the boys to keep it down.
You grew up around the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne that trailed through hallways after basketball games. Around the low rumble of his prized BMW pulling into the driveway to pick up your brother. His stupidly bright smile and the way he effortlessly moved through rooms had always irked you the most.
When you were little, Steve treated you in that affectionately dismissive way most young boys do with their best friend's siblings.
"Move, airhead," "Quit following us," "Tell your brother he still owes me five bucks!"
There had never been cruelty in his voice or irritation enough to hurt you. Sometimes when your brother got irritated with you or ignored you, Steve didn’t and instead gave you a sense of understanding.
At ten years old, you were sitting cross legged in the living room, watching the two of them play video games on your brother's Atari for hours. When Steve handed you a third controller after your brother complained you were annoying, you pretended your heart didn't skip a beat. Despite being terrible at every game, Steve let you play anyway.
At twelve years old, you had scraped your knee badly against asphalt when trying to skateboard down the Harrington's driveway after overhearing Steve mention he thought girls who skate were 'cool.' You remember sitting on the pavement blinking back tears while your brother had cackled and Steve crouched down in front of you with a sigh.
"Why are you always getting yourself hurt." He'd said, his hands gently pushing your sock down to your ankle. "Were you trying to kill yourself?"
You had only shrugged out of embarrassment.
Even then, he had disappeared into his house before coming back with bandages and peroxide. The smell had been medicinal in the hot summer air and he'd sat cleaning the blood from your knee.
At fifteen years old, your crush had become something incurable. The year Steve had started driving. The year he started showing up on the driveway in his burgundy BMW with one hand lazily hooked over the steering wheel and his sunglasses hiding half his face while girls from school had prayed to get his attention. It'd also been the age silly jealousy had warped your heart.
You knew Steve Harrington was someone you'd never get close to touching. He belonged to everybody and that was the problem.
At sixteen years old, every girl in town had a story about him, but also forgave him too easily when he had reached that stage in his life where he'd been known as the charming, wealthy, party boy who knew his way around. Eventually, he'd calmed down despite having the certain cockiness to him you'd always known.
But there were fragile moments where the performance would slip.
Late nights when your brother had gone upstairs to watch TV, Steve would sink further into the couch with an exhausted look on his face. Sometimes your mother would hand him leftovers wrapped in foiled. He would just smile with gratitude and pull her in for a hug.
The nights he stayed over were your favorite.
One time you woke up at two in the morning for water. When you walked downstairs, you would find him knocked out on the couch with one arm thrown his face. He'd always been such a restless sleeper.
Looking back, maybe you had started loving him in those moments, not just a silly crush.
Deep down, you knew it was because you knew a version of him nobody else knew, a version that was just him and not King Steve.
You knew the way he got quieter when something bothered him, the way he tapped his fingers when anxious, and the way he hated going home more than he would ever admit out loud.
By your junior year of college, at twenty years old, you had gotten good at convincing yourself you were over Steve Harrington. Distance helped, especially when Purdue University was four hours from Hawkins.
Classes, new friends, late night walks across campus with music playing in your headphones, and boys who flirted with you had given you experiences that you almost forgot about a version of yourself that doodled in her notebook over a boy with big brown eyes.
Steve had become someone easier to manage when he had only existed mostly through rushed stories from your brother on phone calls.
Steve got promoted. Steve got into some fight at a bar and lost. Steve was seeing some girl. Steve bought a new car.
He couldn't touch your life anymore.
Finals week had exhausted everyone by the time summer break finally arrived. Outside your dorm window, students drag bags down sidewalks, the sky gray and threatening rain. You can only hope the weather doesn't worsen.
The telephone begins to ring on your nightstand. Walking over and removing it from the hook, you wedge it between your shoulder.
"Hello?" You answer distracted, struggling to zip your duffel bag.
"Your brother's an asshole."
You freeze, stomach fluttering. His voice was still able to do that to you. "Well, hello to you to. You sound so surprised." You managed.
"I am," Steve replied. "He told me he forgot he promised to pick you up and he already made plans, which is now my problem somehow."
"Sooo, you're coming instead?"
"You're such a gentleman," You croon, tossing your duffel bag aside. "Will you help me with my bags too?'
"You know I will." "I'm calling from this diners telephone box, had to take a bathroom break because the drive is so damn long."
"Tell me about it. Why do you think I wanted someone else to do the driving for me in the first place?"
"You sneaky little witch. Just using people aren’t you?" He comments, making you laugh. "Anyways, I'm like twenty minutes away. Try not to bring your whole dorm with you."
The line clicks dead before you can answer and place the phone back into it's rightful place.
Immediately, you hate yourself for checking your reflection in the mirror to check your hair. On instinct, you reach for your lip gloss and swipe it against your lips.
This was so ridiculous. You were twenty, not fourteen anymore, yet you were hyperaware of everything about you all because Steve Harrington was about to drive four hours alone with you.
By the time you have your bags ready and make your way outside after checking out your dorm, you spot the BMW parked against the pavement. Girls passing turned to look as Steve stepped out from the driver's seat as rain began to fall. Some things never changed did they?
Your stomach drops at the sight of him. He looked different, less boyishly pretty and now more manly. His shoulders broader beneath his dark blue crewneck and fitting his arms just right.
Steve uses one hand to push back his damp hair from his forehead and his eyes land on you, making you freeze. He smirks, calling out, "Hey! You coming?"
You roll your eyes, walking over. "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."
"Sorry, traffic backed up from the rain." He frowns and takes a quick glance at his watch. "If we go now we should be fine though."
He takes the largest bag from you, tossing it over his shoulder, before you can argue. Steve opens the trunk, tucking in the bag and reaching a hand out in gesture for you to hand him the rest.
"Your roommates going to miss you at all?" He asks, shutting the trunk and locking it with the keys.
"Mmm, yeah I think so. One of them cried."
He lets out a low whistle, "Damn. You breaking hearts at Purdue now? I thought you were sweet?"
"Shut up." You snort. "I doubt she'll send a postcard anyways. She only used me for homework answers in statistics."
"No worries, we'll have a better summer without people like that. Like old times." He grins in the familiar way you knew.
Steve opens the passenger door and flashes you a wink. "After you."
You just smile, sitting down and adjusting the seat to your height as he shuts the door behind you, jogging around the hood of the car before the rain could get you both anymore wet.
Steve slides into the driver's seat, starting the heater to warm up. He inserts the keys into the ignition, giving it a couple turns, and sighs. "You hungry?"
"Ummm, a little." You confess.
"There's leftover fries in the bag from the diner if you want some" He turns over the seat as he backs the car out of is spot, managing to grab the paper bag sitting behind. "They got kinda wet though."
You eye the soaking wet paper bag and scrunch your nose, "What the hell, Steven. You're disgusting."
"What! They're still good!"
"Soggy fries are good? Would you eat those?" You deadpan, raising a brow.
There's a pause of silence until, "...Nah. Maybe you're right." He coughs and clears his throat. "We'll grab some dinner in a couple hours in the next town. Promise."
You laugh despite yourself and turn your head to look outside the window, watching as the campus begins to empty out, students hugging goodbye and loading up cars.
Steve glances at your direction briefly as you begins to make a turn out of the campus, "You going to miss it?"
You hum, pondering for a moment. Sure, you'd been homesick when you'd started, but overtime you'd found another place and friends to call home. Out the window, you watch the buildings blur past as you drive farther. Finally, you admit, "Yeah, more than I thought I would. I'll probably try and make plans for my friend Beth to come down to Hawkins."
"Do you like being away?" He asks, one hand resting loosely on the steering wheel while the other tapped against his thigh. "From Hawkins, I mean."
Truthfully, no. You liked being able to ignore your feelings, but you didn't like not being able to communicate with loved ones mostly through mail and telephone.
"I like..." You stop to carefully consider your words. "being somewhere where nobody knows every single thing about me. So, no and yes."
"Yeah, that sounds nice. I don't blame you." Steve gives a faint smile.
The roads begin to stretch longer as buildings become fields then empty highways, Steve cautiously keeping distance from other cars.
You blow a puff of air, bored, reaching into the dashboard to search through Steve's collection of cassette tapes. Steve catches you from the corner of his eyes. He clicks his tongue, "Hey, you thief. What do you think you're doing?"
"Playing music?" You snip as if it's obvious. "It's too quiet in here that it's going to drive me insane."
"Is my own voice not enough for you?" He mockingly pouts but snatches the cassette of your choice out of your hand, inserting it into the player of the radio.
"You'll never be Bruce Springsteen, sorry to tell you."
"Are you still seeing that girl?" You ask, trying to sound casual.
Steve looked confused, "What girl?"
"The one Anthony mentioned. Blonde, brown eyes, in STEM..." You explain, listing of the traits your older brother had mentioned over the phone last Winter. You remember hooking up with some guy afterwards.
He huffs a laugh, "Oh. No."
"What do you mean no?" You press.
"That lasted like two months. It's been long done." He says casually as if it had been nothing. You truly thought he'd liked her, even if she'd been one of many girlfriends that wouldn't work out.
"What happened? I thought you liked her?"
He pursed his lips, "I mean, yeah she was nice."
Steve seemed almost reluctant, like there was more to the story than he wanted to give.
"And that's it." He sighs. "Look, I could give a thousand of excuses of why it didn't work but I can't besides saying I just wasn't feeling anything. Nice isn't enough and I didn't want to waste her time."
You'd be lying if you said you were disappointed at the fact his love life had once again failed. You're a horrible and selfish person, you think.
"Plus, I think I've made too much mistakes doing that in the past. It wouldn't be fair, y'know?"
"Growing up, Harrington?"
You stick your tongue out playfully before resuming your session of staring out the window in distraction of your nerve wracking thoughts and the fact Steve was sitting a foot away.
Shivering, the feel goosebumps rise on your arms and you rub your hands against them in hope to ease.
Steve seems notice and frowns, glimpsing at you before turning back to the road. "Are you still cold?"
"Liar," He chuckles. Turning the heater on with the dial, he reaches his arm behind his seat afterwards, grabbing hold of a folded up blanket and tosses it to you.
"Oh, no, no, Steve. You don't have--" You reassure, holding your hands up.
"I know, it's okay." He cuts you off. "Just give it back when you're done. We both know you're a thief."
The droplets of ran pounds against the windshield, the dark clouds swirling in the sky as thunder erupts threateningly. It stirs fear in your chest, heart picking up its pace.
"Shit, it's getting bad." Steve points out. Trying to ease the mood, he jokes. "Think some force of nature is trying to kill us?"
"I don't know about me, but maybe just you. I hope the lightning picks you over me once we get out." You sass.
His mouth is gaped in shock. Finally, he says under his breath, "Psycho."
You try to focus on the music the next couple of minutes, but you can’t stand the silence between the two of you.
After years, you always want to know every single detail about him, to hear him talk about the special things his life and what he has going for him.
Every time you hope it’s something good. It’s all he’s ever deserved.
"How's work? Aren't you doing this whole coaching gig?"
"Don't forget sex ed teacher on the side. But, yeah, it's great so far." He seems to light up, happy you asked. "Really great."
He switches lanes before he continued, "For so long I was so confused and didn't know what I wanted, but now? I don't think I've been happier. Sure, my dad thinks the pay is shit, but at least I'm doing something with my life now."
“I think it’s good, Steve. You’re starting somewhere and I think it fits you perfectly.”
He’s shy then and goes quiet. You think the conversation is done with until:
"I- I really want to try college again. Get a degree in physical education. I know, it probably sounds stupid. I slacked so much in High School. I cared too much about the wrong things, now I'm paying for it."
Your heart breaks at his self deprecation. He’s always struggled with his self esteem underneath all that confidence he paraded around with. Deep down, he just wanted to be worth something in anothers eyes.
"It's not silly, not at all." You study him, staring at the slope of his nose down to the shadow of stubble along his jaw. "A lot of people lose their way too like you did, and you found your way back. You're trying and I think that's enough to be proud of, Stevie."
Steve gives you a quick look of shock, blood rushing to his cheeks.
"Thanks." He coughs before the corner of his mouth quirks up. "You're still holding on to that nickname? Jeez, you don't change."
"It reminds me of Fleetwood, it's cute!" You protest.
"Okay, then." He simply laughs.
"The more you hate it, the more I'm going to keep using it."
Rain slammed against the windshield so violently that Steve had to lean forward, squinting his eyes to get a good look at the road. The wipers moved back and forth as the highway stretched ahead, the only thing visible being the headlights illuminating the road and the flashes of lightning in the sky.
Suddenly, the car swerves slightly, making you gasp. Before your brain can process, Steve's arm is bracing against your chest and pushing you back against the seat.
"Fucking hell," He curses, glaring daggers at the truck that zooms past. Steve removes his arm and asks, "You okay?"
Placing a hand over your chest, you nod. "Shit, yeah. It happened so quick, I wasn't expecting it."
Steve hums in agreement and directs his attention back to the road where water pools and the wind starts push hard enough against the BMW that your stomach hurts.
"Damn it," He mutters, directing the car to pull off to the next exit that definitely wasn't part of your plans. "We're not going to be able to make it back tonight. I'm not trying to have us soaring off a cliff when there's idiots who can't drive."
You sit up straighter, frowning, "What're we doing then if not going home?"
Steve rubs a hand across his jaw tiredly, "There should be a motel like ten minutes off this exit. We can grab food before we get a room. We'll just leave in the morning when this calms down."
Calm down, you think. Sharing a room with Steve Harrington sounds terrifying in theory, but what other choice did you have? This was the practical choice, you'd be stupid if you let your feelings get in the way of your safety.
"Unless you'd rather we soar off the cliff to our deaths?" Steve jokes in attempt to lighten the mood.
You wave a hand in dismissal and laugh, "Whatever. Yeah, the motel should be fine."
"And if we get murdered? We'll just haunt Anthony and tell him this was mostly his fault."
The motel, when you arrived after thirty minutes of driving in pouring rain and a quick fast food pick up, was old but comfortable looking enough that you were able to feel relieved.
The sign buzzed as streams of water poured off the roof. The parking lot was nearly empty except for Steve's BMW and an old truck. Inside, the lobby air smelled faintly like burnt coffee and mildew.
"I'm scared Steve," You whisper, eyeing your surroundings as Steve signed the check in receipt. "What if we get murdered like you said--"
"Okay, first of all, I was joking." Steve says, taking the room key from the old woman behind the desk, who didn't bother to look up from her crossword puzzle. "Second, you watch way too much movies. I think they're starting to rot your brain."
"Have you seen 'Psycho?' That could--"
"Relax!" Steve gives you an incredulous look as if he's unsure whether to laugh. He grabs the greasy paper bag from you. "Let's go to our room, eat, shower, and before you know it you'll feel fine. C'mon."
When you and Steve walk outside and up the rickety stairs to unlock your room, you’re met with the sight of a muted floral bedspread and a television sitting on the dresser. One bed.
"Shit, I asked for a two bed." Steve scoffs and tosses your duffel on the bed along with his overnight bag. Thankfully he came prepared based on weather before he left. "You want me to go ask for a new room?"
Not wanting to complain, you shake your head nervously, "No, this is fine."
Steve just nods, seating himself down at the edge of the bed with a long exhale. You stand still, unable to move from your spot. Maybe it was because there was no brother nearby, no parents, and no friends, but just the two of you in such a vulnerable space.
Steve yawns with a stretch, "You can go ahead and shower first."
You nod, practically running to the shower. The bathroom fills with steam as you turn the faucet, undressing and stepping inside.
You find yourself standing beneath the hot water longer necessary, letting the heat unknot the stiffness aching in your shoulders. Your thoughts felt loud. This is ridiculous, nothing is happening and is going to happen. Steve is Steve, your brother's best friend who you've spent majority of your life trying not to embarrass yourself around. You're going to go back in there and act normal. You'll be back on the road before you know it.
When you finally emerged from the bathroom, the sound of the microwave beeps and you smell the delicious scent of fries and burgers. Steve turns his head, pulling both yours and his food out on to plates.
"You took forever. Were you swimming in there?" He says, handing you your plate before he goes to sit cross legged on the bed against the headboard.
"You're so dramatic, it was only thirty minutes." You join him and take a bite out of your burger.
"Thirty minutes too long," He quips, grabbing the remote and flipping through the television channels. "So, what are we in the mood for, Seinfeld or Beverly Hills? Take your pick."
"Seinfeld. I don't have the attention span for dramatics right now," You reply, stealing one of Steve's fries.
"Seinfeld it is," Steve muses and throws the remote away.
The tv plays on the next twenty minutes as the two of you eat, the episode plot being one of the character's apartments getting robbed, leading to an argument over who gets to move into a new apartment. You weren't paying attention much if you were being honest, more focused on the heat of his body next to you and trying not to seem obviously affected.
"Y'know..." Steve starts and you recognize his familiar tone of mischief. "this episode kind of reminds me of all the arguments you and Anthony have."
You turn to look at him, raising a brow. "Yeah because he's hardheaded."
"Must be a genetic thing." He muses, not turning his gaze away from the screen.
You gasp, smacking his arm. "Don't compare me to him! He's ten times worse than I'll ever be."
"Oh trust me, I believe you." He ponders for a moment before breaking into laughter. "Shit, remember when he jumped off the roof to backflip into my parent's pool?"
In fact, you do. It was one of your favorite embarrassing moments to blackmail your older brother with. He'd been bawling all the way to the emergency room while your mother laid it into him.
"Yes! He's was so stupid. I even told him it probably wasn't a good idea, but no, he insisted he'd look like those superheros from those comics you guys liked so much." You scoffed.
"Man, my mom was so pissed."
"Well, you technically encouraged him on, so I'd be too." He only laughs at your words, giving you a small nudge.
The conversation from there unraveled from one memory to another before you knew it as time passed. From middle school disasters of your brother getting into ridiculous fights, terrible haircuts you cried your eyes out over and threatened to never step outside again, and to Steve accidentally lighting fireworks too close to the garage one Fourth of July, the two of you laugh as you bond over the past.
Steve remembered everything which you couldn't decide was good or bad, especially since he remembered the most embarrassing moments like the time he and Anthony walked in on you kissing your James Spader poster in High School.
"You got so red that you yelled at us to get out," Steve cackled while laying on his side, hand rested under his chin, full attention now only on you.
"I was 15! That was traumatizing! How would you feel if someone walked in on you and found your old magazine collection under your bed."
"Nope," You say, popping the p.
The both of you watch about three more episodes before trash is discarded in the can next to the bed and somewhere along the way the lamp on the nightstand is turned off, the room lit up only by the blue screen of the television.
"Anyone special in your life?" Steve randomly asks, sounding almost playful if you ignored the weird tone. "Only fair I ask you since you interrogated me earlier."
"Pft, no not really. Robin keeps trying to set me up with this guy though."
"Oh." There's a weird pause. "Are you gonna...see him or anything?"
You scrunch your nose and turn away from the TV. "Uhh I don't know? Why?"
Steve's teeth a clenched, body going rigid. He scoots away to give some space and now you know something is deeply wrong. "No reason just-- I don't know. Maybe you should let her."
"Steve, I don't even know the guy."
"So? If you like him then you like him" He shrugs, resting his weight by laying his palms flat on the bed.
Since when did he dictate what you do or don't do with your life and your romantic life at that.
You stand abruptly and cross your arms over your chest. “Why the hell are you so mad? I never even said I liked him.”
"Then why are you acting weird!" You yell, wincing. You don't need the owner marching down here and banging at the door.
He doesn't answer, turning back to the television instead. You know he's just trying to avoid the confrontation of whatever was going on in that head of his. You hated how stubborn he could be.
Fine, he wants to act that way? You'll let him.
"I need air." You announce and start to head towards the door, hand already turning the knob.
The seems to alert him because he snaps his heads, face falling. "Wait- shit- no. I'm sorry."
“Leave me alone.” You snapped.
"I don't know what's up with me, seriously." He pleads. You can tell he's apologetic and not just saying mindless sorrys just to get you to shut up. "Please, I'm sorry. It's raining"
You want to be mad and leave him alone in the dark, probably go to the nearest vending machine and grab a snack, sit somewhere so the rain doesn't soak you.
But you don't have it in you.
"C'mere." Steve said quietly, making your stomach drop.
He gestures with his hand, sitting upright now, facial expression calm and giving you the opportunity to say no. Except, you don't want to.
Your body is moving before you can stop yourself, sitting yourself back on the bed, scooting closer to him and sitting on your knees, brushing against his own. The feeling of his leg against you is enough to stir excitement deep in your belly.
Neither of you speak, the only sound in the room being your breathing, the rain tapping against the window with the occasional crackle of lightning, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears.
Was this actually happening or were you deluded?
“It’s…it’s okay, Stevie.” You say shakily.
“I just get…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, chewing his lip.
His fingers brush against your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek. You shiver at the contact. "What are you thinking?" He murmurs.
"That--" You swallowed. "that I don't know if I'm dreaming or not."
"I'm right here," He hums, his eyes gazing down at your lips. He nibbles at him bottom lip as if he were fighting temptation. "are you?"
Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth and you nod, "Yeah...I am, Steve."
His lips slowly catch your own, molding together as you gasp against his, before slowly letting yourself melt into his warmth. Your hand catches against the front of his shirt as the kiss deepens.
It was warm and dizzying, so different and overwhelming compared to fantasies you'd imagined over the years.
You'd been completely wrong about Steve being a great kisser. He was momentous and no man you'd been with before could compare to the way his hands drifted down to your waist, drawing you closer onto his lap.
Steve rubs a hand up and down your spine, sneaking a hand under your top. His hands are warm against the coolness of your skin, his whole presence inviting.
His hand leaves and he pulls at the hem of your top. "Off." He orders, no questioning in his tone.
Inclined to listen, you throw your tank over your head, the air hitting your naked breasts and torso immediately.
You feel sheepish when Steve's hazel eyes unapologetically stare hard at your breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. A soft sound leaves his swollen lips as he brings his hands up to give an experimental squeeze.
When you let a whimper slip, unable to contain it, Steve smiles. "So fucking pretty. Are they sensitive, hm?"
You bite the inside of your cheek, wanting to play around a bit just to see what he'd do, so, you shake your head. "No."
"Really? Not even if I..." He mused and pinches your nipples, causing you to jolt. "do this?"
"Shit!" You're so wet by anything he does, even a little bit of touching your damn tits had your panties sticking to your pussy. "Want more...please."
"Yeah?" Steve peppers kisses against your jaw and makes his way down to your neck, chest, and ending at your sternum. "Gonna suck these pretty tits then."
You suck in a sharp breath when his lips wrap around your right bud while his hand teases the left, thumb rolling it in between his thumb and index. He gives a couple of suckles and flicks his tongue against your right, moaning. Steve could cum in his pants right here right now by simply doing this, nothing else.
You mewl, your fingers gliding into his brunette strands of hair and tugging them hard. Steve hisses at the pain but makes no move to stop you, giving your nipple a scolding bite before moving to your left one to give it the same treatment.
If you weren't so distracted, you'd be nonstop apologizing.
Steve moves his right hand, exploring down your navel into your pj shorts. They come off and you're left in just your panties. Giving one last harsh suck to your breast, he pulls off to stare you deep in the eyes, his pupils dilated, "You're so beautiful..." Steve traces the outline of your clothed pussy with his fingers, ghosting over your sensitive clit. You shiver and dig your nails into his shoulder. "prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You're just saying that," You giggle, avoiding eye contact as he takes off your panties, a your wetness clinging to it before snapping.
His thick brows furrow and says sternly, "I'm not. You know why?"
"Because," He starts, teasing his middle and ring finger against your hole before dipping them inside with an obscene wet sound. Your breath stutters at feeling of them beginning to move in and out of you with practiced skill. "besides you obviously being fucking gorgeous, you're also the same person who has the biggest heart I know."
"Th- that's-- fuh-- ckk-- you." You moan, eyes shutting closed. He spreads his fingers, scissoring your walls and stretching them wide.
"Not at all. You? You look at people with the kindest eyes and care about everybody, you always have. You remember the smallest details people tell you, you sit with them when they're hurting, you're funny without trying," He laughs, finding your sweet spot and prodding at it. "and you make every room warmer when you walk in. I mostly like how you cry over the silliest movies."
"I do all that...?" You slur.
"Mhm. Dunno how you see the beauty in everyone but miss it all in yourself."
His praise hits you like a truck and you can practically feel a heartbeat within your cunt, your walls squeezing tightly around his fingers, not wanting him to leave.
Needing more, you begin to lift your hips up and down, bouncing and steadying your weight by grabbing on to his shoulders.
“Yeah, that’s it. Ride my fingers justtt like that.” He coos, meeting every roll of your hips with a curl of his fingers against your walls.
Your lashes flutter against your cheeks and you let out a low whine. Cunt sucking in his fingers, you lift the weight of your body up and down, up and down, attempting to reach the peak of pleasure you so desperately longed for.
“Steve. Mfmh…feels so good.”
“What does honey? C’mon, tell me.” He hums, pressing wet kisses against the nape of your throat until he elicits a whimper out of you, confirming that he’s found that certain spot that turns you into mush.
“Your fingers,” You pant, grinding harder down on his hand. “so thick and so deep in me."
You let out a ragged whine at the pressure slowly building up deep in your lower belly.”
Steve groans, smacking your ass in response. “Love that you talk so fucking nasty.” He begins to speed up, the pads of his index and middle pressing deep inside you. You arch your back with a cry. “You close? I can feel it with how tight this pretty wet pussy is getting.”
You nod profusely, wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face in it with a moan. Your hips and thighs begin to ache, your movements beginning to slow.
“Yeah, mhm- but can’t- ” You said, grabbing Steve’s wrist pleadingly. “Steve…”
“You’re already tired, honey?” He clicks his tongue in faux sympathy, but nonetheless holds you down to force you still, thrusting his fingers up into you. “Well, that can’t do. Can’t leave my pretty girl hanging.”
"'m cumming, m' cumming, oh fuckkkk--" The second his thumb hits your clit, rubbing firm circles, your orgasm crashes over you like a dam and you cum with a broken moan, your words spilling out.
He hasn't even fucked you properly yet and you already feel dumbed out.
Steve’s fingers continue for a minute to help you ride it out before he pulls them out, slipping them into his mouth. "So good."
You lift your head from his shoulder, mouth dropping in shock as he sucks your arousal clean from him. The heat of embarrassment hits you and you feel inclined to look away from the dirty sight yet you can’t pull away.
His fingers leave his mouth with a pop and he moans in satisfaction. A dirty part of you secretly wishes he’d shove them in your mouth.
Steve shifts you off his lap and lays you down on your back oh so gently, kissing you in between words, “Trust me,” kiss. “I wanna get a real taste but,” kiss. “need to feel you around me real fucking bad.”
He pauses, pulling away to look at you, "Only if you want to though. I don't want to pressure you or anything--"
You pull him by the collar of his shirt for another kiss and he instantly smiles into it, tongue sliding against your bottom lip for permission. Parting your lips, his tongue slips inside, the wet muscle flicking against your own as it explores your mouth.
You both pull apart, the two of you breathing heavily. A string of saliva being the only thing connecting the two of you now.
"I want to." You say finally, staring up at the man you've yearned so long for, the man who'd always been so kind to you.
A grin tugs at Steve's lips and he sits back on his knees to pull his shirt off by the hem, revealing patches of hair on his chest leading down to the delicious happy trail down his soft tummy into his pants (he always complained he didn't have abs, but if anything you thought it was the hottest thing).
You note the thick bulge restrained by his jeans and suddenly you feel intimidated.
You'd heard the rumors before, rumors that made you pout in jealousy at one point in your life where you felt you could never know Steve in such a vulnerable way. You wouldn't believe yourself a year ago if you knew you'd be having sex with your older brother's best friend.
The metal of his belt clinks and he yanks the belt out of the loops and pulling down his jeans. After his boxers are off, your eyes widen at the sight of the thick hard cock slapping against his stomach.
Steve grunts, giving it a couple tugs. Like you suspected, the dark patches of hair trail down to the pubic hair tousled around his cock. It's long in length and incredibly girthy, the veins running up until the pink swollen head leaking with precum.
The thought of him fucking your throat and guiding you by your hair while praising you with sweet nothings while you gag, turns you on more than it should and you clench your thighs together.
He takes notice of your nerves and frowns, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" You say too quickly.
He shakes his head, "I wanna make this as comfortable for you as possible, so I need to know what's" He gently taps your forehead. "going on in that head of yours. Okay, honey?"
You're quiet, unsure whether it's such a miniscule thing to point out in the first place. Giving in, you mumble, "You're just...huge."
Steve blinks before he bursts into a fit of laughter, his eyes crinkling. You're absolutely mortified. "Don't laugh at me! You told me to tell you."
He stalls his laughter and is immediately crawling on top of you, brows furrowed in concern. "No, no, I'm not laughing at you, honey. I'm more so with..." His eyes flick down to his obvious erection. "the situation, I guess."
"...Is it even going to fit?"
He huffs a laugh, leaning in to give your forehead a quick kiss, "I'll make it, don't worry."
"You trust me, honey?" He asks one more time.
Exhaling, you nod. "Yeah, yeah, I do."
Suddenly, his face drops and he curses, "Fuck, I don't have protection." He drags a hand through his hair. "I'm so sorry--"
"It's okay," You smile. "I have an IUD, should be fine."
He pauses, processing the information before returning your smile. "Alright then, you're full of surprises aren't you?"
Nudging your legs apart with his knee, he readjusts and rests his left arm beside your head and uses his free hand to wrap around his dick, guiding the swollen tip to your leaking entrance.
He slides it up and down your slit before dragging it up to your clit, slapping it firmly a couple times, sending a jolt of pleasure.
"Put it in!" You complained.
He taunts, "I thought good girls were patient?"
"I am," You pout, bucking your hips up. "But it doesn't mean I don't want you to fuck me sensele--"
You're unable to finish your sentence, words breaking into a high pitched moan at the feeling of his huge cock intruding, the hot skin of him filling you whole as he bottoms out.
"Just- just move, please."
Steve starts off slow, moving his hips back and thrusting forward with a couple shallow thrusts before he grinds against you deeper than his fingers had been able to reach.
Picking up the pace, he draws his cock out all the way to barely the tip and slamming back in to begin a series of devoted thrusts.
Mewling, you slide your hands to his back, nails scratching against the skin of his shoulder blades. You tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him as you shamelessly moan. (The both of you should be expecting a complaint from the motel owner later...)
He leans down to lick the base of your neck, tongue flat as he drags up to a stop and sucking multiple spots, marks blooming as proof of the passionate night that will soon become a memory.
You feel grief knowing this will be over in just a few minutes, but you won't worry about that now, you'll just make the most of it.
The bed creaks under your weight, the rhythm of him fucking into you relentless with the disgustingly filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin.
"So goddamn tight and wet," He breathes into your neck. "this all for me?"
"Yes, yes," You urge him on, bucking your hips up to meet his thrusts and he moans. "all for you, Steve- mmf fuck."
"Yeahhh?" You can feel him smile against your skin, giving a couple more kisses before pulling back to get a good look at you. "All mine?"
Word coils at your throat, unable to fully get anything out besides broken sobs.
"C'mon baby. Talk to me like the good girl I know you are. Need to hear how good you feel as I fuck this tight pussy."
"Love you," You drawl out with a whine, squeezing your eyes shut. "Love you so much, Steve."
Suddenly, his hips come to a stop and you're left in confusion until it hits you. Oh no.
Eyes snapping wide, your palm slaps against your mouth as you stare up at Steve.
He looks like he’s seen a ghost, eyes wide, hair tousled in a mess, and he’s so still you can’t tell if he’s currently present in the moment or debating on packing and leaving you stranded in the motel.
You need him to say something, anything. Anything to reassures you didn’t destroy everything.
Blinking back tears threatening to spill, you start, “Steve—“
"You love me?" He whispers.
He’s going to curse you out, call you disgusting and a perverted loser who’d been pathetically yearning for someone that knew he wasn’t her own.
"I'm so, so, so sorry Steve. Please just forget I said anything, I didn't mean to--"
He shuts you up with his lips crashing against yours and his thrusts resuming, the wet slap of his balls mixed with your arousal against the fat of your ass.
You cry out in surprise, legs immediately wrapping around his waist as his cock drives hard and fast in to you.
His thrusts grow frantic at your words, his free hand sliding under your lower back to lift your hips high as he keeps your grip on your right thigh, driving his swelling cock deeper. He kisses you sloppily, swallowing your whimpers as he whines against your mouth.
His thrusts grow messy and his hips stutter. Breaking away from you, a groan rattles through his chest, "Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck-- I can't hold it--"
With every hit of the bulbous tip against your g-spot, you feel closer and closer to the edge.
"Shh, I know, baby," His jaw is tight, attempting to restrain himself from finishing before you. "I got you, I got you. 'M close too...tell me where you want it, 'kay?"
"Shittt-- inside." You gasp.
He moans loudly at your words, eyes fluttering, that he almost came right there. "Ah, fuckkk. You sure?"
Instead of answering, you press the heels of your feet against the dip of his back, pushing him forward and deeper into you, profusely nodding.
He doesn't have to ask again and jackhammering his hips against you until finally the band deep inside you snaps and you cum around him with a high pitched whine, arching your back.
Ropes of cum fill you as he releases with a groan, stilling his hips deep inside you and grinding deep against you to ride both of your orgasms out.
"Fucking love you so much," He pants, kissing you from your cheeks, forehead, jaw, and finally planting several on your swollen lips. "love you, love you, love you..."
Your heart does a flip. Did he truly mean it? Your mind had barely begun to return back to it's fully conscious state after mind blowing sex.
Trembles coursing through your legs, they weakly fall from Steve's waist.
It takes a minute for Steve to gain enough energy to pull his cock out before breathlessly slumping the weight of his body next to you. He pulls you against his chest without hesitation, so naturally that you don't know how to move forward from here.
"Did you..." You finally say as his free hand rubs up and down your thigh soothingly. "did you mean what you said?"
He stiffens, "What do you mean?" He knows exactly what you mean.
"Of course I meant it," He smiles when your finger tips graze against his face, dragging against his moles delicately. "meant every single word. You're everything, y'know?"
You stop your movements and blink.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He laughs awkwardly.
He groans, dragging a hand up his face. "Like- I don't know! Like you regret it or something."
"No, no, no," You shake your head, internally cursing at your own dumb silence for making him think otherwise. "that's not it, it's just that...it's just I'm having a hard time processing what just happened."
"Besides the obvious?" He raises a brow.
Immediately, you smack his chest and he just chuckles, grabbing your wrist and giving it a brief kiss.
"You know what I mean you big dummy." You roll your eyes before your tone grows serious, almost shy. “Just…did we do it because…?”
Finally understanding where you were going, his brows furrow sternly and he shakes his head, “Stop. Baby, I don’t want you thinking we had sex because of some storm or because we got stuck in a motel.”
Your pulse quickens. “Okay…”
“Like I said, it’s because I love you and have been for months now.”
His words hit you and you stop, thinking you misheard, “Wait. What? Months???”
“Ah…” Steve’s cheeks grow hot with blood and he’s no longer looking at you now, distracted with the ceiling fan spinning.
You’d assumed this was a very recent thing, not something that had been going on for the past year directly under your nose.
"Um," He coughs. "around Christmas."
“Christmas???” You gasp loudly and he cringes. “That was like six months ago!”
You can’t help the stupid smile that grows on your face and you laugh, wrapping your arms around him and snuggling your face into his chest deeper, looking up at him. "Aww, Stevie you had a crush on me? Is that why you got all like that a bit ago?" You then pause, furrowing your eyebrows. "Are you actually being serious? If you're messing with me I'll shave your head while you're asleep."
"Brat." He smacks your ass and you squeal, kicking him in the leg, causing him to grunt. "And duh, I'm serious."
He seems to ponder, sentimental at the memory of snow falling and your family gathered together when he'd been invited to celebrate with like every year. "I realized when you and Anthony were making the stupid gingerbread houses. Man, you're so competitive. You begged me to be the judge of who made the better house and everything. When I said you, you were so happy over something so silly and I just...I don't know, I guess it hit me."
You remember. You'd layered your house in pastel blue and pink frosting with gumdrops sprinkled across. You insisted yours was the epitome of a perfect house compared to Anthony's absolute mess that had no theme nor color coordination. So, you'd look to Steve who'd been wearing that sweater of his he'd looked ridiculously good in, with big eyes and hands clasped together.
"I had no idea." You whisper, running a hand through his messy hair. "I honestly thought you didn't care, that I had some stupid little crush for years."
"Years?" He asks in genuine confusion.
"Don't tell me you didn't know."
"No, swear." He then laughs. "Wow, years?"
Now you feel embarrassed, regretting you even said anything in the first place. "Shut up, Steven."
He gives a half smirk and flicks your forehead, "It's okay, I'm not judging. Just took us some time, that's all."
Moments pass and it’s silent but comfortable, easy enough to ease into together as you sigh into his chest, hiding your face into it as he holds you close.
If you could, you’d melt together and become one with him.
“Fuck.” Steve curses. “He’s going to kill me.”
You freeze, realizing what he means. Not wanting to worry about the issue of your brother at hand, you scoff. “So?”
“So?” He says exasperated, hiding his face in your hair, voice miserable. “So, he might actually kill me. Do you realize that?”
With confessions and sex, you wonder what’s the next step in the both of yours complicated relationship you were sure wouldn’t be exposed to anyone outside the two of you anytime soon. Privacy seemed the best route, especially if wanting to avoid…potential conflict.
Sure, he confessed his love, but did he want to take this seriously?
“What are we exactly?” You blurt out.
He just stares out, mouth opening and closing and you immediately regret your words. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t have to answer that—“
“I want to be your boyfriend.” He says quickly, flushing afterwards. “Um— if you’ll let me. I meant it when I said I love you. This isn’t just messing around to me. Even if…a certain someone beats my ass.”
You don’t give a response for a couple seconds, leaving him holding his breath. Finally, you smile and lean up to kiss his lips then the tip of his nose in finality. “Is that a good enough answer?”
AUTHORS NOTE: sooo…maybe might write part 2 where anthony finds out and shit hits the fan? you can kinda tell i got lazy towards the end lol.
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