my name is javs and i’m 24 years old. my birthday is June 18, i graduated college as an interpreter of english and spanish (which is my first language actually).
i started reading fanfics when i was 12 and i haven’t been able to stop since then. (recommendations are accepted and most of all, welcomed)
pronouns are she/her.
here’s the masterlist to all my audio recommendations, which had always had stranger things characters in mind, but can be whatever you want them to be.
lots of love, my inbox is always open should you want to talk.
hey so i’ve been struggling for a while now; it’s probably been the hardest three months of my entire life. i’m finishing my master’s degree, but i’ve been struggling with depression and anxiety for a long time now.
i moved back into my parents house because i wasn’t eating or even taking care of myself.
i just wanted to say i appreciate having this account (not that i’m deleting it) but just that when i used to post the masterlists i was so happy. not only because i was posting, but the way you guys received it made me feel amazing.
i am thinking about posting again, but my will to do things has been … just not there. i am still using the app to read because it’s one of the few things that i keep doing. joe’s music and my love for that man is one of the things that make me feel something.
older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader - a slow burn series of blurbs and one shots | modern au!
🎶All I really want is you, what would you do? Laying in the rain with you, middle of June🎶
summary: In between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love.
this series takes place over the course of one summer and is told in the form of blurbs and one shots of your run in’s with your handsome neighbor.
warnings: 18+ for my blog and smut in later parts of the story. age gap: reader is 30 and steve is 42, drinking, smoking (steve smokes cigars), mentions of death (peep the widower), steve is not a dad in this one. sorry to my jenny crew.
SERIES PLAYLIST // Steve & Bandit sketch 🧡
Welcome to the neighborhood
Fancy meeting you here
Mr. fix it
Good morning & good night
Whiskey & cigars
I don’t know you, but I want to
Bad idea
Red, white, & boom
Ask me what I’m thinking about
Baby, I’m yours
Heaven knows you better (Epilogue)
bonus blurbs:
First camping trip with Steve at Starved Rock 18+
How Steve treats you on your birthday 18+
Trying a new position 18+
Fire pit cuddling
Steve and Orange Colored Sky Eddie FT call by @carolmunson
summary: you and your boyfriend eddie decide to have some fun in the living room, what you fail to notice is that your boyfriends roommate steve is also awake. and he can’t help himself.
warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious), kinda pervy!steve, msturbation, degrading, praises, kind of a choking kink if u squint, VERY LIGHT dom/sub dynamics (like very very light), dom!eddie, sub!reader.
pairings: boyfriend!eddie munson x reader x roommate!steve harrington
author’s note: i just love steddie. if you see me repost this a few times no u didn't. not proof-read. ignore mistakes!!
Steve wasn't a morning person.
So it was no surprise when he tossed in the bed, groaning and whining at the noise coming outside of his room.
His pillow was smushed against his ears, attempting to cancel out the noise.
“F—fuck, s—shit, angel, take it, mmpf.” He barely had one eye open, and couldn't make up most of the dialogue, so he tried to make sense of the noise coming from the living room.
He removed the pillow from his ear, face scrunched in annoyance as he listened in.
Grunts, whines, and the slapping of skin mixed together, with Steve’s hazed state, he could barely make sense of it. But once he heard your pretty whines his eyes shot open.
Holy fucking shit. The two of you weren’t doing what he thought you were… Were you?
He sat up quickly, hand rubbing his eyes before he carefully situated himself on the bed to look through the gap where his door had opened slightly.
“Fuuuuck, just like that, princess, take my cock, mhmm.” Another grunt from Eddie, his skin slapping into yours, head thrown back, his hold on your waist bruisingly rough. Or at least that’s what Steve imagined, hearing Eddie’s raspy voice mixed with your silenced grunts was enough to fuel his morning wood harder than imaginable.
He was aching already, his cock painfully caged in his boxers, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t take a peek. He should just attempt to go to sleep again, he should give the two of you privacy.
But, fuck, was it tempting.
This is all he ever wanted, he knew how perverted that sounded, but this was his chance.
The walls in the apartment were thin, so fucking thin that he would hear your mewls every night, and Eddie’s dirty talk. He would never admit to how many times he got off to the sound of the two of you going at it. It was embarrassing, outright disgusting, and he felt ashamed.
A crimson red and disgust colored his cheeks the second he came all over his hand, sticky, always so much that it spurted all over his chest. But, god, did it feel so fucking good.
He didn’t know what it was that drew him in this much, Eddie’s dominance, your pathetic whines, him degrading you while you begged for more, it was all of it. And he was begging to get a glimpse of it, a little taste.
“Yeah, baby, you like that don’t you?” More sounds coming from the two of you, Eddie’s cocky tone enough to have Steve feel himself against his boxers.
He was hard, so achingly hard that he hissed, and his other hand immediately clamped down on his mouth to shut himself up, the skin slapping and the cursing didn’t falter a bit.
He could totally get away with this.
And he was about to burst in his pants, a little peek, wouldn’t hurt, would it? Jesus Christ, he knew it was wrong, but this was the perfect opportunity, he finally could see your fucked out face, Eddie’s cocky grins, he needed this. He deserved this.
Steve shifted quietly in his bed, concealing himself but still getting a good look at the two of you, his cock was needy, weeping, and he needed to give it attention soon. Just the look in your eyes, the way Eddie was all the way into you made him bite his lip to conceal the groans that slipped past his parted lips.
“Ssshh, baby, I know, I know, but you gotta quiet down a little, yea?” Eddie cooed against your face, biting and nibbling a trail from your chin to your neck, a grin sitting on his lips.
Fuck, Steve wished he could do that, have you sprawled on him on the couch, bare pussy on sight while he fucked himself into you, legs wrapped around him, while he left marks on your neck, truly owning you, like Eddie did.
Eddie squished your cheeks to quiet you down, his cock still hitting spots inside of your walls that you didn’t know existed, and you were quick to pout. “You don’t want our little roommate to wake up and see you like this, do you?”
Steve’s ears perked at that, bubblegum pink all over his cheeks, but it only encouraged him more and more, his cock engorged with blood and the need to fuck his hands was all he could think about.
The two of you were talking about him, and he was more than intrigued. Slowly but surely, Steve pushed his boxers down his thighs, hissing quietly when his heavy erection bobbed out, plopping against his v-line, tip hot and angry, waiting to be attended.
Eddie had you split in half, or at least that’s what it looked like to Steve, “Whinin’ like a bitch in heat, soakin’ my cock and still beggin’ for more.” Eddie grunted, Steve watched in awe, how hungrily you looked at Eddie, those doe-eyes looking so innocent yet you were anything but. Eddie was sliding in and out of your walls, harsh, quick, and making sure you could feel him fully.
Steve bit his lip to hide the groan that dared the slip past his mouth, cock hot and pulsating in his hands, he spat on it with a shuddered breath, wishing that instead of his hands he could push his veiny cock into every single one of your holes. Drawing out those pleas and whines from you like Eddie did.
Eddie’s cocky, domineering words also got him going, he didn’t know what was taking over him; he needed you under him, whining and begging for him, but he also wanted Eddie to dominate him as well, a fucked up dynamic that he would die to be a part of. You, submitting to both of them, while Eddie dominated both of you. And Steve in the middle, it would be perfect.
Eddie’s hands were bruisingly all over you, cock pounding into you with such force that Steve watched open-mouthed, wishing he could get a taste of you, wishing he could feel the way your tight cunt took him in.
“Oh, shit, you’d like that, baby wouldn’t you? Such a little slut, you’d want Harrington to see you all pathetic like this?” Eddie grinned, mocking you further and further, causing you to mewl at him pathetically.
Steve smeared his spit all over his cock, using it as a lubricant while he desperately wrapped his palm around it, ungodly sounds escaping his lips, not able to help himself when the two of you started talking about him.
His sickly desires coming to life in the best fucking way possible.
“You’d want Steve to see you bein’ my personal cocksleeve?” Heat rushed to your cheeks quickly, face feeling hot both from desire and how filthy Eddie was being, and he knew you loved it.
You shook your head shyly, gaze still on him with a pout. “Nuh—uh, don’t lie, baby, I know you like an audience.” Steve tugged at his cock feverishly, knuckles turning white with how much desire ran in his veins, his mouth hung open both from the pleasure and the words being uttered, would the two of you be into this as well?
God, he wanted nothing more than to have you underneath him as Eddie did, he wanted to get a taste of you, he wanted to feel your pussy squeezing him because he knew that’s what Eddie always blabbed about through those thin walls, how tight you were and how warm you felt.
Steve shouldn’t have listened, he shouldn’t have jerked off to his roommate having sex with his girlfriend, but fucking Christ the two of you were so hot.
How was he supposed to help himself?
“Would you want him to take a turn with you?” Steve’s ears perked, and his desperate tugs at his cock almost halted, he sat up a bit straighter, hand still rubbing his aching cock but eyes searching for you, searching for that approval.
You nodded shyly, a grin appearing on Eddie’s face “Mhmm, I know you would, such a fuckin’ slut aren’t ya?” Steve’s guttural groans were concealed by the harsh skin-on-skin provided by the two of you, Eddie’s loud rambling, and his even louder grunts.
Steve perfectly red in the face, fucked his fist harder, trying so hard not to finish himself off this early, but the desire pooling in his tummy was nearing.
That shy little nod, Eddie’s wicked grin, fuck, he was going to keep this memory in his brain forever.
“Love you, pretty girl,” Eddie hummed, sloppy kisses peppered all over your perky tits, mouth latching onto one of your nipples, sucking, nibbling while his fingers drew small circles around your breasts, igniting more pleasure.
Overstimulating you in every way possible, and Steve watched with an open mouth.
Both of you could not resist the grunts that left their lips, your frail body becoming mushy at all of the sensations, looking pretty as ever.
“You look s’perfect like this, honey, did you know that? Mhmm, this cunt made just for me, huh?” Eddie cooed, and Steve’s strokes against his dick were more sensual now, it’s like he wanted to feel you too.
You sank into the couch further every time he thrust himself into you, praises making your eyes roll all the way back to your head.
“Takin’ it so well, sweetheart, look at all the sweet noises your pretty pussy makes when I’m fuckin’ you raw, huh? God I love it when you get all dumb like this on my cock, princess.” he praised.
“Being the prettiest, good girl f’me, thinkin’ about nothing but my cock, perfect little fucktoy,” He groaned, voice getting coarse with need. Those chocolate hues you loved about Eddie were long gone now, replaced by something more sinister, fueled purely by hunger, and it made your nails dig deeper into his back, making him hiss.
“Ed—Eds…” Steve wanted to worship you, all of his thoughts being stripped away because of how fucked out you looked. Candy gloss smeared all over your needy lips, hair disheveled, eyes barely open, and spread out for Eddie like the good girl you were.
“Yeah, honey? What d’ya need?” Tone saccharine sweet, his hand landed on your cheeks, smushing them together, making it harder for you to register anything, he was making you feel so hot, so much… And you couldn’t bear to talk.
“N—need to, uh—” Words died down your throat when he shoved himself deeper, hitting that sweet, sweet spot that made you go all dumb on him, just like he loved.
“You wanna cum, doll? Huh? Can’t handle it anymore? Thought you were my tough girl?” He mocked with an ‘Aww’ sound, jutting out his bottom lip, making you nod vigorously.
“I—I’m your good girl, sir,” you muttered. Steve was trying so hard not to tug at his poor cock harder, not to go completely feral because he so wanted to last. He wanted to hear the pretty whines that left your lips, the guttural groans that consumed Eddie.
His hands landed on your clit now, he could feel your pussy nuzzling him, could feel that familiar feeling pooling in your tummy, and he wanted to get you into that space, where you could barely talk, where you whined and trashed for him to let you cum. “B—but ‘s t—too much, need to—” You whined, struggling.
Eddie breathed out a throaty chuckle, drawing circles around your sensitive spots to earn those breathy huffs from you. “Can barely speak, such a good fuckin’ cockslut for me, aren’t ya?” He mocked, all mean and filthy.
“And, all fuckin’ mine,” He grunted, he wasn’t forgiving, and neither was his cock, slipping out of you entirely to drive you crazy. Dark chuckles left his lips when he enjoyed your little whines, that deeper dig your nails had on his back with anger.
Steve’s lips wrapped around his knuckles, biting on them to conceal the lewd noises daring to slip out.
Eddie’s huge length, slightly bent to the left, facing upwards was slicked in both of your juices. Steve wanted nothing more than to have his tongue lapping up at him, taste both of you.
“Speak up, slut, what do you want, you wanna cum, huh?” Vicious, and bold, his hand had a hold on your throat now, harsh enough to draw both pain and pleasure out of you, making you cry out at the emptiness.
“S—so mean,” you murmured, you loved every fucking second of it. But his teasing was driving you crazy, and you so badly needed that sweet release, and to feel his warm load filling your hole.
He pouted at your words, releasing your throat as his palm stroked your cheeks, he knew you enjoyed his mean side, but he still couldn’t resist your pretty face and that addictingly gentle tone.
You always knew how to break him, and to get him to do what you wanted. Which was to get completely fucked.
With a sticky sweet and delicate kiss on your lips, he was quick to thrust back into you. “‘M s—sorry, sweetheart, ‘m sorry but you’re just so pretty like this, can’t help it,” he breathed against your neck, his movements getting sloppier when your moans became more pathetic and needy, he wasn’t going to last if you came.
And it was okay because Steve was dying for a release, both knuckles white, one from tugging, the other from biting into it to stifle his loudness.
“Don’t worry, honey, you can cum for me,” He cooed, lips pressed into the shell of your ear, kissing a trail down to your cheekbones.
“S—shit, fuckin’ shit, sweetheart cum for me and I’ll give you what you need,” He fucked himself deeper, slower into you.
Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, blurry vision only able to focus on the two of you.
“You want my cum don’t you, baby? Want me to fill you up?” You were gone, back arched with pleasure, trying to get more from him if that was even possible.
“P—please, Eds, need you to mark me, make me yours, all over again,” you moaned, craving him, feeling that tight coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter.
“A—ahh, shit—shit, sweet girl, when you talk like that you know you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, his own voice failing him when he was all lost in you.
“Need your cum, Eds, p—please, cum with me baby,” you begged, body frail beneath him, soft, mushy, and all ready.
“Shit, f—fuck, so fuckin’ tight when you cum, sweetheart, I don’t think I can—” His rambling got louder and louder, not caring if Steve could hear—hell Eddie wanted him to see this. See the way you were getting split open by Eddie, begging, while Steve fucked himself to the two of you, all so desperate, waiting for Eddie’s instructions.
A newfound desire found Eddie at the thought of both you and Steve being so submissive to him, letting him take all of the control. “Fuckin’ fuck! Jesus—mmpf,” he grunted.
Steve was desperate now—as much as he was ashamed of it, he had jerked off to the two of you so many times before, he knew from the noises, that the two of you were close.
And he was more than ready to finally see your pretty face and Eddie’s mouth hung open when both of you came, his fantasies coming true.
He fucked his fists harder, balls drawing up at the needy moans that slipped past your lips. “G—gonna fuck all of my load—fuck—into you, princess.” One final thrust rutted deep inside of you, filling you to the brim.
“Fuuuck, fuck fuck!” He yelled out, and that’s all it took, both of your eyes squeezed shut, melting into the couch, loud moans and groans filling the room while Steve watched with lulled eyes.
Your orgasm was quick to wash over your body, pussy convulsing around his cock deliciously, ropes of his warm cum spilling inside of you. All the while Steve squeezed his cock, spurting his cum all over his hand, white beads of his warm load covering his knuckles.
Heavy breathing filled the living room, and Steve’s room. His mind hazed, and eyes remained shut.
“Shitshitshit, take it, baby, take it all,” Eddie breathed out, his load sitting pretty inside of you, filling you nicely.
“Good girl,” he whispered, planting a nice kiss on your glossy lips, peppering your face with small ones, a wide grin sitting on his lips.
“Fuck,” Steve grunted out unintentionally, hand planting on his mouth with a loud smack, but it was too late.
Eddie’s head snapped backward, a grin sitting on his lips before his dangerous gaze met Steve’s dilated pupils, blown out by pleasure, and the anxiety in his system slicking his forehead.
“Did you enjoy that, Steve?” Eddie mocked from where he was standing, not moving an inch, eyeing the shocked look on his face, fully enjoying it.
Steve, at a loss for words, couldn’t even blabber a simple response. How the fuck was he going to explain this?
Eddie barked a mocking chuckle, pouting. “Your poor cock must be aching from those calloused hands, abusin’ it every night. You think we didn’t hear your pathetic groans every night? The walls are thin, Stevie,” he cooed, his tone so teasing that Steve gulped.
What the fuck was going to happen now?
Would Eddie beat him up for being a fucking pervert?
Would the two of you move out as soon as possible?
Endless possibilities ran through Steve’s mind, yet he couldn’t muster a single reply, cursing himself for even fucking doing this.
Yet, much to Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s reply was his wildest dreams and fantasies bundled up into a full sentence. “Oh, don’t be shy now, Stevie, come out, let us help you.” You hummed quietly agreeing with Eddie, too fucked out to say anything else, yet still up for more.
Without another word Steve got up, unashamedly walking into the living room with his junk out, hand still covered in his cum, Eddie’s gaze and grin were much more devilish up close, making Steve’s cock stir against the cold air hitting his tip.
You were quick to sit up on your knees, dragging Steve closer to you, hand gently holding up his semen-covered knuckle, giggling at the sight before your gaze met his.
The blood rushed to his cock in an instant, your doe-eyes still held that innocence, yet there was something filthy about it that had Steve wanting to melt into a puddle. You stuck out your tongue at him, mouth quick to wrap around his knuckles, lapping up his juices.
Your gaze stuck on him, and Steve’s thighs shuddered with need, eyes drinking you in while you wiped him clean and released his hand with a pop sound of your velvety lips.
A lewd noise escaped from Steve’s mouth, making him grow weak in his knees, still unable to find the words to speak. You were perfect. Just perfect.
“Stevie tastes so good, Eds,” you hummed sweetly, gaze never leaving Steve’s, and Eddie watched the two of you with newfound hunger.
“Do you want us to help you, Stevie?” You asked with a pout, plushy lips slickening with your candy gloss, and now with both Steve and Eddie’s juices. Steve nodded vigorously, head about to fall off his neck, gulping and almost groaning at you.
✭•*⁀➷ a modern fake dating steve harrington series ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
in which a friendship is surprisingly born in an elevator, and a crush that feels hopeless is developed very soon after that. for what feels like forever, you debate whether or not you should be honest with eddie and see if he maybe feels the same way as you. but, you upsettingly miss your chance to say anything when he gets into a relationship with someone that’s not you. ultimately, you decide to push everything you feel to the side so that you don’t potentially ruin everything between you and him; because at the end of the day, he’s still your best friend. now, two years later, things have changed— there’s a break up, reignited feelings, and pining that feels worse and even more helpless this time around. a blind date leads to you fake dating some guy you barely even know with the hopes of finally getting eddie to see you as more than just a friend. at first, you’re hesitant and you honestly think that steve’s suggestion sounds a little insane. but, then you decide that perhaps it could actually, somehow, maybe work? you and steve haven’t even known each other for a full twenty-four hours before you two are shaking hands and agreeing to fake date for a month, and hoping that you both get what you want out of this abruptly thrown together arrangement.
warnings: modern au, college au, fake dating trope, Big Big slow burn, bestfriend!eddie, slight fuckboy!steve vibes, unrequited feelings, pining, angst, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter
author's note: ah i'm very very excited for this series! i had this idea since like december and have been up and down and back and forth with outlining and writing it for the past few months (its been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least lmao). but here it finally is woooo !! i'm gonna actually do a taglist for this one so let me know if you wanna be added<333
Pls is there a part 2 to midnight city I want to know morning after and how everyone reacts to it because phew
A/N: When I originally posted midnight city on the old blog, this was one of my only fics that kept getting asked for part twos and I loved writing it, but really didn't know where to go. I guess, this lucky anon was the magical number to finally inspire this. And I will say, I do have a mini series all about Modern Steve coming out soon called "We'll Call it Love" - I hope you stick around for some more modern Steve.
But for you, anon & all of the wonderful people who asked for part 2? A little morning after blurb - enjoy 💋
Frozen:
part one: "Midnight City" | part two
modern!steve harrington x fem! reader
Summary: Steve Harrington still looks good in the morning. Your meddling friends have impeccable timing, but Steve and you still find time to get a little lost in each other. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+
WC Range: 1k-3k
Warnings: unprotected piv intercourse - creampie, petnames, Steve had stolen your shirt?, underwear found by friends
Lilac morning light falling across your eyelids as you wake from a dream you can’t quite remember, naked body stretching across soft sheets, arms under the pillow beneath your head. Lazily waking up in a bed that’s not your own, but somehow already feels like home. You let out a quiet yawn as you roll onto your side, eyes fluttering open at the warm breath that hits your cheek.
You bite your bottom lip as you take in the sleeping figure next to you. Steve’s face sharing your pillow, hair shorter than you’ve ever seen it before last night. His eyes moving in a dream under his closed eyelids, arms tucked under his chest, his back and shoulder muscles flexing as he shifts in his sleep.
You can’t help but watch him, taking in every slight twitch of a finger, a hitched breath, a snore - feeling like you’re watching an intimate and vulnerable version of the boy who keeps himself so guarded normally. His pink lips, soft and parted slightly, blowing air out in slow breaths and you’re a little mesmerized by them, remembering just how intimate you got with them last night.
You scoot your body slightly closer, sheets falling from your bare shoulder as your fingertips trace a light pattern across his back, your lips grazing his bicep, your body nudging into his.
You hear his breath shift as your fingers graze down his spine and back up, over his neck and scratching the back of his scalp. He moans a little, face burying itself in the shared pillow as you continue to scratch and card your fingers through the shorter hair and he stretches.
He finally opens his eyes as he turns his face towards yours. Eyes that aren’t quite blue nor green, mixing to form a color that reminds you of getting lost, blink at you and he smiles slowly, his voice deep and rough with sleep, “Good morning.”
His hand reaches over, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, trailing down your neck, shoulder, and your arm, all the way to the hand that had found its way to his chest and he lifts it and kisses your palm.
You feel your body warm at the gesture and he smirks, kissing your wrist and up your arm, scooting his body closer to yours until your skin to skin and you feel just how happy he is to see you this morning.
You whisper, afraid to pop the bubble that you’re in as he buries himself into your neck, “Morning, Steve.”
Soft kisses, down the column of your neck as he hums as a reply back to you, his hand on your lower back buzzing soft circles into your skin. He’s not doing anything overtly sexual and yet your stomach is flipping, toes curling and breath hitching every time his scruff catches and tickles your skin. You feel his morning erection pressed to your thigh twitch as his teeth nip your earlobe gently.
Lips trailing down your jaw as your eyelids flutter closed and you whisper, “Steve.”
His reply is not with words, but lips finding yours, swallowing your quiet sighs, his fingertips slipping down the curves of your body until he’s pulling his fingers through your wet folds and you shiver against him.
Both of you wrap your arms around each other, pulling one another tighter as his tongue dips out and licks your bottom lip. His length slips between your legs as you rotate your hips over him, easily sliding together from your slick.
Panting into him as he sucks your bottom lip between his own, hand pressing your head closer as his other lifts your thigh higher and over his hip, sliding his tip through your folds and teasing at your entrance.
You press yourself harder against him and both of you gasp as he slowly pushes into you, slowly falling deeper until it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins, filling you fully. Hand guiding your body, he starts thrusting into you, softly, easy, slow. He’s rolling you to your back, his lips moving over yours in a matching, agonizing pace.
Nose bumping against yours as hands find each other’s, his grip tight as he’s pushing them up over your head, burying himself fully inside you and he pushes you down into the mattress. Steve’s pace is teasing, giving you everything you want and then taking it away. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting into you further and harder each time, curls of hair hitting your sensitive nerves with each thrust, rubbing together creating a friction that has you moaning into his mouth.
Your legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking together as you drive your heels into him, forcing him even deeper and to stay put longer, and he laughs a little, nipping at your lips as you roll your hips against him. He releases one of your hands, fingers falling between your bodies as he presses soft figure eights into your swollen clit and your body jolts against him. Thrusting into you slowly, fingers circling and his lips back to yours has the band in your stomach stretched as far as it can go, ready to fall apart all over him.
Steve whispers against your mouth, “Come on baby, give into it.”
You whimper against him, his hips never relenting in their lazy but brutal thrusts, sure he’s leaving bruises deep inside of you with each one. Your back starts to arch off of the bed, gasping his name as you feel your walls tightening around him.
His other hand drags your jaw open as his kisses get a little hungrier, swallowing your screams as he presses his fingers into your clit harder, thrusting a little faster and you can’t hold it off any longer, begging him to fall apart with you.
He moans at your request, hands forgetting their previous positions and he wraps his arms around your back, holding you against his body and he suddenly thrusts into you quicker. Deeper, faster, you’re screaming into each other’s mouths, panting out one another’s names breathlessly. He holds you tightly against him and as you feel him twitch inside of you, painting your insides with his own high, you fall apart too, stars in your vision as you grip tightly to his back, lips pushing against his frantically as you ride out your orgasms together.
Holding each other, sweating temples pressed together, the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you and Steve and you’re unsure why it took so long to figure out, but there was no going back now.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice is softer and quieter than you’re used to. Opening your eyes you see his dancing around your face, fingers tightening on your back as he sighs against you.
You kiss his chin, hands wrapped around his neck as your fingers scratch up and behind his ears, laughing into his jaw, “That I wish we could freeze this moment. Because as soon as everyone finds out it’s going to be I told you so’s up the wazoo and Robin is going to-”
His eyes go wide and he gasps, “Shit!”
He’s pulling himself away from you, both of you wincing at the quick and sudden loss and you pull the sheet around you and watch him frantically pull clothes from his dresser and yank them on haphazardly as you speak, “It was the wazoo wasn't it? You find me horribly unattractive now? You know, as I was saying it I really-”
He came over and kissed you once quickly and laughed, “I loved the wazoo, I love-”
He stopped himself and your eyes went wide. He cleared his throat, tapping your nose before he buttoned his jeans, “I love that we have wonderful friends who are going to be here in less than five minutes for brunch.”
Too caught up in the chaos of his statement, his previous almost slip-up fades to the back of your mind as you search for where pieces of your clothing got thrown the night before.
He tosses you a shirt that could be yours.
Wait.
It is yours.
You hold it up, “Why do you have this? I have been looking for this for months..”
He squints, scratches his jaw and points at the window and you turn to look and he dashes out the bedroom door as a loud buzzing falls from his entryway, signaling that someone had arrived downstairs.
You call out as you pull yourself together quicker than you ever have, “Don’t think you’re off the hook buddy! I accused Robin, Nancy, and Eddie of stealing this! My favorite band tshirt and you had it the whole time?!”
His voice calls out quietly from the kitchen, “What? I can’t hear you?”
You mumble under your breath about how you were dating a pervert and your hands stop in your hair. You were dating right? I mean, Steve wrote his goddamn name in your pussy and he had your tshirt and you’re pretty sure he almost just said I love you. You had to be dating.
Right?
You rounded the corner in the hallway, barefoot soft steps to see him staring at a set of coffee mugs as you asked, “Steve?”
He handed you a mug with coffee exactly as you took it and you smiled, but frowned as you set it down, “Are we dating? What do we tell people? Cause in about five-”
The melodic “secret” knock of Robin tapped on the door before it opened, her humming and arrogant smirk filling the apartment. Nancy’s and Eddie’s directly behind her.
Eddie grinned, “Oh good, Y/N. You’re here already.”
You folded your arms, refusing to give them even an inch of fuel for their fire, “Yep.”
They all smiled like triplet Cheshire cats, glances bouncing between you and then at Steve who was finding something in the other room extremely interesting.
Robin walked further into the apartment, a box of donuts sliding onto the counter as she tapped it, looking between you and her best friend as she said, “Well, we tried to call a bunch of times to see if you needed a ride. But, looks like Harrington beat us to it.”
Steve choked on his coffee and you glared at her.
“Yeah, I tried calling too, you must have been busy.”
And here you thought Nancy was supposed to be the mature one.
Eddie lifted his finger and pointed to the living room, “I-”
You interrupted in a yell, “We had sex! Okay? Everyone happy? Got that out of your systems? Can we all be adults please?”
Robin and Nancy grinned, Eddie mashed his lips together and Steve tapped your shoulder and you spun on him, “What? They were going to find out anyways and-”
He nodded slightly and you followed the gaze of his eyes to your underwear hanging on the plant where Eddie had been pointing originally.
You growled something about everyone keeping their mouths shut, grabbed the offending item of clothing and closed the door to his bedroom as you fell face first onto his bed.
Steve wasn’t too far behind you, slipping in through the door and clicking it closed softly before poking your side, “Come on, it’s not so bad.”
Your phone buzzed three times and you pulled it out and huffed, showing it to him. Ignoring the million missed calls and texts and focusing on the most recent three in the group text.
Robin: So, we did establish I’m the best man and Nance is the maid of honor right?
Nancy: They were really cute underwear Y/N, if that makes you feel any better.
Eddie: Need us to make ourselves scarce?
You peeked over your folded arms at Steve biting his cheek as you heard Eddie and Robin yelling through the door about being best man’s, flower girls, and so on. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. All this extra pressure and nonsense, it made it confusing and it would hurt even more if it didn't work out. Thoughts you hadn’t even cared to think about last night because you were too caught up in the moment now flooding your brain.
Steve laid on the bed next to you, his crossed arms next to yours as his chin rested on them and he whispered, “I’d like the answer to be yes by the way.”
You sighed, “Yes? To what?”
He smiled, rolling to his side and wrapping his arm around you, tugging you closer like it was natural and a thing you’d done with each other for years, not one night. He kissed your forehead, “Dating. I’d like the answer to be yes.”
You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled, legs tangling together as your arms wrapped around his neck and you nodded, stomach floating with butterflies, “I’d like that too.”
He kissed down your jaw and whispered, “And as far as telling the others…something tells me they already know.”
You buried your face in his chest, inhaling a familiar scent of Steve in a new way, laughing through your embarrassment. He pulled your face up gently, kissing your nose before your lips tenderly. A lot had happened, and more would, and no doubt there was plenty to figure out. But for now, it was just you and him and that was all that mattered.
Hearing something about how the suit would look better on Robin over Eddie, you smiled.
*originally posted over on my old blog. If you happened to read/interact with this before, I'd greatly appreciate it if you left some love once again. I did re-edit/re-write some things.*
Midnight City:
part one | part two: "Frozen"
modern!steve harrington x fem! reader
Summary: Steve Harrington looks good tonight. You leave your meddling friends behind at the bar and Steve and you get a little lost in each other. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+
WC Range: 3k-6k
Warnings: modern Steve (smartphone use), drinking amongst group/reader (all of legal age), mentions of Ronance potential, fem reader, use of Y/N and petnames, a lot of swearing, making out in uber/public places, oral and fingering (reader receiving, steve performing), Steve’s a little possessive
Steve knew what he was doing, and you weren't going to fall for it.
The hat, the blazer, the new amount of scruff on his jawline...he looked good.
The entire wait in line to get into the bar your eyes roamed over him as he talked with Robin and Eddie.
You knew you were staring. You knew you shouldn’t be staring.
As you walked in you saw him fixing the collar of the jacket in the grungy mirror by the door. He caught your eye in the reflection, licking his lips before smirking and asking, “See something you like?”
Cocky son of a bitch.
You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you walked by, “You look nice tonight, Steve.”
You exhaled and bit your lip. You risked a glance back and regretted it immediately as you made eye contact with his stupid smirk.
Steve was your friend. Just a friend. You could appreciate how good your friend looked tonight. It wasn’t illegal to find him attractive. It wasn’t against any rules to think about his lips a little more than you had in the past.
Your group found a table by the small stage and Eddie drummed on the table looking around, “We probably shouldn’t leave this spot, you guys wanna go get your drinks first?”
Robin craned her neck searching, no doubt if Nancy was here yet. You pushed her shoulder down and laughed, “Down girl. Don’t be so eager - remember, slow game. Just text her where we are,” you looked at the boys, “Go ahead, we’ll wait.”
Steve and Eddie nodded and instead of going around you, Steve squeezed between you and a stranger, pressing his hand to your lower back and mumbled a quiet, “Sorry.”
You willed your face to stay neutral as you mumbled something about it being okay as your body filled with heat. Robin’s mouth dropped as she looked at your face and you squinted at the crowd, biting your cheek.
She smacked your shoulder and you recoiled, “Ow. What the hell is your problem!”
She smacked your shoulder with the back of her hand a few times again, and laughed while shouting, “Holy shit you have the hots for Steve!”
“Robin!” you hissed at her and ducked down.
“Who has the hots for Steve?” Nancy’s voice ringing out over the din of the crowd behind your shoulder.
Robin grabbed her hand and pulled her to the table, “Y/N!”
Oh god, could the two of them be any louder?
Nancy’s eyes lit up in excitement and she opened her mouth but it snapped shut, her eyes twinkling as the boys came back to the table, Steve setting your normal drink of choice in front of you.
Robin cleared her throat, “No drinks for Nance or I, hot stuff?”
Steve shot her a look but responded cooly, “I only have two hands and so much cash Robin. Y/N knows how to pace herself. You on the other hand drink like you wanna swim in it.”
Robin made a face at him, pulling out her phone and began typing as Nancy tapped the table, “No worries, gives Robs and I a chance to talk some more. Come on,” she tugged Robin away from the table who put her phone away as your phone buzzed three times.
You pulled it out and resisted rolling your eyes as you read the messages.
Robin: holy
Robin: shit
Robin: steve likes you
You started typing and saw Nancy’s name appear in the group chat, three little dots blinking and you waited.
Nancy: he does he totally does
You: guys stop it
You: we’re just friends
Nancy: don’t look now but he’s staring at you
Robin: aww he loves you
You glanced up to see Steve quickly look down and you bit your lip around a smile.
Robin: I SAW THAT
You set your phone on the table, screen down and gestured to your drink, “Thanks Harrington.”
He smiled and adjusted his hat nervously before grabbing his own drink. “Of course,” he held it up and you clinked your glasses together before you both took pretty big gulps.
Your phone buzzed and you took another sip.
“Where’d Eddie-”
“You gonna get-”
You both stopped talking and then spoke in unison, “Sorry, you-”
You clamped your mouth shut and your phone buzzed again and you sighed.
He pointed to it, “Your phone keeps buzzing.”
You nodded and took another drink, “Sure does, where did Eddie go?”
He nodded towards the bar, “Set his sights on a new prospect.”
You grinned and craned your neck to find the dorky metalhead leaning over the bar, chatting up a pretty honey blonde haired waitress.
You jumped at Steve’s voice next to your ear and his hot breath hitting your neck as he whispered, “Ten bucks he gets a fake number again.”
You turned and were shocked that your face was so close to his, your cherry breath mixing with his whiskey, and you narrowed your eyes, focusing on your competitive banter rather than your stomach flipping, “You’re a terrible wingman for your best friend. But, I’ll take that bet. I have faith in Munson. She seems interested.”
Your phone buzzed five times and as you glanced at it Steve took a step back and you picked it up as the girls returned to the table.
Steve fiddled with his drink and nodded towards your phone, “Who ya texting so much?”
Robin had a smug smile on her face, “Yeah, Y/N, you have friends other than us?”
You made a face at her and blinked at the screen.
Robin: Fuck that was cute. You guys are cute together. Cheers your cups together again. I want a picture.
Nancy: If you get married I call maid of honor. Robin’s Steve's best woman. No arguing. It’s happening.
Oh my god, a match made in heaven those two.
You tried to focus on responding normally while reading their messages, “Uh..um..Dylan.”
“Dylan?” Steve asked and you looked up to see his frown while he sipped his drink. Glancing back down to see why your phone had buzzed five times before they were back to the table.
Robin: OH
Robin: MY
Robin: FUCKING
Robin: GOD
Robin: KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS
You closed your eyes and clicked your phone locked and grabbed your drink and downed it, “Uh, yeah, Dylan.”
Robin smirked, pulling out her phone, “Dylan is your boyfriend?”
Steve’s knuckles hit the table a few times, his mouth twisting into not quite a scowl, but he didn’t look happy.
Your phone buzzed as you responded, “He’s not my boyfriend. We just hung out a few times.”
Robin: Watch this.
Robin waited until you looked at her and she smirked, nudging Steve, “Riiight. Hung out a few times. She means they had sex.”
“Robin,” you hissed for the second time that night.
Steve finished his drink, “Yeah, Robin. I got it.”
He tapped his empty glass and walked away and you turned on Robin, “What is your problem!”
She jumped up and down giggling, “Oh my god, he looked like you kicked him in the stomach. He’s so into you.”
Nancy smirked and slid your empty glass towards you, “She’s not wrong. Her methods were a bit blunt, but now you know. Even you have to admit he looked pretty heartbroken.”
Steve was heartbroken over you talking to another guy? You didn’t want to admit to either of these two that the thought made you want to squeal a little, but the thought of Steve Harrington being a little jealous when it came to you made your stomach flip. Could one of your best friends be more than that? As you thought you saw the two of them smiling wider at you, as if they were reading your thoughts and Robin started clapping her hands together.
You pushed Robin’s shoulders down to get her to stop bouncing, “Okay, okay, okay. If he makes a move, I won’t say no. Okay? But I’m not gonna be the one to do it.”
Robin nodded and you pointed in her face, “No. Meddling. I want him to do it himself, Robin. I mean it.”
She zipped her lips and threw the key and Eddie timed it perfectly, pretending to catch it and unlock her lips as he slid in next to her raising his eyebrows, “Ooo secrets. Tell me.”
“Y/N and Steve love each other,” she responded immediately.
“Robin!” you looked at her in disbelief.
She shrugged, “What?”
You mimed her literally seconds ago locking of the lips and held your hands out, asking what she had to say for herself. She shrugged again, “I said I wouldn’t meddle or tell Steve. Gonna have to be more specific next time sweet cheeks.”
She turned you towards the bar and gave your butt two pats and Nancy made a sound from the back of her throat and you held your hands up, grinning as you backed away.
You sighed as you stepped further away from the table though, glancing across the room to see Steve’s tall frame over the crowd you pushed through. You watched Steve rub the back of his neck, tipping his glass back for a drop of whiskey. You meant what you said, you’d risk your friendship with Steve if he made the first move.
You sighed as he rubbed his new scruff and figured a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, a little nudge in the direction you hoped he wanted to go too. You already had a witty, fairly flirty banter on normal nights, it was up to him to push it further. But you could help get the wheels turning in his brain.
So, you bumped his hip when you finally reached him, “Hey, let me get your next one.”
He started to shake his head in protest and you stepped in front of him, placing yourself between the bar and him as you waved for the bartender.
Your phone buzzed twice.
Eddie: Woah. Easy there, killer. Gonna give him an accidental boner brush.
Robin: Delicious.
You smirked and clicked it locked. When you got your drinks and turned to him he was glancing at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed.
You smiled but internally started to panic that Robin had not kept her word, or worse Eddie was now involved and texting him. You hadn’t made him promise not to do anything. Those two could find a crack in any contract, slipping between the lines of questionable and reasonable decisions alone. Together, though, they were a terrifying tornado of well intended though slightly messy chaos.
You handed him the drink and you both were pushed over to a large post, leaning against it and you took a sip. Needing to find out what those two were up to, knowing you sounded incredibly nosy, you still asked, “Who ya texting?”
He glanced up, “Uh…I don’t know.”
You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know?”
He looked confused at your tone and glanced back down at his phone. You pulled out your phone and started typing.
You: I’m going to kill you
Eddie: what
Robin: why
Nancy: I know a good lawyer.
Steve kept talking, “Yeah, a random number texted me asking if I still wanted to get drinks. Do you recognize who it is? Did Robin give my number to someone? I have, like, five contacts and four of them are here with me.”
Hey Steve! You still down for drinks tomorrow night?
You tried not to let the emotions coursing through you show on your face, “Oh. No idea, sorry.”
You pulled out your phone and quickly typed nevermind before smiling, gesturing to the table as the lights dimmed and the crowd around you cheered.
You pressed through the people and Steve’s hand on your back was making you sweat. He had girls texting him to get drinks?
As the band started playing you sipped your drink and stole glances at Steve’s jaw next to you. That green monster churning inside of you. Damn Robin for even saying anything about you and Steve. Damn Steve for the way he looked tonight. And damn whoever that number was.
How did this happen? How did you go from being friends, to thinking he looked good tonight, to being jealous, to having to stop yourself from reaching over and biting his neck.
He pulled out his phone and something came over you, making you push closer to him, bumping your wrist in front of his crotch.
Think about getting drinks with some other girl while you think about, as Eddie so eloquently put it, my “accidental” boner brush Harrington.
You felt him stiffen, his thumb pausing over his screen.
You took a sip and let your hand fall back down to your side and felt your own phone buzz.
Eddie: Nice
Robin: What happened to him making the first move?
You glanced over your shoulder to see the two of them smirking at you. Robin glanced down at something and smiled as you felt fingers brush your own.
Your breath caught in your chest and you closed your eyes as Steve’s fingers brushed and moved against yours. The backs of his knuckles barely brushing against your skin, tapping almost in time with the music.
You focused back on the stage, feeling warm as Steve moved a little closer, his arm against yours now, goosebumps erupted on your skin despite sweating your ass off.
Was this really happening?
You felt your phone buzz and you ignored it, leaning in to Steve a little more. The song being performed pounding in your ears in time with your heartbeat, the haze of a smoke filled bar making everything feel a little heavier, a little hotter. Your arms pressed together, electric static coursing between you and he nudged his shoulder against yours.
You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting as lights surged on the stage, it was like a freaking scene from a movie.
It really was like a scene from one of your favorite romantic comedies, lights casting Steve in a golden light, eyes fixed on you like you were the only two in the room, music swelling around you as bodies pushed you closer together. His eyes bounced between yours as he started to lean in, his lips parted slightly, and a flash went off next to you, making you both turn and squint as Robin screamed, “Fucking hell! Shit!”
She quickly threw her phone down, her, Nancy and Eddie all grinning with their elbows on the table, blinking innocently and you rolled your eyes and Steve cleared his throat.
Steve and you turned back to the stage, the moment had passed and you were honestly a little heartbroken. And a little annoyed at Robin, who you were sure was the reason you felt your phone buzz again.
When it buzzed again you rolled your eyes and glanced down. Your heart thrummed in your chest in time with the music building as you ignored the message from Eddie and clicked on Steve’s name.
Steve: Wanna get out of here?
You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced over at him. You took a deep breath and typed your message while smirking.
You: You can do better than that Steve.
He glanced at his phone and his lips twitched up on the left side. His eyes kept glancing up to you as he typed and your phone buzzed again while he was still writing.
Eddie: You kids are so cute. Can I be both of your best man?
Robin: ARE YOU TWO TEXTING EACH OTHER WHEN YOU’RE FIVE INCHES A PART
You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink and almost choked on it as you read the message that popped onto your phone as Steve slid his own into his back pocket with a satisfied smirk on his lips.
Steve: You’re right. I can. I ordered an Uber and it’s outside. We’re going back to my place and I’m going to show you how much better I can do.
Steve: all. night. long.
As you finally swallowed, heart threatening to crack out of your chest as you glanced up at him under your lashes, he grabbed the drink out of your hand, setting it on the table and pulled you through the crowd.
You were breathless from how fast he was going, pulling you out of the bar and into the waiting car. You giggled from how frantic he seemed.
He grabbed your cheeks, “I’m really sorry about this, your tip is already doubled and if you run every red light I swear I’ll quadruple it.”
You looked at him confused but as he pressed his lips to yours and you heard the uber driver sigh and turn their music up, you understood Steve was starting his text message vow, lips a blazing.
You moaned into his lips, your hands on his scruff, down his neck and under his blazer, scratching your fingers up his back slow and hard, soaking in the thing you had wanted to do since he pulled up to the bar that night.
His kissing was slow and sure, his hand pulling your jaw open for him as his tongue dipped into you. His other hand squeezed your thigh before roaming up to your hip, under your shirt and toying with the lace of your bralette.
His warm fingertips on your skin buzzed, his mouth opening against yours, his breathing slow and heavy, panting into you. His breath and yours mixing until it felt like you were the same person breathing, warm and heavy and stars dancing behind your closed eyes.
The car stopped and Steve pulled you out, backing you into the lobby door with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your neck, both of you stumbling inside.
He pressed the elevator button, wrapping his hands on your lower back and nipping your skin and you moaned, your head falling back against the door.
He pushed you inside as the door opened, bumping another button before attaching himself to your lips again. His fingers held your chin as he kissed you softer and sweeter. Kisses that left your stomach burning, your lips buzzing, your body sweating. He sighed as his thumbs rubbed over your cheeks and pulled you through the open door.
You didn’t stop kissing, bumping into the walls and stopping in the hallway against a wall or strangers door occasionally. Catching your breath in big gasps of air against each other as the other kept their lips moving, refusing to take a break. Frantic, needy, hungry for each other and not willing to waste any time.
Steve pushed you up against his door and pressed his hands over your head, leaning his weight into you and kissed you so deeply you felt yourself drenching your underwear, his lips sucked on your bottom lip as he opened the door.
Once his front door closed, you were ripping each other’s clothes off. His blazer on a lamp, his shirt in the sink. Your shirt you were pretty sure went behind a plant and you didn’t see where the jeans went. You were down to your bralette and underwear before you saw him press his phone and the same song that had been on in the uber came out of a speaker. He flung it somewhere before grabbing you and lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist.
He pushed you down into the couch and removed your underwear, his scruffy cheeks ticking your thighs before his mouth was on your soaking folds, licking a long and slow stripe through you.
You shuddered, “Steve.”
He licked you again, sucking on your lips before his tongue swirled on your clit, the bundle of nerves spasming under his attention. He moved to suck on the bead and you felt his spit pooling on it as he created a vacuum and two of his fingers dipped through your slick and into your entrance.
The same song started repeating and you gripped his hat and yanked it off as your legs adjusted over his shoulders, him on his elbows and laying across the couch under you.
You gasped as he pulled his lips away with a pop and pulled his fingers out and you choked out, “I-I like your haircut.”
He smirked up at you from between your legs, his lips rosy and glistening and his eyes blown out wide, pupils taking over the mossy color, his new scruff damp with you. He was handsome and perfect and he was only slightly cocky as he asked, “Yeah?”
You nodded and shivered as his fingers brushed through your wet folds, teasing as he watched how you threw your head back. He kept sliding them up and down, his large middle finger spreading you slowly as the music built and he sighed, his other hand wrapping under your knee, kissing up your thigh as he babbled.
“You’re so fucking hot.”
You whined as his fingers kept sliding, down to your entrance and teasing you and back up to your swollen clit, creating a friction that was building with the coil in your stomach as the music started over again. Kissing your thighs and the dips of your hips sweetly in contrast to the filth that was coming out of his mouth.
He pulled through you slowly, his fingers making a v, “Your sweet pussy just dripping for me, baby.”
Holy shit.
“Making all this mess just for me,” his tongue swirled around your sensitive nerves again.
“Making all those pretty sounds.”
He licked sweet and quick around your nerves and into your lips before moaning, “I’m making this pussy mine. Nobody else right? It’s all mine. It’s Steve’s.”
You gasped as his tongue licked through you deeper, pushing into you harder and his nose brushed against your clit and you almost yelped from how overwhelming it all was. His words, his mouth, his nose. Steve was burying himself in you as deep as he could, devouring you like you were his first and last meal at once. Every time his lips and tongue moved, his nose hit your clit and you were panting under him as you gripped the couch and screamed as the music and Steve crashed into you.
And then you felt it.
How his mouth and tongue were moving. How his nose kept nudging your clit at different angles.
S.
T.
E.
V.
E.
You clenched around him and grabbed at his head, breathless, “Again. Do that again.”
He almost growled into you, repeating his spelling and you moaned as he finished the E and dug your heels into his back, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Steve-”
He nodded into you, “Mhm. Baby. That’s right. Steve’s pussy. Say it louder.”
He started sucking your clit again, three of his fingers inside of you and curling before pulling in and out quickly in sharp thrusts.
You were panting, sweating, his lips a vacuum seal on the bead of arousal as the coil in your stomach started to snap and your legs pushed against his neck and shook, “Steve, I-I’m-”
His mouth moaned against you, nodding into your folds and the beat in the music broke and you gushed over his fingers and mouth as you screamed, “Steve!”
He pulled his fingers out of you before he licked everything you gave him until you had to pull him away from the over stimulating kitten licks he was still giving you. He kissed up your thighs and stomach before resting over you and grinding his clothed bulge over your wet and tired self.
Your eyelids fluttering and your skin sweaty, you were sure you looked a wreck beneath him as he kissed up your shoulder and neck. He rolled his hips against you and you sighed, your arousal already building again as he kissed your mouth slowly. Yourself, his whiskey and your cherries dancing on your tongue and he whispered against your lips, “How was that for better?”
You laughed around his lips and reached down and started to undo his jeans.
He kissed you sweetly, grabbing your hands and pushing them up over your head, keeping a firm hold on your wrists and dipped down to your neck again. He sucked a bruise into your skin as you started to make a damp spot on the front of his jeans while rolling your hips against him.
He pulled his lips away and his breath was hot against your ear as his fingers started to trail down your body slowly sending a wave of shivers through your body as he asked, “Think I can do even better?”
🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵
summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.
word count: 13.6k
warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.
authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗
The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless.
Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.
“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.
“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.
The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“
“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.
Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.
“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.
Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.
“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”
“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.
“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.
“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over.
“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”
Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.
“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”
The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.
Shit. You’re late.
No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.
Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.
You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.
Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.
The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.
An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.
God you hated when Eddie was right.
Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.
“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”
The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.
“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.
Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.
“Well as long as you’re okay-“
“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.
“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.
“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.
It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.
“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.
He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.
“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.
“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”
He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”
His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.
The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.
Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.
“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.
You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face.
“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.
“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.
Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.
Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”
Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”
“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.
Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?
Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath.
You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.
Oh yeah, you had a date.
“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.
“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.
Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.
“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”
Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.
“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.
“I.D. or no entry dick head.”
Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.
You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.
Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.
“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.
Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.
“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.
“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.
“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.
“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.
“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.
God, you already want this to be over.
The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue.
“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.
“It was- It was a lot different from here…”
Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival.
Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.
The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.
“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.
Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.
Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.
“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“
“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”
The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer.
“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.
“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.”
There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you.
“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”
Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.
“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!”
The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.
You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.
“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.
The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand.
“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him.
“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.
She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.
“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.
“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.
“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.
“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.
The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.
He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.
“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool.
“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.
“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.
“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.
“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.
“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.
“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.
He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath.
“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this.
“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.
“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.
Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth.
Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin.
“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.
“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.
“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.
“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.
“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.
You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose.
His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips.
When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.
“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.
“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.”
The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.
“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified.
“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied.
“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.
“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.
“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?”
Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.
“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.
“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.
“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.”
You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.
“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.
“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.
“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.
“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.
You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.
The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil.
You have to get rid of Devin.
He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.
“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.
Crickets.
You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.
“Devin.”
You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.
You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.
“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.
“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“
“Devin.”
“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.
“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”
Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.
“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”
You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight.
“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.
“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.
Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again.
“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.
Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.
“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”
You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance.
God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night.
Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.
“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.
The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.
“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again.
“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.
“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”
It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.
“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.
“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.
“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.”
“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.
“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”
Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.
In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.
Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.
“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!”
He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.
“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.
He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.
“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”
Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.
“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.
“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.
“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.
“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.”
Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.
Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.
“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.
“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.
The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.
“Anytime Stevie.”
His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him.
You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you.
He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.
“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.
“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.
“You’re the only one baby.”
His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.
“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”
His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you.
It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.
“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.
“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch.
“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.
“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.
“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.
“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.
Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.
“Sit on the toilet for me.”
The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.
“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.
“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom.
It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?
It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.
“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?”
Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.
It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag.
“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.
“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?”
You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him.
“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.
“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.
You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.
“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.
He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.
“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.”
You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.
“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.
“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.
“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process.
“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”
It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.
“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.
“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.
He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.
“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”
A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.
“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.
It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin.
“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.
He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.
It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells.
You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.
One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.
“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.
He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.
“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.
Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light.
His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.
You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.
“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?”
He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.
“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”
His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.
“Steeeeve, please.”
You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you.
“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”
The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.
You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.
“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”
Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.
“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”
The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it.
“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”
His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.
“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.
Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees.
Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it.
“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.
His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.
“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.
“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?”
There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.
“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.
“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.
“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”
Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.
“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.
His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.
“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high.
You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again.
His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.
“You ready for me?”
Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.
“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.
“Please, please, please, please.”
All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit.
“Fuck - baby.”
He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him.
“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch - dangerously close to cumming already.
“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.
He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.
“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this.
“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself.
“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.”
His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from.
“Shit, Steve, right there.” Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.
“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”
Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.
He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”
“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.
The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.
“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.
“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break.
The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.
“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.
The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.
“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”
His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.
“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.
“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.
You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.
“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.
“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”
“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.
“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.
“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.
“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”
So I may or may not have become obsessed with a few older!eddie and older!steve x babysitter fics, and it inspired me to write this 🖤 didn’t intend for it to be quite so long but I couldn’t stop myself once I got going!
Warnings: age gap (reader is 20, Eddie & Steve are mid-late thirties), smut - oral m & f receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, masturbation, mentions of smoking and mild alcohol use
A/N: This fic is my baby it’s honestly taken me forever so I hope u like it 🖤 this is a modern AU, lots of fluff, slow burn vibes, friends to lovers (more like employers to friends to lovers I guess?) feedback is very much appreciated! 16.5k
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The wrought iron gates tower above you, the metal twisted at the top in elegant spirals finished with sharp points. Behind them a long winding driveway leads to an impressive home, all ebony black wood and enormous shining windows.
Pressing the button on the intercom you wait anxiously until a voice cuts through the static.
“Hello?”
“Um hi. It’s Y/N.”
“Oh hi Y/N! Come on in.”
A loud buzz makes you jump, and slowly the gates begin to pull open. You climb back into your car, making your way up the drive. You park next to a very expensive looking BMW, cringing at the sight of your own vehicle besides it, marked with dents and scrapes, the bumper held on with duct tape.
Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you bend down to check your reflection in the wing mirror, smoothing your hair in place to make you look more presentable. You approach the front door, reaching for the bell but before you can ring it the door swings open, revealing your potential new employer.
You weren’t sure exactly who you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t someone like him. When your Mom had come home from grocery shopping the day before, she called you down to the kitchen to help unpack the bags.
“I met someone interesting at the store today.” she said as she loaded fresh vegetables into the fridge.
“Oh yeah?” You teased playfully, wiggling your brows at her.
She scoffed, rolling her eyes at you.
“Not like that. Someone interesting for you.”
You groaned then.
“Mom no offence but I really don’t need you trying to set me up with someone.”
“Not like that for you either!” she swats at you with a cucumber, and you laugh as you dodge the assault.
“He was stood behind me in the check out line. I could hear him on the phone, he was cancelling some plans, said he didn’t have a babysitter. So when he got off the call I started talking to him, telling him about you. Apparently his previous sitter just left for college, and he was struggling to find someone to replace them. I told him you’ve looked after loads of kids in our neighbourhood over the years, and he seemed pretty keen so I gave him your number.”
“So now you’re just giving my number out to random men at the grocery store huh?” She rolled her eyes at your teasing.
“Yeah well I thought it might be handy for you to make a little extra cash. He said they need someone fairly regular, so you might even be able to cut down your hours at Enzo’s, I know you don’t like it there much.”
She was right about that, you didn’t much care for waitressing. And you had to admit you’d always been a good babysitter, you’d spent so much time over the years looking after the kids on your street you were like the honorary big sister of the neighbourhood. So maybe this could work out.
Your phone rang later that afternoon. Steve Harrington had introduced himself, and asked if you’d be willing to come over the next day to meet him and his family properly.
“Don’t you want to ask me some more questions first? You don’t really know anything about me, I could be a crazy murderer for all you know.”
A deep throaty laugh played out through the speaker held to your ear.
“Your Mom told me plenty about you earlier, so I think I’ve got enough information to go off. Besides, what are the chances that we’d both be crazy murderers?”
You giggled then, agreeing to come by his home the next day.
And that’s how you found yourself here, standing on Steve Harrington’s doorstep with your jaw hanging open in surprise. He was tall and broad, subtly defined muscles showing under his tight white shirt. His frame could’ve easily made him intimidating, but the crooked grin spread across his face put your mind at easily immediately. Bright hazel eyes twinkled at you from behind thick lashes, creases at the corners of his eyes deepening when he smiled. A mop of thick chestnut hair flopped across his forehead, and he pushed it back with a large hand. It gave him a boyish charm, but if you had to guess you would have put him in his mid thirties. He was gorgeous.
He chuckles, and you realise with horror that he’s said something that you’ve been too dumbstruck to hear.
“Uh, sorry. W-what?” you stammer, cheeks warming with embarrassment.
“I said aren’t you going to come in honey?”
You nod, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips at him calling you honey. Keep it together you think, getting a crush on your new employer isn't a good start.
You nudge off your sneakers by the door and follow him through the grand open hallway down to the kitchen. It’s huge, sleek marble countertops and a matching island in the centre, endless white cabinets, and a large stainless steel fridge. Steve motions for you to take a seat at the island, and as you hop up on the stool you watch as he grabs a couple of glasses, filling them with ice water from the dispenser on the fridge door. He slides one across to you and you squeak out a thank you, taking a small sip to try and calm your nerves. He takes a seat beside you, and you try to ignore the way your heart thumps as his knee knocks against your own.
“You have a beautiful home.” You say as you take in your surroundings. A large window above the sink shows an equally impressive garden, so big you can’t see the end from where you sit.
“Thank you. I promise it’s never usually this neat though, I had a quick tidy before you came this morning.”
“Well it’s hard to keep things perfect all the time when you’ve got kids.” You offer.
He smiles. “Yeah the little rascals make a mess wherever they go. They should be back in a few minutes, my partner took them for a walk to try and tire them out.”
He takes a sip of his water, and you notice a thick gold band shining around his ring finger.
“So how old are you Y/N?”
“20.”
“You always lived in Hawkins?”
“No. My Mom and I moved here from Indianapolis when I was 12.”
He grins. “So you went to Hawkins High?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too. How come you’re not in college?” There’s no judgement in his tone, he just seems genuinely interested.
You shrug your shoulders. “It just never really appealed to me. All my friends went, but I wanted to stay here with my Mom. So I’ve just been working odd jobs for the last couple of years.”
“What do you do?” you ask, wondering what kind of jobs pays a salary large enough for a house like this.
“I have my own business. Well it’s more of an organisation really, we offer support and opportunities for less advantaged kids in the area.” He reaches for his glass again.
“And your wife?” you say, with a nod of your head to his ring. “What does she do?”
Steve’s eyes widen and he chokes on his water, face blushing a deep merlot as he splutters.
“My w-wife?! Um well-“
“Dada!”
You both turn in surprise at the high pitched voice ringing down the hallway. The patter of tiny bare feet slapping on the tiled floor follows as a small girl runs into the kitchen. She stops in her tracks when she sees you.
“Hey baby!” Steve coos, sliding off his stool. “Come say hi to Y/N.”
The girl doesn’t move, just stares at you. Her round doe eyes the deepest shade of burnt umber, it’s hard to see where her pupils begin and irises end. She blinks slowly, black lashes kissing her cheeks with every sweep. You give her a small wave and your most reassuring smile, and you’re relieved to see she relaxes, a shy smile forming on her pouty pink lips.
Louder footsteps echo from the hallway along with the soft clink of chains. A tall slender man, probably a similar age to Steve stands in the doorway. The chubby baby balanced on his hip grabs handfulls of the man’s long curly hair in his pudgy fists, pulling hard enough to elicit a wince.
‘Move out the way stinky butt.” he says to the girl, nudging her with his foot as he tries to gently untangle his hair from the babies grip.
She turns to him with a playful scowl.
“I’m not a stink butt! You a stink butt Daddy!” she shouts.
Daddy. Oh.
Steve clears his throat, getting the attention of the curly haired man who’s yet to notice the total stranger sitting in his kitchen.
He looks up at Steve, then across at you. The same dark eyes as his daughter, and the same thick black lashes. He smiles broadly at you, small crinkles by his eyes the only giveaway of his age, he could easily be mistaken for someone much younger.
“Ahh the new babysitter.”
“Yeah, Y/N.” Steve says.
The man takes a few steps towards you, the silver chains hanging from his jeans clinking again. You stand quickly, extending your hand to shake his own, but you’re surprised when he thrusts the baby boy into your arms instead.
“Hold this for me babe.” he says with a wink. You nod, incapable of speech. He’s devastatingly handsome, so much so it feels like your brain is short circuiting just from him standing so close. He makes his way across the kitchen, pouring out a cup of coffee and leaning back against the worktops, arms crossed as he looks over you from head to toe. You squirm under his gaze, and turn your attention to the child nestled in your arms.
Surprisingly, he seems fine with being shoved into the arms of a stranger. He blinks up at you from where his head rests back against the crook of your elbow, soft tufts of chestnut hair tickling your skin. You coo to him softly, stroking your finger across the perfect skin of his cheeks, smooth and unblemished. You rock your hips slowly from side to side, the gentle motion causing his lids to grow heavy. You smile to yourself before looking back up at the two men.
“So who’s this little cherub?” you ask quietly.
“I’m Eddie.”
You giggle, and Steve scoffs.
“Don’t laugh, you’ll only encourage him Y/N.” He comes to stand in front of you, gently stroking the hair of the now sleeping baby.
“This is Ben.”
“Aaaaand this-“ Eddie says, picking up the little girl and swinging her upside down as she squeals, “is Isla.”
“Daddy! Down!”
Eddie relents, placing Isla back on her feet. You lower yourself down to a crouch in front of her.
“It’s nice to meet you Isla. I’m Y/N.”
“Y/N” she repeats back softly.
“Y/N is going to help look after you and Ben.” Steve says as you stand back up.
“If - if you want to, I mean.” He looks at you nervously, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth. For a second you’re confused by his anxiousness but then the penny drops. He’s unsure if you’re comfortable with their family dynamic. With him and Eddie.
“Of course I want to.”
————————————————————————
The Munson-Harrington residence quickly begins to feel like a second home. They offer you enough hours for you to give up waitressing at Enzo’s completely (you got a great satisfaction from handing in your notice to your dickhead manager). They also pay you far better than any job you’ve ever had, and you try to protest that it’s too much, which they both dismiss quickly.
It’s not like they can’t afford it. Despite Steve’s work being non-profit you learn over coffee in the kitchen one morning in early fall that his parents had a lot of money, and he’d invested what they’d given him wisely, allowing him to focus on his charity work. Eddie was hugely successful too, a hot shot music producer. He’d proudly showed you around his home studio, laughing as you gawped at the gold records hanging from the walls, and the photos of him alongside some of the huge bands he’d worked with. The nature of their jobs meant they both spent a lot of time working from home, but they needed you to keep an eye on the kids so they could both have some peace and quiet while they worked.
You quickly fell into a routine, spending most of your days there. You loved every minute of it, you adored both of the children instantly. Ben was an exceptionally happy baby, he rarely cried, just content to bounce around on your hip while you fussed over Isla. She was a sweetheart, but she had a lot of energy, clearly inheriting Eddie’s inability to sit still. In the first few weeks you’d play with her for hours out in the garden, trying to tire her out enough to go down for a nap in the afternoon. As the children snoozed in their bedrooms you’d find odd jobs to do around the house, tidying up toys or wiping down the kitchen worktops.
“You don’t need to do that you know honey.” Steve said, leaning in the doorway to the utility room.
Eddie had just got back from a few days in New York, and you’d unpacked his suitcase, loading his worn clothes into the washing machine.
“I don’t mind.” you replied as you fiddled with the settings on the machine. “I just like to make your lives easier in any way I can.”
“You definitely do. I don’t know what we’d do without you around here.”
You smiled up at him, his praise making your heart flutter. It was almost embarrassing how desperate you were to please them both, bursting with pride at every compliment they’d give you.
“Come on, I just made coffee. I’m taking a break and Ed’s is going to catch us up on his trip.”
You take Steve’s outstretched hand, walking with him back to the living room as your skin tingled at the contact. The two men were surprisingly affectionate with you, not that you were complaining. Whenever Steve would put his hands on your waist to manoeuvre past you in the kitchen, or Eddie would pull you in for a hug when you arrived in the morning your heart pounded in your chest. It was stupid, you knew that. You’d never seen two people more in love than Eddie and Steve, their adoration for one another obvious in their every interaction. But there was a lot of love in this happy home, and you were more than willing to take whatever was left for you.
Eddie sat sprawled at one end of the sofa, his feet propped up on the mahogany coffee table. He grinned when he saw you enter the room, hand in hand with his husband, and he patted the empty cushion beside him. You sank down onto the soft leather, wedged between the two men. You sipped your coffee while Eddie gave you and Steve all the gossip from his trip, the frontman of the band he was working with having some big diva tantrums. You were doing your best to concentrate, but you were accurately aware of Steve’s arm draped across the back of the couch behind you, his finger tips delicately brushing your sweater clad shoulder. You were just relaxing back into his touch when the baby monitor crackled with static, and a soft cry played out, Ben letting you know he was awake. You jumped up, smoothing down your skirt.
“Duty calls.” You smiled. Steve’s arm hovered awkwardly in the space you’d just left, and he quickly pulled it back to his side, forcing a smile and nodding at you. You suddenly felt like you’d done something wrong, he looked tense. Ben’s wails increased in desperation, so you left the two men sitting alone, heading up the large spiral staircase to soothe the baby.
————————————————————————
A few days later you sat in the kitchen, Isla happily munching on a PB&J while you spooned a jar of what could only be described as green mush into Ben’s gummy mouth. Steve was out at work, and Eddie had been in his studio all day, clearly absorbed in whatever he was working on, you’d noticed the coffee pot hadn’t been touched since breakfast and he’d usually be on his fifth cup by now. You glanced up at the clock, realising he wouldn’t have eaten since this morning either. You wiped Ben’s face with a wet wipe, before grabbing a couple of slices of bread and slapping on a generous dollop of peanut butter.
“I don’t want more.” Isla mumbled through a half chewed mouthful, crumbs spraying across the island in front of her.
“I know baby,” you said, ruffling her silky dark curls, “I’m going to take this to Daddy.”
With Isla cuddled up on the sofa watching Alice In Wonderland (for the third time this week) and Ben snoring softly in his Moses basket, you picked up the sandwich and steaming mug of coffee, making your way to the studio. After a few soft knocks with no answer you gingerly opened the door, peeking round to see Eddie at his desk. His hair was tied in a loose bun at the nape of his neck, music bleeding through his headphones as he clicked on his laptop. Seeing you step into the room he slipped off his headphones, spinning in his chair grinning.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
“No no sweetheart, you’re fine. What ya got there?”
“Thought you might want some lunch” you said, placing the sandwich down on the desk.
“You always look after me so well princess.” You blush, and he grins wider at your face turning beetroot. His eyes turn to the sandwich, and he raises his brows.
“You cut the crusts off.”
“Y-yeah. Well I didn’t think you liked them.” You reply, remembering how he always leaves the crusts from his toast in the mornings, a habit that Isla had picked up.
He smiles at you softly, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering madly at the way his doe eyes gaze into your own.
“What are you working on?” you ask.
“Come here, have a listen.” You take a step towards him, and he winds his arm around your waist, pulling you down firmly until you’re perched on his lap. He feels your body stiffen.
“You okay?” he murmurs, his eyes full of concern that maybe he’s crossed a line.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You squeak.
“Good. Get comfy sweetheart.” You do as your told, leaning back against his chest, trying to relax.
He lifts the headphones from around his neck, placing them over your head and clicking on his laptop, thrash metal filling your ears. You listen for a minute, tapping your fingers on the desk in time with the drums.
“What did you think?”
“It’s good. Really good!”
He nods in agreement, “Yeah it’s getting there.”
You don’t know if you should get up, but with his hand resting on your hip a part of you wonders if he wants you to stay. You look around, taking in all the tech laid out in front of you, so many buttons and dials you wonder how on Earth he knows what to do with them all. Your eyes land on a small framed photograph, next to a picture of him, Steve and the kids. You pick it up to get a better look.
A younger Eddie and Steve are smiling at the camera, surrounded by a large group. There’s two pretty girls, a similar age to the boys, and a bunch of younger kids.
“Ah, our high school days.” Eddie murmurs, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“You had a lot of friends.”
“Hmmm. I did in my senior year, but it wasn’t always like that. I was a bit of an outcast at school. I used to get a hard time from a lot of people.”
“Because you’re gay?”
You feel Eddie’s chest vibrate against your back as he lets out a booming laugh.
“No, no. Just because I was a freak, dressed weird, had weird interests. Also, I’m not gay. Neither’s Stevie.”
You shift on his lap so you can see his face, and he laughs again at your confused expression.
“Back in the day, before I met him properly, Steve was King Steve. He probably banged more than fifty percent of Hawkins High’s female population.” You couldn’t be too surprised at young Steve having a successful love life. He looked every inch the high school heartthrob.
“Were you together when this was taken?”
“No, we were friends for a little while first. Just figuring things out I guess.”
You nod, looking at the younger Eddie in the photo. He’s as stunning as he is now, just a little skinnier, no stubble along his angular jawline.
“What about you? Get much action before Steve?”
“Not much. A few hook ups here and there, but never anything serious.” He hooks his knuckle under your chin, turning your face back to him. “Wouldn’t have had a chance with a pretty girl like you when I was your age.”
You feel your cheeks warm again, cursing yourself for how easily you get flustered around Eddie and Steve. You can’t formulate a response, your mouth agape at his words and your brain short circuiting from trying to tell if he’s actually flirting with you or poking fun. As you shift on his lap again you think you might have got your answer, something hard pressing against the back of your thigh.
“Anyway,” he smiles, patting your leg with his large hand, “I should probably get back to work. Thanks for my lunch.”
You nod dumbly, slipping off his lap.
“Good girl.”
How your head doesn’t explode you don’t know. Eddie gives you a knowing smirk before turning back to his desk, headphones blaring again. You make your way back down the hall, trying to ignore the fact that your legs feel like jelly and there’s a growing damp spot between your thighs.
————————————————————————
You know there’s something odd about the dynamic, about the way the two older men treat you. At first you’d just assumed it was all in your head. You could admit to yourself that you had a crush on the pair of them, and initially you figured that maybe you were just reading too much into things. They were friendly, that’s all. Tactile, warm, not afraid to show affection. And you didn’t just work for them, you’d grown to be friends. You easily forgot about the age gap when you were lazing around on the couch watching a horror movie after putting the children down to sleep. Eddie talking the whole way through the film, while Steve hisses at him to be quiet, and Eddie retaliating by throwing popcorn over your head into Steve’s face. You’d spent hours talking with them, eager to know all about their lives before you met them, and they were just as interested to hear about yours. On days off your phone would buzz periodically, Eddie sending you some stupid meme to make you laugh, or Steve replying to an idea you’d sent him for an activity to do with the kids at his organisation. You whole life was beginning to revolve around them. At night laying alone in your bed your mind wandered, recalling their touches, the way they seemed to share a knowing look when you’d blush and stammer in reaction. You tried to fight it at first, feeling embarrassed and ashamed when you’d wake in the middle of the night, skin damp with sweat and the bed sheets tangled between your legs. Your heart still pounding from your dreams, your unconscious mind letting you imagine what it might feel like for their touches to go a little further. Innocent hands on your waist quickly turning to harsh grabs, fingertips pressing enough to leave bruises. Lips brushing your ear when they whispered to you during a movie dipping down to suck the sensitive skin of your neck. A gentle pat on the thigh becoming more, hands sliding up under your skirt, reaching to where you wanted them most. The first night you came with your fingers buried deep in your cunt and their names on your lips you’d been so wracked with guilt the next day you could barely look either of them in the eye.
————————————————————————
On a cold evening in early December Steve and Eddie were getting ready for date night. They’d be out late, so you were staying the night, neither of them happy with the idea of your driving home so late in the snow.
“Eddie! Have you seen my glasses?” Steve calls from the top of the stairs.
“No! Are they on your head?” Eddie shouts back, laughing when he hears a huff in response.
“They’re on the counter in the downstairs bathroom!” you yell, bouncing Ben up and down on your knee. Isla sits by your feet, felt tips scattered across the carpet next to her colouring book. Her pink tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth and she furrows her brows in concentration.
Eddie leans forward from the couch, flicking her tongue with his finger tips.
“Daddy! Stop it!” Isla shrieks.
“You shouldn’t stick your tongue out of you don’t want me to poke it silly.”
“Maybe we should start doing that to Daddy when he makes that face.” you say, earning a giggle and a nod from Isla.
“I don’t do that!”
“You absolutely do Eddie! Who do you think she gets it from?”
Steve walks into the living room, glasses now perched on his aquiline nose.
“Got em, thank you honey.” he says, tapping the side of the frames.
“No problem. Looking good Steve.” And he really does. His light wash jeans fit snug against his thick thighs, and the crisp white shirt you’d carefully ironed for him looks perfect against his permanently sun kissed skin, the top buttons undone to reveal a hint of his dark chest hair. Steve blows you a kiss in response as he slips his gold Rolex onto his wrist.
“Hey! What about me?” Eddie whines. You roll your eyes at him.
“Handsome as ever.”
“Still got it.” he says with a wink, standing up and heading to grab his coat from the closet in the hall.
“So once we’ve had dinner we’ll be going for a few drinks, so I’m not too sure what time we’ll be back.” Steve says.
“It’s fine. Once the kids are asleep I’ll just watch a movie or something. If I go to bed before you get back should I leave the front door unlocked?”
“Nah, I’ll take my keys, so you can lock up.”
“Uber‘s here babe.” Eddie says, handing Steve his coat and scarf.
“Okay my loves! Time for goodnight kisses!”
You hold Ben up to Eddie, who places a kiss on each of his cheeks, one on his forehead, and a final peck to the tip of his nose. It’s a routine that they go through every night, one of the first things that they’d told you when you started working for them. Isla refused to go to sleep until you’d given her her kisses. Steve lifts their daughter to her feet, giving her the necessary smooches before they swap children.
“Be good for Y/N Isla. Remember she’ll tell Santa if you’re naughty!” Eddie teases. As him and Steve turn to leave Isla calls out.
“Wait!”
“What is it baby?” Steve asks.
“What about Y/N?”
“What do you mean honey?”
“You got to give Y/N goodnight kisses.”
The tips of Steve’s ears turn red.
“I- I uhh, don’t think that. Well Y/N probably doesn’t want-“
“No you’re right Isla,” Eddie interrupts. “Y/N does need goodnight kisses!”
He leans over the arm of the couch, cupping your face in a large hand. His chapped lips press four chaste kisses onto your skin, his warm breath fanning across your face, you can smell his last cigarette. He pulls away with a smile that you can’t help but return.
“Now Dada.” Isla prompts.
Steve seems frozen in place until a firm pat on the back from his husband shakes him out of his daze. He steps in front of you, bending at the waist to quickly kiss you. His lips are soft and smooth, and he smells like spearmint. When he stands up he doesn’t meet your eye.
The car waiting outside honks impatiently.
“We better go. See you later!” Eddie says, taking Steve’s hand and leading him down the hall.
————————————————————————
You tiptoe out of Isla’s bedroom, closing the door slowly, afraid to make too much noise and wake her. You creep down the hall to the spare room that you’d put your stuff in, quickly changing out of your clothes into a small pair of cotton shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Back downstairs you scroll through Netflix, trying to find something decent to watch. It’s not so fun to watch movies alone, you’re missing having Eddie and Steve either side of you. Halfway through you give up, shutting off the TV and climbing the stairs up to your bed. As you pass Ben’s room you take a quick glance inside. He’s flat on his back in the middle of his cot, his stomach rising and falling with each deep breath. You reach in, gently stroking his palm, smiling when he curls his fingers around yours even in his sleep.
When you get to Isla’s door you pause, hearing soft whimpers from inside.
“Isla, baby?” you whisper as you push the door open. The warm glow of her nightlight illuminates her enough to see she’s sitting up in her bed, teddy bear clutched to her chest. Fat tears pool in her wet doe eyes, spilling down her cheeks and soaking the neck of her nightdress.
“Oh no honey! What’s wrong?” you ask, sitting on the edge of her bed. She takes in a shaky breath, choking as a sob rattles her tiny body.
“M-monsters.”
You pull her onto your lap and hold her tight to your chest as you rock slowly from side to side.
“Did you have a bad dream?” She nods, burying her face into your neck.
You hold her for a few moments, stroking her curls and pressing kisses to the top of her head as she calms down. When her crying stops you make a big show of checking her bedroom for monsters, looking in the closet, her toy chest, under her bed. Satisfied with your search, she lets you pull her damp nightdress up over her head, dressing her in dry pyjamas.
“You ready to get back into bed?”
“Not yet.” she says in a small voice.
“Okay. Well why don’t we just sit together for a bit?”
You scoop her up, taking a seat in the rocking chair and holding her close. You softly hum a lullaby you’ve heard her Dads singing to her, and soon the motion of the chair and the sound of your voice has lulled her back to sleep. She looks so peaceful, her petal pink lips pouting slightly, stray curls falling across her forehead. You should put her back in her bed, but you love holding her, knowing that she feels safe with you. So you indulge for just a little longer, closing your eyes as you snuggle into her.
————————————————————————
The warm weight pressed against your chest shifts, slipping from your grip.
Isla. Someone’s taking her out of your arms. Your eyes snap open as you instinctively pull her back to you.
“No!” You protest.
“Shhh, shhh. It’s just me honey, it’s okay.” Steve coos, his voice soft like silk. You relax, blinking rapidly in the dim light of the bedroom as your eyes adjust. Looking around in confusion, your neck clicks as you turn your head and you wince.
“That can’t have been very comfortable to sleep on Y/N.” Steve says, gently laying the little girl down on her bed, tucking her in.
“She had a nightmare. I must’ve fallen asleep with her, sorry.” You mumble.
“Don’t be sorry. I almost felt bad for waking you, you both looked so cute curled up together.”
Steve takes hold of your hands, pulling you up slowly and holding you as your body sways, still half asleep and unsteady on your feet.
“Let’s get you tucked in now honey.” he whispers, giving you that smile that makes your tummy flip over. He leads you down the hallway to your room, fingers interlaced.
“Where’s Eddie?”
“Probably passed out on our bed. He’s had a few.” Steve chuckles.
He pushes open the door to your room, letting you go in first. He hovers in the door way until you trip over your discarded jeans from earlier, then decides to help you get into bed. You clamber in, body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Your head flops back against the fluffy pillows and he pulls the comforter up under your chin as your eyelids droop.
“Night Stevie.”
“Goodnight honey.” Soft lips brush against your cheeks, your forehead, and the tip of your nose before you fall asleep again.
————————————————————————
Every Christmas Eve the boys throw a party. It’s not a huge event, just friends and family, not that you’d be able to tell from the amount of effort Steve puts in. He takes a lot of pride in hosting, he’s been stressing for weeks to make sure every detail is perfect. When you step in the front door the towering tree is dressed to perfection, gold and crimson baubles glittering in the light cast by the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The scent of pine fills your nostrils as you add your presents to the large pile of gifts beneath the tree. Most are wrapped in smooth emerald paper, gold ribbon centred just so, the bows neatly knotted. The pile labelled “Steve” are less expertly wrapped, too much sellotape and wonky bows, clearly Eddie’s handiwork.
“What are you doing?”
You look up at Eddie, making his way down the stairs, Ben held to his chest.
“Just putting the kids gifts under the tree. I didn’t want Isla to see me with them, I won’t be able to resist letting her open them now if she bats those pretty lashes at me.”
“I’ve taught her well, puppy dog eyes are a Munson speciality.”
You reach out with grabby hands for the baby, and Eddie hands him to you with a grin. You kiss the top of his fluffy head, breathing in the clean scent of baby powder.
“I hope you didn’t go overboard, the kids have got plenty of presents, you don’t need to waste your money on them.” Eddie says, peering down at the pile you’ve put under the tree. You nudge them further under with your foot.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not wasting money. I love them, I want to spoil them.”
“Ed! I need your help in here!” Steve calls from the other side of the house.
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Speaking of going overboard. He’s in full party-zilla mode. Driving me crazy.”
“Don’t be such a grinch. Go give him a hand.” Eddie gives you a playful salute, marching down the hall dramatically. You’re relieved that Steve had called him before he’d looked too closely at your presents, knowing he’d complain if he saw the ones labelled for him and Steve. They definitely wouldn’t want you spending your money on them, but they’d been so good to you over the last few months you wanted to do something nice for them.
You’d spent hours in the mall trying to find the perfect gifts. You’d finally settled on a sweater for Steve, a cashmere blend in mustard that you just knew he’d look great in. It wasn’t as expensive as the designer brands he usually wore, but you hoped he’d like it all the same. Eddie had been a little trickier, but just as you were about to give up you past a jewellery store, with a selection of men’s bracelets in the window. Three thin strips of woven leather, held together with a heavy silver clasp. It was perfect.
You wander into the dining room, following the sound of Eddie and Steve bickering.
“Higher Eddie, for gods sake!”
“I can’t reach any higher Steve!”
“But it’s lopsided!”
“Soooo… how’s this going?” You grinned. Eddie was balanced on top of a step ladder, attempting to hang tinsel while Steve admonished from below. Isla was busy trying to unwind the extra tinsel, making more tangles in the process.
“It would be fine if Ed could follow basic instructions.”
“You know Harrington, I’m about to tell you exactly where you can stick this tinsel!”
“Anything I can help with?” you ask.
“Isla’s been asking for a snack, but the caterers are busy setting up in the kitchen right now.”
“Caterers? Seriously Steve?”
He turns to you with his hands on his hips, his go to pose when Isla (or Eddie more often that not) are getting on his nerves. It’s the first time you’re on the receiving end and you can barely stifle your giggles, he doesn’t exactly look intimidating, more like an angry mother hen.
Exasperated, he throws his hands up in defeat.
“You know what? I’ve had enough. Go, go on!” he makes a shooing motion at you as Eddie scrambles down the ladder. “I’ll do this myself, it’ll be easier without you all getting under my feet!” Eddie presses a quick peck to Steve’s cheek who does his best to maintain his serious face, then grabs your hand and Isla’s to give Steve the space he needs.
————————————————————————
You manage to bribe Isla with a chocolate Santa Clause into taking a bath before the party. She still whines throughout, particularly when you wash her hair, but she does let you get on with it, and as a reward you let her play mermaids, which just involves her thrashing around in the tub until most of the water has sloshed out onto the tiled floor.
While you wrap her in a fluffy pink towel, Eddie walks into the bathroom, tutting at the soaked floor. He leans over the tub, turning the taps back on to run enough water to bathe Ben next.
“Isla, do you want me to do your hair and Y/N the bath Ben? Or the other way around?”
“Want Y/N to do my hair.” She winds her arms around you neck. You hold her tight for a hug, she smells like her strawberry toothpaste and apple shampoo.
You leave Eddie with Ben, carrying Isla into her room. She sits as still as she can on the edge of her bed while you comb your fingers through her curls, gently separating the tangles and spritzing them with leave in conditioner.
“Up or down?”
“Both.”
You chuckle to yourself, pulling back the top layers and securing them with a red silk ribbon, leaving the rest of the curls to hang down her back. When her hair is to her liking you help her get dressed in the outfit you’d helped her and Steve choose at the mall last week. Thick white tights under a red tartan dress, with a tiny white bow at the neck. You slip on her black patent shoes, securing the gold buckle for her, then get her to give you her best twirl.
“Beautiful!” you cheer, clapping your hands. “The most beautiful girl in the world!” She smiles at you, holding your hand as you head out to show Daddy.
“Wow Isla, look at you!” He coos while he wrestles Bens kicking chubby legs into his little trousers.
“Y/N said I’m most beautiful in the world!” she exclaims proudly.
“She’s right Isla. I think I’m looking at the two most beautiful girls in the world.” You blush, giving him a playful swat on his shoulder while he grins broadly. He scoops Ben up, extending his free hand to his daughter.
“Come on honey, why don’t we go downstairs and get some more chocolate. We can let Y/N get ready for the party.”
You let them go before heading back into the spare room that had basically become your own. You’d started to leave some essentials in the en suite bathroom and some clothes in the wardrobe, you stayed so often it seemed pointless taking everything home each time. You get out of your clothes, pulling your new dress from its hanger. You step into the black velvet, pulling it up over your body and smoothing it down over your curves that it clings to just right. The neckline was low enough to just show a little cleavage, but still being appropriate enough that you could bend down to pick up the kids without spilling out. You look in the mirror as you adjust the off the shoulder straps, then twist your hair up into a loose bun, pulling a few tendrils free to frame your face. You didn’t bother with much make up, just a few coats of mascara and a swipe of cherry gloss across your lips, then slip your feet into your heels. Satisfied that you look good enough to not show the boys up in front of their guests you head out of your room, slowly descending the staircase, gripping the banister tight incase you wobbled in your new shoes.
A low whistle came from the bottom of the stairs where Eddie stood, now dressed in smart black pants and a white shirt.
When you step off the last stair he took your hand, holding it above your head so you could spin slowly for him.
“Will I do?” you ask sweetly, already knowing his answer.
“You’ll more than do. You look fine as fuck.”
“Eloquent as ever, thank you.” You laugh. “Need some help with your tie?”
He nods, watching your face intently as you took hold of the tie hanging loose around his neck. You knot it quickly, smoothing it down his chest when you’re done.
“Eddie did you give Isla another chocolate Santa? She’s gonna have no teeth left soon!” Steve whines as he steps into the room. He stops when he sees you, his eyes widening.
“Wow. Y/N you look… wow.”
“Put your tongue back in your head Harrington.” Eddie quips.
Steve shakes his head quickly, like he was trying to shake whatever thoughts he was having out of his brain. He rakes his hand through his chestnut locks, smoothing them back into place as he steps towards you. Your heart thumps in your chest when you’re sandwiched between the two men, Steve pulling you by the waist so you are flush against him, with Eddie pressed to your back.
You can hear your heart beat in your ears, skin tingling with anticipation at the way they held you so close. With Eddie’s warm breath on your bare shoulder and Steve’s face just inches from yours it felt like you were all stood at the edge of some invisible line of resistance. You wonder if they are as desperate to cross it as you.
“I think we should give Y/N her gift now Ed.” Steve whispers. Behind you Eddie nods, and Steve turns to squat down besides the tree. He moves a few presents aside, pulling forwards a large gift bag from the bag, full to burst with parcels.
“Jesus guys. Please tell me they’re not all for me.”
“What?” Steve grins. “They’re from the kids!” He plucks a small box from the top of the bag, pressing it into your hands.
“Except for this. This ones from the two of us.”
“You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“Yes we did. And don’t think I didn’t notice the presents you slipped under the tree for us naughty girl.” Eddie teases. Your face grows warm at his words.
“Open it honey.” Steve encourages.
With a slight tremble in your hands you carefully untie the ribbon, pulling away the green paper to reveal a ruby velvet box. You gingerly lift the lid, gasping when you see what’s inside.
A thin delicate silver chain rests on the cream satin cushion within the box. From it hangs a teardrop shaped milky white stone, flecks of pink and turquoise glinting in the lights from the tree. It’s beautiful.
“It’s an opal. They’re your favourite, right?” You nod, too stunned for words, your mind racing back trying to recall when you’d mentioned that, giddy at the thought that they’d remembered such a small detail.
“Do you like it baby?” Your eyes flick up to the two men before you, both looking hesitant.
“I- I love it. Thank you. Thank you both so much. It’s too much, really. But it’s perfect.”
Eddie grins while Steve exhales a sigh of relief. Eddie takes the box from you, slipping a finger under the chain and lifting it out.
“Turn around.” You do as he asks, holding your breath as he loops the necklace around your neck, his warm fingers brushing the skin at the nape of your neck while he fiddles with the clasp. The cool metal erupts your skin into goosebumps, and you trace a finger across the smooth stone where it rests on your sternum. You face them again, their eyes taking in the jewellery hanging across your collarbones.
“Beautiful.” Steve breathes.
The sharp sound of the doorbell echoing through the room snaps the three of you out of the tenderness of the moment.
“Guess it’s time to get the party started.” Eddie says, heading to the front door. The soft clack of Isla’s shoes on the tiles floor approaches, and as the door swings open she let out an excited squeal.
“Unckie Wayne!” She flies passed you and Steve, jumping up into the open arms of the older man bopping down in the doorway. He holds her in a tight hug, burying his face in her curls.
“There’s my best girl!” he coos as he lifts her up, stepping in from the cold.
Eddie pulls Wayne in for a hug, Isla squished between the two of them. Steve approaches, clapping his hand down on Wayne’s shoulder.
“Good to see you man.”
“You too son.”
Wayne’s eyes drift over Steve’s shoulder and land on you where you’re stood awkwardly by the tree.
“I see I’m not the first one here.”
“Wayne, this is Y/N.” Eddie smiles.
Wayne puts Isla down, stepping towards you with a kind smile on his lined face.
“Nice to finally meet you Y/N. I’ve heard lots about you.”
You extend your hand to shake his, “all good I hope.”
He laughs, moving your hand away and pulling you in for a hug.
“All very good. I don’t know who’s more fond of you, Isla or the boys.” You grin at Eddie who rolls his eyes.
“Okay okay. Let’s not stand around in the hallway all day, we’ve got drinks in the kitchen.”
————————————————————————
Over the next half hour the rest of the guests begin to arrive. You smile as you make your way through the group of people, allowing Eddie and Steve to introduce you to all their friends as Ben babbles away happily on your hip, chewing on his chubby hands and drooling everywhere.
“Rob, Nance, this is our friend Y/N.” Steve beams to the two women, who you recognise from various photos around the house.
“Nice to meet you Y/N.” Nancy smiles.
“You too! And who’s this little cutie?” You ask, waving at the dark haired boy hiding behind Robins legs.
“This is Charlie. Come on kiddo, don’t be shy.” Robin says. Charlie looks down at the floor, a small smile on his face as he rocks back on his heels.
“Hi Charlie. I think Isla is in the living room, do you want to go play with her?”
He nods, and you hold out your free hand to him which he tentatively takes. He glances back at his Mom’s who give him a reassuring nod, and he lets you lead him to where Isla is twirling around in the living room to Mariah Carey.
“Y/N! Dance!” Isla shouts, her arms raised up. You put Ben down in his bouncer seat before picking her up, spinning her around and bopping her from side to side.
“Those are some killer moves you’ve got there Y/N.”
“Shut up Munson.”
Eddie steps into the room, sipping a glass of champagne and holding out another to you. You put Isla down despite her protests, leaving her to dance with Charlie as you sip your drink.
“Having fun?”
“Yeah! All your friends are so nice!”
Eddie chuckles. “Yeah they’re pretty great.”
He’s a little tipsy already, his shirt rumpled and untucked, and the tie you’d so carefully knotted now loose and lopsided. You tut, adjusting the tie and smoothing his collar.
The doorbell rings again, distracting you from your fussing.
“Oh, that might be my Mom!” You say, heading out to the hall. Eddie and Steve had been quite insistent that your Mom be invited along, and she’d been so pleased when you told her they wanted her there.
You open the door as though it was your own home, pulling your Mom in for a hug.
“Honey, you look amazing!” She smiles, stepping back to admire your outfit.
“So do you! Eddie this is my Mom!”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Eddie says. He takes her coat, eyeing up the figure hugging red dress she wears beneath it.
“Wow, Y/N. You never told me your Mom was such a fox.” Your Mom giggles like a school girl at his charm while you roll your eyes and groan.
“Ed, stop it.”
“Absolutely not. Are you single?”
“I am actually.” Your Mom laughs. Eddie grabs her hand, pulling her towards the kitchen.
“Good. Then I want to introduce you to my Uncle Wayne.”
————————————————————————
The party was great, everyone laughing and joking together, drinking a lot of champagne and nibbling on the canapés the caterers had prepared. You’re dancing with your Mom when you see Isla yawning widely from her spot on the couch.
“You tired honey?” You say, scooping her up into your arms.
“No.” She mumbles, although her drooping eyelids give her away.
“I think it’s time for bed sweetpea. You need to go to sleep so Santa can come and bring your presents!” You’re surprised that she doesn’t offer more protest, her body heavy with exhaustion as she buries her face in your neck.
“Let’s find Daddy and Dada so you can say goodnight.”
“Mom I’m just going to put little one to bed. You okay here for a few minutes?”
“Of course honey, maybe I’ll go talk to Wayne again.” she says with a wiggle of her eyebrows. She gently sweeps a curl out of Isla’s face.
“Goodnight Isla. It was nice to meet you.”
The little girl gives a small wave of her fingers in return before you carry her out in search of her Dads.
You find them on the back patio, shivering in the cold as they talk to Will and Mike. A cigarette hangs between Eddie’s teeth, and you can’t help but admire his neck as he tilts his head back, blowing a large cloud of smoke up into the freezing air.
Steve spots you in the doorway, holding Isla closer to protect her from the chill breeze blowing in.
“Hey, is she ready for her bed?” he asks. You nod.
“I was going to take her up now, she just wants her kisses.” The boys all smile as they step inside, shutting the sliding doors behind them. Will places a peck on Isla’s cheek as him and Mike head back to the others in the living room.
“Do you want me and Daddy to put you to bed baby?” Steve whispers, stroking his large hand across his daughters back.
“No. Y/N do it.” He chuckles, tilting her head back to kiss her cheeks. Eddie does the same, ruffling her curls after.
“Night kiddo. See you in the morning. I love you.”
She just about mumbles a love you back, before her head lolls against your shoulder.
When you get her upstairs you lay her down on her bed, manoeuvring her limbs so you can get her out of her party dress and into her Christmas PJs. You really should brush her teeth given the amount of chocolate she’s eaten, but she’s almost passed out, so you tuck her in tightly, giving her your own goodnight kisses.
“See you in the morning.” She mumbles.
“No baby, I won’t be here in the morning.” She whines in protest and you shush her softly.
“It’s okay, you’ll have Christmas with Dada and Daddy, Ben and Uncle Wayne. And I’ll come see you in a few days, you can show me all your presents.” She nods, her head flopping back on the pillow. She’s sound asleep before you’ve even closed her bedroom door.
The party starts to wind down, Robin and Nancy carrying a passed out Charlie back to their car. The others filter out gradually, all hugging each other tight and calling Merry Christmas as they head out the door. Eventually it’s just you and your Mom left. Wayne says goodnight, making his way up to one of the spare rooms (not before you spy him and your Mom exchanging numbers, much to Eddie’s amusement). Eddie and Steve both hug your Mom goodbye, helping to carry your gifts and clothes from earlier out to the car.
“I’ll get the car warmed up while you say goodbye.” your Mom whispers to you with one last wave to the boys before she closes the front door behind her.
You’re alone with the two men. You suddenly feel an anxiousness you can’t explain, like you don’t know what to say.
“W-well thanks for a lovely evening. Have a nice Christmas both of you.”
“You too honey. And get home safe.” Steve smiles. There’s a pause. You eyeball Eddie who shifts uncomfortably, wringing his hands in front of him, chunky silver rings shining in the light.
“You could stay you know. Both of you, it’s pretty late, and it’s icy out.” he murmurs.
“It’s okay Ed. We should get home, and let you guys enjoy your Christmas with your family.” He frowns slightly then.
“You’re part of our family y’know. I-I mean. We think if you like that.”
Like what, you wonder. How exactly do they think of you?
You step towards him, looping your arms around his neck as you hug him tight. His arms snake around your waist, holding you so firm like he could keep you here if he just held on enough. You breathe in deeply, losing yourself in his scent. The same apple shampoo you used on Isla, lingering cigarette smoke, his cologne a heady mix of bourbon and cedar. It makes you feel safe.
“I’ll see you in a few days.” You say with a smile as you pull back from him. He maintains his hold on your waist.
You hear a soft chuckle, and you look across at Steve. His face is turned up, grinning with amusement at the decoration hanging above your heads. You follow his eyes to see it for yourself. A few sprigs of soft leaves, with shining white berries, hanging from a golden ribbon. Mistletoe.
It was a moment that passed in mere seconds, but the time felt sluggish, each movement deliberate and slow like moving through thick treacle. Your eyes lowered from the mistletoe, meeting Eddie’s obsidian orbs. His hands on your waist trembled slightly. You could see the exact moment that he lost the last of his resolve. He leant into you, tipping you both over that invisible line that had blurred with each longing look and touch over the last few months.
His lips pressed against yours, and your eyelids fluttered closed as your forgot yourself for a moment. You weren’t thinking about where you were, who else was present, the million and one reasons why you shouldn’t be doing this. All you could focus on was the feeling of Eddie’s warm chapped lips brushing against your own. It was heart achingly sweet, months of feelings poured into the most chaste meeting of mouths.
Then reality hit.
You pull back with a gasp, pushing firmly against Eddie’s chest which sends him stumbling back a few steps. His eyes widen in panic, instantly wet with tears.
“I-I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t done that. Y/N please I’m so sorry.” He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the knotted curls in frustration.
“No, n-no. It’s okay, I just-“ the words die on your tongue. You’re so confused, your body so tense you begin to shake. He was sorry, he shouldn’t have done it. He regretted it. He kissed you and instantly regretted it. You feel your heart shatter in your chest, the ache knocking the breathe out of you. Of course he regrets it, he’s married, he- fuck. Steve.
You dare a glance across at him, terrified of his reaction. You just kissed his husband, right in front of his face, in his own home. Your friendship was done for, that much was a given. You blink rapidly, trying to shake the tears that blur his features.
“Steve?” Your voice comes out a broken whimper, the lump in your throat threatening to entirely close your airway.
Hazel eyes meet yours. There’s no hatred, no fury. Instead, there’s the same tenderness you always get from Steve, along with something else. Something you’ve caught glimpses of here and there, but now it had risen to the surface, the copper flecks in his eyes burning with an intense flame. Longing.
Warm hands cup your cheeks, calloused thumbs gently swiping away the tears that spill over your lash line. Steve’s eyes bore into you, searching, pleading.
You’re panicking, breathing too fast while your brain screams a thousand thoughts at once. You wrap your fingers around his wrists, not to pull his hands away, but to ground yourself. You feel his pulse fluttering under your finger tips, as quick as your own. You see his eyes, kind and warm as ever. You smell his aftershave, pine and vetiver, and the expensive champagne on his breath. And you hear your name, falling from his lips in the sweetest whisper.
Steve kisses you with a firmer pressure than Eddie. One hand moves to cup the back of your head, the other still cradling your cheek. You melt at his touch, shoulders relaxing as a quiet sigh parts your lips. It’s over all too quickly, his hands dropping to his sides. The three of you stand in a tension filled silence, the realisation of what’s just occurred weighing heavy. Maybe you should stay, talk about what’s happened, there’s clearly a lot that needs to be said. But fear seeps into your bones, and you step back on wobbling legs.
“I’m gonna go.” you whisper, not meeting either of their eyes. Neither man makes a move to stop you. You turn without another word, slipping out the front door and walking to your Mom’s car in a daze.
“You okay honey?” She says as you sink down into your seat.
“Fine.” You lie. “Just tired.”
————————————————————————
Christmas has always been your favourite holiday. The quiet home that just you and your Mom share suddenly a hive of activity, your Uncle cracking corny jokes, your Aunt bustling around in the kitchen with your Mom, Grandparents watching fondly as you play with your young cousins.
Today is different. You feel like you’re on the outside looking in, watching some movie of a happy family enjoying the holiday, while you sit alone on the couch, grey clouds swirling around your mind. You’d barely slept last night. Hot tears spilling from the corners of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and soaking the pillow beneath you. Your blood ran hot with shame, stomach twisting and churning as guilt wrecked you. You’d had some fuck ups in your life but none like this. The simple fact that both men had kissed you was lost on you, too embroiled in your own self loathing at potentially destroying their happy family with your selfish want.
The clattering of cutlery and tinkling of your mothers best glasses echos around you as you aimlessly push food around your plate. You’re zoning out, watching with listless eyes as your Aunt desperately tries to convince her youngest to eat their carrots when your phone vibrates in your pocket.
You sneak a glance down, slipping the phone out and sucking in a sharp breath as Steve’s name flashes on the screen.
With a swipe of your thumb his message opens.
Hey honey, Merry Christmas! Isla wants to speak to you, you free to FaceTime?
Your eyes flicker across the table, making sure no one’s paying you any attention, the last thing you want is another lecture from your Grandpa about phones at the dinner table.
Merry Christmas! Sure, will call you in a bit
You reach for your wine with a shaking hand, taking a small sip as the screen illuminates in your lap again.
Can’t wait ❤️
All it takes is a tiny collection of red pixels for your heart to sore with hope again. Maybe they don’t hate you after all?
“Y/N!”
Your head snaps up, all eyes at the table on you.
“Grandpa just asked you three times to pass the gravy.” your Mom huffs.
“Oops, sorry!” You lock your phone screen with a click, sliding it back into your pocket.
“She’s on that damn phone that’s why!” Grandpa starts, “See this is what’s wrong with this generation…”
After lunch you sneak away upstairs to your room, wanting the peace and quiet while you call Steve. You quickly check your reflection in your vanity mirror, fluffing up your hair and applying a quick swipe of lip gloss. A glint catches your eye, your new necklace twinkling in the open velvet box. You hadn’t wanted to put it on this morning, not needing a reminder of last nights events hanging like weight around your neck. But now you feel differently, and you know they boys will want to see you in it. You slip the chain around your neck, fiddling with the clasp, smiling to yourself remembering how Eddie had fastened it for you before.
Sitting cross legged on your bed, back nestled against the cushions by your headboard you pick up your phone and call Steve. It rings a few times before Isla’s face fills the screen. Well, the bottom half of her face, all you can see is her pouty lips and pointy chin, the phone held so close her breath fogs up the camera.
“Merry Christmas!” She shouts.
“Merry Christmas Isla! Honey you need to hold the phone back, I can’t see you!”
You hear Steve’s voice in the background.
“Isla let me hold it.”
“No Dada! I do it!”
“But Y/N can’t see your pretty face!” You laugh at the scuffling sound of them fighting over the phone, and Steve eventually wins, holding it in a steady hand so you can see Isla sitting on the couch in the Princess dress you bought for her.
“What do you say?” Steve whispers.
“Thank you for my presents!”
“You’re very welcome baby! Do you like your dress?”
She nods, small hands smoothing the layers of pink tulle covering her legs.
Eddie thumps down on the couch beside her.
“Did you like your gifts Y/N?” he asks.
“I haven’t opened them yet. We don’t do gifts until after lunch.”
“What?!”
“Not everyone tears through them all in under 5 minutes like you Ed.” Steve teases.
“Where’s Ben?” you ask, and Steve moves the phone so you can see the baby happily bouncing on Wayne’s knee.
“Hi sweetie!” You coo. “And Merry Christmas Wayne!”
“Merry Christmas to you too darlin’.” He replies in his gruff voice. “You and your Mom having a good day?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Wish her well for me.”
“I will.” You nod, giggling as Eddie wolf whistles off camera.
Steve turns the phone back to Isla, letting her chatter away to you for a while, showing you some of the presents she got from Santa.
“Y/N! We’re going to open gifts now!” Your Mom calls up the stairs.
“Okay, be there in a minute!” You shout back.
“Isla, say goodbye to Y/N.” Eddie instructs. She pouts.
“Noooo. Not yet.”
“Baby she has to go see her family.”
“I’ll talk to you soon though! When I come over next we can have a tea party with your new set!” That cheers her up enough, and she smiles giving you a wave.
“Bye honey.”
“Bye Eddie, enjoy the rest of your day!”
Steve turns the camera on himself, a shy smile on his lips.
“You mind if I keep you for just a minute longer?” He asks.
“Sure.”
He stands, walking through to the kitchen, leaning against the island when he speaks again.
“How’re you doing?”
You pause, sensing his anxiety through the screen.
“I’m okay.”
He sighs. “Good. I - we were worried. You know, that we upset you last night.”
“I’m not upset. Just.. confused I guess.”
He nods, tugging his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, I know. Look, we understand if- if you don’t want to come around here anymore.” Your heart sinks at the pain evident in his voice, the fear in his eyes.
“No, no. I still want to come around, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Steve’s shoulders sink as he relaxes, exhaling deeply like he’s blowing out all the tension he’s carried since last night.
“Great. Well, what are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing. You need me to watch the kids? Are you going out somewhere?”
“No, we’ll be here. Just want to see you, that’s all. I mean the kids. The kids want to see you.”
“The kids huh?” You tease, raising your eyebrows.
He gives you that crooked grin that gives you butterflies.
“I’ll be there.”
“Cool. Come over anytime.”
“Okay. I really have to go now Stevie. Bye.”
“Bye honey.”
————————————————————————
You let yourself into the house, kicking off your snow covered boots by the door. You slowly shed your layers, hanging up your coat and unwinding you cashmere scarf (one of your gifts from the boys) from around your neck. The house is unusually quiet, and you drift down the hallway, listening out for any signs of life. As you approach the living room you can hear faint music, so you push through the door, peering round and smiling at the sweet sight before you. Wayne sits dozing in the plush armchair, his head dropping to the side. Eddie and Steve sit on the couch, Isla snuggled in the middle under a fluffy pink blanket. Ben lies sleeping on Eddie’s chest, a large ringed hand gently stroking his back that rises and falls with each breath. The two younger men turn their heads at the sound of the door, smiling when they see you.
“Y/N!” Isla squeals in delight, trying to kick the blanket off her legs so she can jump up to greet you.
“Hey, hey easy.” Eddie warns, trying to keep Ben from waking at the sudden movement.
“It’s okay Isla, stay there.” You whisper, making your way to the couch. Steve shuffles up, making just enough room for you to sit between him and his daughter. You lean back, pulling the blanket over your legs and lifting your arm for Isla to nuzzle into your side.
“Missed you.” She says, voice muffled by your sweater as she buries her face in.
“Missed you too sweetie.”
She turns her attention back to The Polar Express playing on the large flatscreen.
“Hey.” Steve says softly.
“Hey” you smile back. “You’re wearing the sweater I got you!”
“Yeah, I love it. Thank you sweetie.” Eddie clears his throat and when you turn to face him he raises his free hand, the leather bracelet you gave him sliding down his wrist.
“Thanks for this too angel. You spoil us.”
You scoff then. “Please, one sweater and a bracelet is nothing compared to how overboard you guys went.”
“Hey we just wanted to show you how much we appreciate you.” Eddie grins.
“Well thank you. It was too much, but I’m grateful really.”
You sit in a peaceful quiet watching the rest of the movie together, your head resting on Steve’s shoulder. When it’s over, you spend the rest of the day playing with the kids, making good on your promise of a tea party with Isla. It’s lovely, all of you enjoying a lazy day together pottering around the house, laughing and joking, nibbling on left over party food.
In the early evening Wayne makes his way upstairs to pack his things, Eddie following behind him. He returns a few moments later with a small pink suitcase and a bag packed with Ben’s clothes and diapers.
“The kids are going for a sleepover tonight at Wayne’s.” He explains.
“That’s lovely! Are you excited honey?” You ask Isla. She nods, holding out her small arms as Steve slips her coat over her princess dress.
Wayne carries the bags out to the car, then takes Ben from your arms.
“Nice to see you again.”
“You too Wayne.” you smile.
Isla says her goodbyes, demanding extra kisses from the three of you before she leaves.
“Be a good girl for Uncle Wayne!” Steve calls from the door.
“I always a good girl!” She shouts back over her shoulder.
Once they’re gone you step towards your own coat hanging by the door.
“I guess I should get going too.”
“Actually,” Steve says, stepping between you and the coat rack, “we were hoping you’d stay and have dinner with us.”
“Oh.” your stomach knots at the thought of being alone with the two men. You want to stay of course, but you’re hesitant, knowing that eventually you’ll all have to address the elephant in the room.
“You don’t have to.” Eddie whispers, his large eyes boring into yours.
“I know. But I’d like to.” you reply, deciding you’ll have to face it eventually. Might as well be now.
————————————————————————
Perched on a stool by the island in the kitchen, you sip on a glass of expensive wine, watching Steve start the dinner. He shoos Eddie away when he offers to help and you giggle, knowing that he’s worried about the inevitable mess Eddie will make. The curly haired boy takes a seat beside you, pouring himself a large glass from the bottle in front of you.
With the sauce simmering away, Steve starts to heat the water for the pasta. While he waits for it to boil, he turns and leans against the counter beside the hob. He takes a large gulp of wine, and you notice the tremble in his hand as he lowers his glass.
“So.” he begins. “Maybe we should talk about.. you know. Christmas Eve.”
The wine in your own mouth turns bitter on your tongue, anxiety bubbling up inside you.
“Sure.” You’d hoped your voice would sound casual, but it comes out as a small squeak.
Eddie fidgets in the chair next to you, his fingers tapping a nervous drum beat on the island.
“We’re sorry Y/N. For making you uncomfortable. It was never our intention, I guess we just- just got carried away. Misread the signs.”
You look up at the man across from you.
“I told you Steve, I wasn’t upset, or uncomfortable. I’m just.. confused. I don’t really understand.”
Steve nods, chewing on his lip.
“I get that. It’s fair. M-maybe we should just explain a bit, about what we’ve been thinking.”
You don’t say anything, just give him a small nod of permission.
He sighs deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts his weight.
“Well, we. We uh- Ed help me out here man.”
You glance across at Eddie, who won’t look at you, his eyes locked on his wine glass.
“We like you Y/N. A lot. We kind of hoped you liked us too, in the same way.”
“What way?” You whisper. You know, it’s obvious now, but you need to hear them say it before you make a fool of yourself.
“We like having you around, you’re so good with the kids, they love you. B-but we like having you around for us too. You make us both really happy. We didn’t feel like anything was missing before, our lives were perfect. But when you came along we realised maybe things could be better, w-with you.”
You can’t speak, can’t think, the weight of Eddie’s admission crushing you. You’re still confused. Do they just want to mess around with you, or is it more than that?
“Please say something honey.” Steve pleads.
You wring your hands in your lap, trying to find the right words.
“Is this - fuck. Like, is this something you’ve done before? Did your last babysitter..?”
“No! Christ no! We haven’t - it’s not like a thing that we-.” Steve stammers, stumbling forward to the island, large hands splayed out on the cool marble.
“This hasn’t happened before honey. There’s been no one else before you.” Eddie says quietly.
“So, you two have never, y’know. With a girl, together?”
Steve and Eddie exchange a quick glance.
“We have, a couple of times.” Eddie admits. A viscous jealousy twists your guts, acid rising in your throat. “But when we were younger, and it was only ever a one night thing. Never anything serious.”
That calms your irrational fury somewhat. You’d never given much thought to the two of them with another girl before, and the image of it in your mind had sickened you. But you felt relief knowing it hadn’t happened for a long time, and it never meant anything to them. You still couldn’t help but wonder though, would this be the same? Were they just looking to satiate some curiosity, using you for a one night stand before shutting you out.
As though he read your thoughts Steve moves quickly to your side, holding your cheek in his hand and tilting your head back to look up at him. The spotlights in the kitchen ceiling cast a warm glow around his head, he looks like an angel.
“That’s not what we want with you though Y/N. This is different. We - we want more. We care about you a lot honey.”
“You’re important to us. Special.” Eddie confirms.
“You’re important to me. Both of you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but they both hear you. Steve smiles down at you tenderly, smoothing his thumb across the warm skin of your cheek. He cups your face in both hands, his touch light enough that you could pull away if you wanted to, not that you do. He bends down, his lips hovering above your own. You don’t dare breathe, chest tight with anticipation.
“Steve. Please.”
His eyelids flutter shut as he presses his lips against yours. It’s gentle, chaste, just like the first kiss you shared under the mistletoe. But you’re determined for more, tracing your tongue along the seam of his lips until he parts them, allowing you to tentatively explore his mouth. His tongue meets yours, gently pressing past your lips until he’s moaning softly at your taste. Your lungs scream, and you realise you still haven’t taken a breath, going lightheaded. You pull away with a gasp, dizzy from the lack of oxygen and drunk on Steve’s kiss. His plump lips are swollen and pink, shining with spit in the soft light. His eyes flick to Eddie, who stands and spins your stool until you’re turned to face him. Taking your hands in his he pulls you to your feet, a strong arm looping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. The other hand rests on the side of your neck as he kisses you deeply. He’s not as gentle as Steve, an eagerness taking over, his nose pressed against your cheek as he holds you tight enough to crush you. Your fingers grip his curls, pulling just enough to have him moaning against your lips. Steve’s hand rests over yours, and Eddie breaks your kiss, turning to the man now pressed against your back. They share a kiss with no hesitation or uncertainty, they’ve kissed each other for years, knowing every corner of each others mouths like their own. You watch in awe, listening to their soft grunts and sighs, your thighs clenching together searching for any kind of friction. Eddie pulls away from Steve with a smirk, looking down at you sandwiched between them.
“What’s with all the wriggling honey? Are you feeling a little needy?”
You nod dumbly, pouting up at him.
He kisses you sweetly, murmuring against your lips.
“Do you want to go upstairs?”
“Yes. Please.”
Eddie tugs your hands, pulling you out into the hall while Steve quickly kills the flames on the stove, the meal he’d been preparing now the last thing on all of your minds. The three of you race up the spiral staircase, giggling as you go, until you burst into their bedroom at the back of the house.
Eddie’s hot mouth meets yours again, his tongue licking into you as he walks you back to the bed. You lay down, the weight of his body pressing you into the plush mattress while his hands roam across your body, gripping your waist, your hips, your thighs.
“God, I’ve been dreaming about this.” He groans between kisses.
“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly. “What did you dream about?”
He sits up, eyes blown with lust so his pupils almost entirely swallow the chocolate brown.
“Do you want me to tell you sweet thing? Or can we show you?”
“Show me. Please.” Your voice sounds foreign to you, a high pitched lilt you’ve never heard come from yourself before.
Eddie shuffles off the bed, standing and pulling his shirt up over his head. You take in the new areas of skin now exposed to you, smooth alabaster littered with dark ink, silky hairs trailing from below his belly button down into his sweatpants. He comes to sit behind you, pulling you firmly so you lay with your back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. Steve removes his own shirt, slowly undoing each button until he can slip it off, revealing his muscular torso, thick hair spreading across his chest that has your mouth watering. When he crawls across the bed towards you you spy a tattoo he’d kept well hidden, elegant black lettering across his wide ribs.
Eddie
Isla
Benjamin
Goosebumps raise on his flesh where your fingers trace the lettering. He nuzzles into your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin until he makes his way down to the top of your sweater.
“Wanna see you baby. Can we take this off?”
You nod eagerly, and Eddie grips the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up quickly and dropping it down beside the bed. He motions for you to lay back against him, but first you unhook your bra, shimmying the black lace down your arms and discarding it. You feel a smug sense of pride at Steve’s reaction, his jaw hanging open at the sight of your bare chest.
Ringed hands slide up your stomach to cup your breasts, cold metal biting into warm flesh as Eddie kneads you gently in his large palms. His calloused fingers brush your pebbled nipples, rolling them between his finger tips which has you mewling. Steve watches the show unfold before him, eyes darting from your chest, to your face, to Eddie.
“Jesus Christ you two are going to be the death of me.” He mutters, pressing his face into the valley between your breasts, leaving hot open mouth kisses on your skin. Eddie removes one hand so Steve’s lips can envelop your nipple, your back arching as you try to suppress a moan.
“No no honey.” Eddie scolds lightly. “We want to hear all your pretty sounds.”
With a firmer squeeze of your breast and a flick of Steve’s tongue you have no choice but to give in, whining loudly, the sound filling the large bedroom.
“Good girl.” Eddie says, turning your face up to him. You see the mischievous glint in his eye, he knows exactly what he’s doing, his words threatening to have you soaking right through your panties.
Steve works his way down your body, kissing your chest and your stomach until his mouth arrives at the waistband of your leggings. His fingers hook beneath the material and you buck your hips up in a silent invitation to remove them. He slides them slowly down your legs, tossing them behind him and leaving you almost naked before him, just a thin layer of white cotton keeping him from where you want him most.
“These are pretty.” Eddie hums, his finger pulling the elastic of your panties and allowing it to snap back to your skin with a small sting.
“They are.” Steve murmurs in agreement, his hands on your knees parting your legs until your thighs fall apart.
“And they’re soaked too.” Steve’s grin is devilish, a look you’ve never seen from him that has you blushing to the tips of your ears. You cover your face in your hands, but Eddie tuts, pulling your hands away in his firm grip.
“Don’t go shy on us baby”
Steves long fingers dance up your inner thighs, making you squirm. He stops at the edge of your underwear, looking at you with an intense stare.
“I want to taste you Y/N. Is that okay?”
“Yes Steve! Please.” you whine, hips wriggling as your pussy throbs in anticipation of his touch. He slips your underwear down, and your legs fall apart again, exposing your most intimate parts to him. You’d feel vulnerable, if it wasn’t for the adoring look on Steve’s face, and Eddie arms wrapped tight around you, soft kisses pressed to you cheek.
Steve lays between your legs, his face so close to your aching core you can feel his hot breath on your skin. His thumbs gently part your lips, slick with your arousal, causing you to shudder. When he flattens his tongue against you, licking a broad strip from your hole up to your clit you cry out his name, hips bucking desperately to chase his tongue.
Eddie chuckles behind you, releasing your hands and pressing against your thighs, pinning you in place. Steve kitten licks at your clit, and you know already you won’t last long, months of wanting this moment leaving you sensitive and shaking. He buries his face into you, lapping at your entrance, his nose brushing your bundle of nerves. You slide your fingers into his hair, the soft tresses held between your fingers as you keep him where you need him. Eddie’s hand lands across you own.
“You can be a little firmer Y/N. Stevie doesn’t mind it a little mean.” He says, scrunching your fingers until you’re pulling hard on Steve’s hair. He groans loudly in response, the vibrations rocking through your core.
“Fuck. Fuck, please Steve. Don’t stop, please.”
He eats you like a man starved, his tongue pushing into your entrance as your walls clamp down on the wet muscle. The room fills with lewd sounds, Steve slurping at your wetness as you whimper and moan. When he replaces his tongue with two fingers, curling inside you and pressing on a spot no one has ever reached before your muscles tighten, your orgasm washing over you as you cum with a loud cry. Each pump of his fingers causes another wave of pleasure to hit you, and he suckles your clit hard enough to have you seeing stars.
As you come down from your high you feel Eddie stroking your face, wiping away tears you didn’t realise had spilled. Steve sits up, his mouth and chin glistening with your release. He crawls up your body, peppering kisses on your sweat dampened skin, finally reaching your mouth. The kiss is slow, passionate, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His mouth leaves yours and he tilts his head back to kiss Eddie, who hums as he captures your taste for himself. While they kiss you snake a hand down, cupping the hard bulge pressing against the zipper of Steve’s jeans.
“Fuck.” He gasps.
“Wanna make you feel good now Steve.” He kisses you sweetly, then pulls away, pushing your hand back to your side.
“That’s sweet baby, but I think Eddie needs some attention, don’t you?”
You tilt your head back, looking up into Eddie’s dark eyes. You’re suddenly aware of his hard length digging into your back, he’s clearly got worked up watching Steve devour you.
“Is that okay with you Y/N?” He asks, a hint of insecurity in his voice.
“Mmmhmm. Want you Ed.”
It’s all the confirmation he needs, standing from the bed and hurriedly shoving down his sweatpants and boxers, his hard cock springing free. He’s long and thick, the head flushed deep red and leaking already. Steve manoeuvres himself into Eddie’s previous spot, pulling you to lay back against him, his hands massaging your breasts. Eddie digs through their bedside table, a frown forming as he shoves various items aside in his search.
“Shit.”
“What’s up?” Steve asks.
“We don’t have any condoms.”
“I’m on the pill.” You offer in a small voice.
Eddie turns to look at you, eyes round with concern.
“Baby, w-we. We can’t- we don’t have to if-“
“It’s been a long time,” you say meekly, eyes falling down to your lap. “I-I don’t have anything, y’know..”
“God baby, no, it’s not that! I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. W-we can wait.”
“I know I don’t have to. But I want to.” You reach out to hold his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. “I want to feel you.”
Eddie groans, dragging his free hand down his face.
“Shit baby, you can’t say things like that, I’ll blow my load just standing here.” You giggle then, pulling him to you. He clambers back onto the bed, positioning himself between your spread legs, kissing you softly, as his calloused fingers swiping down your slit. Your thighs tremble from the lingering sensitivity.
“Christ you’re so wet Y/N. Stevie made you feel real good huh?”
“Mmhmm.”
Mixing your slick with the precum leaking from his tip, Eddie lubricates his length with a few firm pumps, his eyes never leaving yours. He leans forward, capturing Steve’s lips in a soft kiss above your head, before his mouth drops to the shell of your ear.
“I’ll go slow okay? And I’ll stop if you want. Just tell me what you need okay baby?”
“Okay.”
The fat head of his cock presses against your clit, your hips canting up eagerly to take him. Eddie chuckles to himself, guiding his length down to your entrance, pressing forward just enough to have the tip breaching. Letting out a soft gasp your eyes drop to where your bodies meet, the two of you watching in awe as he slowly sinks into your sopping heat. The stretch is intense, a sting causing tears to prickle in your eyes. Steve’s bear paw like hand wraps around your own, fingers interlacing as he gives you a reassuring squeeze. He mumbles praises and sweet words into your ear as you relax enough to take Eddie to the hilt, his pelvis flush with yours when he bottoms out. You look up at the boy looming over you, his brows knitted and jaw slack, beads of sweat already forming at his hairline. He’s still, his hands massaging the doughy flesh of your hips, giving you the time you need to adjust.
You cross your ankles behind his lower back, caging him in as you sweep loose curls out of his face and tuck them behind his ear.
“You can m-move now.”
Eddie rolls his hips back slowly, pulling out halfway before sinking back into you. You can feel every inch of him, your walls clamping down on his thick cock, each drag and press so delicious you’re both whimpering and moaning within seconds. Time slows as you get lost in each other, hips moving in perfect unison. Sharp fingernails dig into the rippling muscles in his shoulders as you try to pull him deeper and deeper. Eddie hisses against your neck, his cock twitching as the pain melts with pleasure. He speeds up in retaliation, knowing without words what you’re begging him for. Each harsh snap of his hips has the tip of his cock kissing your cervix, punching wanton moans from your chest as your struggle for breath.
“F-fuck. I can’t - I, I’m not gonna last much l-longer. Baby I’m sorry, are you close?” Eddie’s ragged breath mixes with your own, and unable to speak you nod desperately, kissing him sloppily as your hurtle towards another orgasm.
Steve presses wet kisses to the side of your neck as his hand that doesn’t hold your own moves down from your breast, dancing across the skin of your stomach and coming to rest on your mound. He expertly rubs tight circles against your clit his middle finger, causing your pussy to clench even harder around Eddie. The combination of Steve ministrations and Eddie’s thrusts has you teetering on the edge, body humming like a live wire.
“Shit. Steve, Eddie- please. Feels so good, please.” you babble mindlessly.
Steve sucks hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Come on honey, let us have it.”
Electricity courses through your veins, each muscle spasming and pulsing with an intensity that has you gasping for breath. You writhe desperately, throat aching from the scream that tears out. Steve’s grip on your hand never falters, grounding you. Eddie’s movements become sloppy, his hips stuttering until he’s cumming with a deep groan, warm seed spilling into you. His body flops over yours but you don’t mind, enjoying his weight pressing you into Steve, as your hands smooth across his perspiration soaked skin.
Time loses all meaning, the three of you laying for what could be hours, hands wandering and stroking, lips finding new areas of skin to decorate with kisses. You and Eddie pant, basking in your post orgasm daze, until he rolls off of you, laying on his back and grinning across at you and Steve.
“You okay sweetie?”
“Yeah Ed, I’m okay.” You say with a small smile, sitting up and stretching out your sore limbs, joints clicking. You glance over your shoulder at Steve, watching as he lovingly strokes damp stray curls out of Eddie’s face. He must sense you watching him and he looks up at you, smiling shyly, which makes you giggle given the fact that he’d just had his head buried between your legs, then watched his husband fuck you senseless. Your eyes drop to his lap, the bulge in his jeans still present, pressing painfully hard against the fabric.
You shuffle up the bed to reach him, nuzzling your face across the stubble on his jaw, kissing his neck sweetly.
“Do I get to feel you now Stevie?” you breathe, nibbling at his ear lobe.
Steve tilts your face to his, kissing the corner of your mouth before resting his forehead against yours, tips of your noses brushing.
“Not tonight honey.” he whispers, just a hint of disappointment in his tone. “S’too much for you after all that.”
“But that’s not fair for you.” you protest.
“It’s okay Y/N.” Eddie says, rolling onto his front. “I can take care of Steve.” A wide grin spreads across Steve’s face as he looks down at his husband.
“Get those jeans off big boy.”
Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. With one more quick kiss to your lips he fumbles to undo his belt buckle, lifting his hips to shove his jeans and underwear down. You help him out, pulling the material off his long legs until he’s completely naked.
Eddie wasn’t kidding. Big boy was a nickname that Steve clearly deserved. As much as you were disappointed that you wouldn’t get to feel him inside you tonight, a part of you now was feeling grateful that Steve had decided you’d had enough, your cunt already ached after Eddie, you were sure that Steve would split you in half.
Steve notices your wide eyes taking him in and laughs not unkindly, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Come here.” he says, holding his arm out to make space for you. You eagerly wriggle into his side, one hand splaying across his broad chest and stroking the silky hairs, your cheek resting on his shoulder while he kisses the top of your head.
You both look down as Eddie shuffles closer to Steve, laying on his stomach propped up on his elbows. One ringed hand wraps around Steve’s cock, pumping slowly as his lips leave a trail of kisses across Steve’s hips, thighs and stomach. Steve’s hips buck up when Eddie’s lips brush over the ruddy tip of his cock. Eddie laughs, pressing him firmly back down into the bed.
“Easy there big boy.”
“Fuck- Ed. Stop teasing.”
Eddie tuts and rolls his eyes, but gives in anyway, licking a broad stripe from the base up to the head. A deep groan vibrates from Steve’s chest, cutting off suddenly when Eddie takes his tip fully into his hot mouth, tongue swirling across the slit. You watch in awe as Eddie’s head bobs up and down, sinking lower each time until almost all of Steve’s cock disappears into his throat, his large hand working on the last few inches he can’t reach. He comes up for air, releasing with a loud pop as his hand continues to pump, his pretty pink lips glistening with pre and spit. His eyes leave Steve’s face for a moment, meeting yours as he gives you a wink and a devilish grin, before he turns his attention back to the task at hand.
You tilt you left head up to look at Steve, taking in his blissed out expression. His cheeks are flushed crimson, plump lips bitten and red, eyes rolling back as you hear a muffled gag from Eddie, pushing himself to his limits to bring Steve the pleasure he deserves. He looks beautiful like this, losing his composure, so lost in euphoria. You want to make him feel this good, want to watch him fall apart under your touch too.
Pulling away from his side you slip down the bed, mirroring Eddie’s position on the other side of Steve’s legs. Eddie releases Steve’s cock from his mouth, smiling over at you.
“Hey pretty girl. You want a turn?”
“Please.”
Eddie takes your hand, guiding you to wrap your fingers around the velvety skin of Steve’s shaft. He’s warm and firm under your touch, your fingertips just meeting around his impressive girth. You squeeze softly, giving a few experimental tugs, looking up at Steve for his reaction. His eyes are screwed shut, teeth clamping down hard on his bottom lip.
“Am I doing something wrong?” You whisper to Eddie, who just laughs.
“Don’t think so baby, I think Stevie’s just having a hard time keeping it together.” Eddie’s lips brush against your ear, his voice so low there’s no way Steve will hear it.
“Why don’t you put that pretty mouth to good use, really make him lose his shit.”
You lick your lips, wetting them just enough before wrapping them around the leaking head, your tongue tracing lazy circles against the hot skin. Steve moans loudly, fist flying up to his face as his bites his whitened knuckles.
You mimic Eddie’s movements from earlier, moving your head up and down the shaft, tears forming along your lashes when you take him a little further than intended, nudging against the back of your throat.
“Good girl, doing so good.” Eddie murmurs, swiping away the tears that spill. You press kisses up the side of Steve’s length and Eddie joins you, licking and sucking on the skin the other side.
“Fucking hell. You two really are gonna be the death of me.” Steve groans, repeating his earlier words.
You giggle, looking up at him as you and Eddie both suckle on the tip, sloppily making out with Steve’s cock pressed between your lips, tongues meeting and sliding. Eddie moves down, giving you space to take Steve fully in your mouth again, while he turns his attention to Steve’s balls, kissing and sucking the velvety skin.
You feel Steve’s cock twitch in your throat as his stomach muscles tense and flex, a tell tale sign he’s nearing his climax.
“S-shit. Shit. I’m gonna cum, Y/N, fuck baby.” Steve gently pulls on your hair, as if warning you to move before he loses it. You ignore him, pushing further until you’re gagging as your nose rests flush against the wiry curls at his base.
“Shit, shit!” Steve cries out, hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat. You swallow every drop he gives you, humming as the salty taste invades your senses. You keep sucking until he’s whimpering from overstimulation, and you pull back, allowing his softening cock to fall from your lips. A firm hand grips your hair, and Eddie crashes his lips against yours, an intense kiss as he licks into your mouth, chasing Steve’s taste on your tongue. When you part you’re both breathless.
“You still with us Steve?” Eddie teases, looking up at the panting, quivering mess of a boy sprawled out on the sheets.
“Just about.” Steve sighs, wiping sweat from his brow.
You laugh, collapsing against his chest, exhaustion washing over your body. His strong arms close around you, the warmth of his body making you feel like you’re cast in the soft glow of sunshine. Eddie comes to lay behind you, his hands placed over Steve’s on your waist. He nuzzled in, pressing sweet kisses to the nape of your neck as you hum contentedly.
“Will you stay?” He whispers, words muffled by his face buried in your hair.
“Yes.” you whisper back. “I don’t want to go home, I want to stay here, with both of you.” Both men grip you tighter, and you sigh deeply, letting your body relax into the safety of their hold on you. In the morning there’d be a lot to talk about, but for now you didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to think about anything, except the feeling of their skin on yours and the soft sounds of their breathing.
You return to the clinic for a filling, but mostly because you can’t stop thinking about Dr. Harrington
The pain in your back molar was in fact—getting worse. You called the clinic and they booked you in as soon as possible, but your heart was racing for an entirely different reason besides the nerves, it was because you were going to see Dr. Harrington again.
You were invited back by the assistant who sat you once again in the same room you had been in last time, and you took your place waiting while trying not to bounce out of your seat.
Only a few seconds passed by before a familiar knock came, causing goosebumps to rise along your arms.
“There’s my favorite girl!” The voice you hadn’t stopped thinking about exclaimed, and you couldn’t stop a matching grin from taking over your expression.
“Hi Steve,” you muttered almost shyly, fulfilling his wish of calling him by his first name.
“Long time no see.” He joked, sitting down in front of you, though you noticed he had forgone the big white coat, causing his biceps to almost jump out of the scrubs—and you quickly pulled your lingering gaze away.
“You were right.” You sighed. “The cavity really hurts.”
Steve tilted his head, the corners of his mouth pulling into something unbearably soft at your confession.
“Aw, sweetheart…” he rested his gloved hand gently against your jaw, careful not to touch where it hurt. “You’ve been trying to tough it out the whole time, huh?” He asked and you nodded instinctively, his brown eyes full of sympathy pulling you in deeper as he rubbed his thumb lightly against your cheek.
He leaned a little closer, voice dropping warm and reassuring. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of it, okay? You remember the drill—if anything hurts you let me know.”
You let out a shaky exhale at his words, Steve always knew how to calm you down by barely even trying, he must be loved by all his patients. But the thought of him talking to anyone else as sweetly as he does to you made something unpleasant twist in your stomach.
You laid down and Steve’s hand left for a moment as he grabbed a syringe, the second your gaze landed on it your shoulders bunched up tensely.
“Hey,” he murmured immediately, catching your panic. “Don’t look at that, look at me instead, sweetheart.”
You flickered your eyes above back to him, and the soft smile he gave you caused you to forget everything else.
“You’re doing so good already.” He praised quietly.
The words alone made warmth creep up your neck. Steve adjusted the chair back a little farther before carefully tilting your chin back towards him.
“Small pinch, okay? Then the hard part’s over.” His voice stayed soothing and constant the entire time, like he was trying to talk you through it rather than just do his job.
“Deep breath for me.” He instructed, and you obeyed automatically, fingers tightening around the armrests as the needle numbed the area. It sung for a second, enough to make your brows pull together painfully, but Steve was already there to ground you back to him.
“I know, babygirl, I know.” He continued his ministrations of rubbing your cheek consolingly. “You’re being so brave for me.”
By the time the numbness spread across your mouth, your thoughts began to turn fuzzy around the edges and Steve was looking down at you like you were something precious. “How’s that feeling?” He asked, a small smile hidden behind his mask. “Getting all tingly?”
You nodded slowly, though you weren’t sure if your head felt gooey from the medicine, or from his words.
“Mhm, good.” Steve brushed a strand of hair away from your face, moving to reach for more tools. “Just keep relaxing for me, doll, you know I’ve got you.”
The actual filling was the most clinical part of it all, because every few minutes Steve checked up on you so gently it made you forget you were currently lying in a medical chair instead of his bed.
“Thats it, sweetheart.” He’d sigh, making you go hot all over.
His thumb pressed briefly against your lip to angle your mouth slightly wider, and his expression softened almost helplessly. The words slipped out under his breath before he could stop them,
“Such a pretty mouth.”
Your heart skipped so hard you nearly forgot to breathe, wondering for a moment if you had heard him correctly. Steve only seemed to realize what he had said a few delayed seconds later, clearing his throat lightly, but the faint pink tint climbing up his neck could not be mistaken.
You tried to reply, some flustered-half response, but it only came out completely scrambled by the numbness and tools in your mouth.
Steve paused without hesitation, leaning closer. “What was that, baby.”
You attempted again, but it was equally incomprehensible.
His mouth curved into a sweet smile. “Mhm, I know, doll.” But it was clearly mocking, having no idea what you’d said, and only answering as if he understood anyway—voice low enough to make you melt into the chair.
The rest of the appointment blurred together, he paid attention to you like you were the fraglist little thing he’s ever seen. Every time you tensed, Steve’s hand would settle against your shoulder, a quiet reminder that he was here no matter what, keeping you from spiraling.
It finished quicker than you’d liked, he pulled his gloves off when he finally finished with a small sigh, looking almost proud of you.
“All done.”
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, earning a warm chuckle from him. “Told you you’re my best patient, you take it better than anyone else.”
Before you could react, Steve leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, sweet, caring, almost like he’d done it without thinking. And you found yourself aching for more, needing to know what his lips felt like on the rest of your face, if he’d like your mouth just as much while pressed against his.
“My brave girl.” He mumbled. “Knew you could do it.”
Suddenly, you felt like there wasn’t enough air circulation in the room. Steve didn’t pull away immediately, instead his hand lingered on the side of your face, his eyes looked more vulnerable than before, and all you could do was remain still.
Then, he swiped his finger over your lower lip, practically ghosting over it. “Maybe next time,” he started.
“—you don’t have to wait until it hurts this bad before coming to see me.”
The way he said it made your stomach flip all over again. You swallowed hard, still a little dazed from how he’d been talking to you the whole appointment.
“I think,” you matched his tone. “I might start coming in way more often than I need to.” You looked up at him through your lashes.
Steve let out a sharp laugh under his breath, brows flitting upwards. “Oh yeah?”
You nodded, trying to ignore how nervous he made you feel. “Yeah.” You confirmed.
For a second neither of you moved, feeling entranced by the other’s presence. His touch still remained on you, though you didn’t want it to leave.
“Careful, sweetheart.” He muttered, impossibly fond. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m gonna have to start extending our sessions together.”
Coach Steve/ kids mum/ age gap/ reader older/ you fill in the rest!
No rush!!! But like please?
Thanks for the request! 🫶🏻
Steve (30) reader (40) smut 18+
Steve was the type of boy man all of the moms liked, he was charming, handsome and great with the kids.
But he was also ten years younger than you, it didn’t stop you from basically drooling as you watched him on the field.
Your heartbeat quickening every time you noticed the way his shirt would ride up exposing his lower stomach, the hair trailing down to the place you wanted to see most.
You weren’t like the other moms, they didn’t hide how they felt about him. Making small talk every chance they got, finding any reason to stay behind after practice finished just to talk to him.
They all had an advantage on you, you were the oldest mom there by a long shot, you’d never even managed anything more than a quick hello when you dropped your son off to him.
Which is why you were surprised when you saw him walking towards you at the end of the session.
“He’s like, really good” Steve grinned gesturing towards your son “really got a talent”
“Thank you” you smile sweetly but the way he hold eye contact is making you feel nervous.
“No problem” he holds his hand out towards you “I don’t think we’ve really had time to talk”
You shake his hand gently, the warmth of his skin against yours felt nice. If only you could feel those hands somewhere else.
“No, I don’t think we have” you laugh letting go of his hand, he stands in front of you smiling, like he’s thinking of what to say next.
“Wanna.. grab a drink sometime? I mean, you’re single right? I don’t think I’ve ever saw dad here” Steve rambled, hand rubbing across his face as he exhaled like her was nervous to talk to YOU.
The coach Steve that everyone chased, wanted to take YOU out for a drink.
“Sure!” You grin at him, the eyes of the other moms burning into your back “here” you quickly pull out your business card from your bag “it’s got my personal number on” you laugh making sure he knew you weren’t just trying to fob him off with a work number you could ignore his calls from.
“Thanks, I’ll call” he smiled as he stepped away, walking back towards the field.
You exhaled trying to gather yourself, totally shocked over what the hell just happened.
~
It didn’t take long for Steve to call, two days to be precise. You’d agreed to meet at a bar half way between the both of you, you’d managed to get your mom to agree to keep your son over night just incase the date dragged on.
The age gap was something that played on your mind, he didn’t seem to care or maybe he just didn’t realise how old you were in comparison to him. You made a mental note to let him know, sooner rather than later incase it was something that he wasn’t into.
You walked into the bar spotting him straight away, he looked good. His hair it’s usual floppy state but the casual clothes her wore made him look different, more manly almost.
“Hey” you smiled as you sat down at the bar next to him, his eyes looking you up and down before settling on yours.
“Hey, wow- you look” he let out a breathy laugh “what do you, er, want?”
You looked at him, was he backing out already? Did the makeup you put on make you look different somehow?
“Vodka” you smiled
“Just neat?”
You nod at him, smile still pressed to your lips as you watched him order.
“Steve, I just need to tell you before this goes any further”
He turned to look at you, that intense eye contact back in action as his brows furrowed together.
“Yeah?”
The bar tender placed your drink down in front of you, you quickly pick it up taking a sip for courage before breaking the news to him that you considered yourself a pervert.
“I’m older..”
“Okay?” He looked confused as he looked at you, your fingers tapping against the bar waiting for him to ask the question you were dreading answering.
“Like.. a lot older”
Steve noticed how nervous you looked, right now he didn’t care if you were 101.
Steve leaned in close, you could smell the beer on his breath.
“You look fucking unreal, I don’t care how old you are” his fingers brushed against yours on the bar, dragging his fingers down the length of yours “I just care about it your gonna let me take you home tonight”
Your body was on fire at his words, the tone of his voice sending a shiver through you. He smirked as he watched you take a long sip of your drink, pulling your chair closer to him.
“So?”
You nod, you’d rip his clothes off and take him right here on the bar if you wouldn’t get arrested.
You finished your drink and Steve finished his, his knee brushing against yours as he looked at you.
“Ready?”
“Ready”
~
The drive to Steve’s was mostly silent but his hand rested against your thigh, every so often it would inch higher until it was under your dress.
“This okay?” Steve asked as his finger finally made contact with the cotton of your panties, nudging against your clit.
“Fuck, yes” you gasped
Steve’s fingers kept moving slowly as his eyes stayed on the road, only moving away when he pulled into the drive of what you guessed was his house.
Things moved quickly once you were inside, he had you backed against the wall as he pulled your dress over your head, his mouth warm against your neck as he kissed it.
“You look, fuck, beautiful” he mumbled as he pulled his shirt off, your hands resting against the thick patch of hair on his chest, the happy trail you fantasised about in full view better than you ever imagined.
His trousers came off next, then his boxers unveiling his hard cock, big, thick and weeping at the tip.
You dropped to your knees in front of him, not thinking anymore, just doing.
You dragged your tongue up the full length of him, paying extra attention to the sensitive spot beneath the head.
Steve shuddered, quiet groan falling from him as he looked down at you.
You swirled your tongue around the head, the salty taste of pre cum on your tongue before you sucked the tip.
“Just like that” he moaned out, hands coming to rest against your head.
You took him deeper in your mouth, your lips stretching around him as your hands gently massaged his balls.
“Shit, gonna make me cum” he moaned out, hands pushing your head further down onto him.
You kept going a little longer until he was pulling you off him, you looked up at him smiling placing a kiss to the tip before standing up.
Steve’s lips crashed into yours, tasting himself on your tongue as he kissed you.
His hands pulling you with him towards his room.
Once on the bed he stripped you of your underwear, hands squeezing your breast that you were always so self conscious of.
“these.. are amazing” he ducked his head down, swirling his tongue across your nipple, his other hand rubbing his fingers against the other nipple.
You moaned softly as your back arched off the bed, his cock lay heavy against you.
Steve pulled away from you, settling between your thighs holding onto his cock as he dragged it between your folds.
You let out a moan as you looked down at the way his cock was teasing you, thick tip bumping against your clit.
“Please, stop teasing” you moaned as your eyes flickered shut, getting close from just the external pleasure.
Steve laughed quickly leaning over you to pull a condom out from his desk next to the bed, sliding it down his hard length.
“You’re so wet” he groaned as he dragged his fingers across you, making you whimper.
He lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing inside, the stretch felt good.
Steve looked down at you, mouth open slightly as he moved his gaze to where you were both connected.
“Oh fuck” he groaned before he started moving, agonisingly slowly at first “need to warm you up” he bit down on his bottom lip.
You were already warmed up, you’d been warmed up since you walked into the bar.
“Please” you moaned out, unable to take much more of his teasing “move”
Steve laughed as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, sliding a pillow beneath your hips.
“Okay, baby” the name almost made you cum on the spot, your hands holding onto his biceps as he kissed your neck before pulling out almost all the way.
Pushing back inside, rhythm steady now as his skin slapped against yours.
Your hand moving down your body towards your clit as Steve slammed in and out of you, your fingers gently circling over your clit.
“Let Me” he knocked your hand out of the way, his much bigger fingers taking over as you moaned, pussy fluttering around him “you’re close, I can feel it”
He continued thrusting into you, fingers moving in perfect circles on your clit as you pressed your lips against his again.
“Cum for Me” he groaned into your mouth as he added pressure against your clit, thrusts somehow hitting even deeper inside.
Your body tensed up beneath him as he hit that perfect spot, orgasm crashing over you, legs trembling.
“Fuck Steve!” You cried out, a smirk on his lips as he continued moving inside you.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum too” he groaned as he gave one final hard thrust into you, even through the condom you could feel the warmth of his release.
Steve gave a few more soft thrusts before pulling out of you, breath heavy as he flopped down on the bed next to you.
After a moment of you both trying to steady your breathing Steve turned to you.
Summary: The phone isn't enough to interrupt you and Steve in the middle of sex. Little does Eddie know what both of you keep doing on the other line.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader
Warnings: SMUT (+18 DNI), p in v (unprotected), slight fingering
❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
The rhythm of your hips doesn't falter as you bounce on Steve's thick cock, your pussy grips his shaft with every slam as you lift and lower your hips. His length buries deep into your cunt, stretching your slick walls, the wet sounds of your bodies fills the room.
Steve's hands press into your ass cheeks, spreading them as you grind down, his balls pressed tight against your perineum. Both your juices of arousal coat his length, making each thrust feel smoother and faster.
Suddenly, the nightstand phone rings with a shrill that breaks the atmosphere. Steve's eyes jolt wide open and he glances at it, but you don't slow, rolling your hips to swirl the head of his cock against your cervix. The sound cuts off, then starts again immediately – insistent, relentless. It rings a third time before silencing, only to ring again once more.
Steve groans with frustration, still high in his pleasure.
"Ignore it," you murmur, lowering your hips hard enough to make him hiss.
But it keeps going, the fourth ring pierces through the air and Steve's eyes meet yours, pleading.
"It's Eddie," he pants, thrusting into you and grunting. "He won't stop until I answer."
He knows it's Eddie because the metalhead is the only living person who won't take hanging up to his face as an answer.
You smirk, lifting high so just his tip ghosts into your entrance, and then dropping fully, forcing a choked moan from him.
The phone rings a fifth time, and your eyes roll with the disturbance.
"Fuck, baby. Slow down," he whines.
You pant, digging your nails into the skin of his chest. "Just answer the fucking thing."
He stretches his arm for it with a curse, snatching it up as you resume your punishing pace. It's deliberate strokes that make his thighs tremble. He brings the phone to his ear.
"Hey, man," he manages with a strained voice like he'd ran a marathon.
You lean forward, bracing on his chest, and pick up speed, your breasts swaying as you fuck yourself on his dick. The headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. Steve clears his throat, disguising a whimper as a cough.
"What's... uh, up?"
Eddie's voice anxiously crackles through, sounding a little rushed. "Steve, dude, I need advice. This date tomorrow... Chrissy's friend, you know? The one with the killer legs. What if I fuck it up? She's way out of my league, man. Rehearsal's got me wiped, and now I'm overthinking every riff I play."
Steve's free hand clamps your hip, trying to still you, but you swat it away and clench your pussy around his hard length, milking him deliberately.
"You'll be fine," Steve says, his abs contract as you slam down extra hard, grinding your clit against his pubic bone.
A soft whine escapes from him, and he turns it into a high, brittle laugh.
Well, he tries. But to no avail.
"Just... play it cool. Chicks dig confidence." His cock throbs inside you.
His thick veins pulse against your fluttering walls. Sweat beads on his forehead, dribbling down his temple.
Eddie continues, oblivious to the situation on Steve's end.
"But what if she hates metal? Or thinks I'm a freak for the whole Hellfire thing? I mean, last date ghosted me after I mentioned demodogs. Should I tone it down? Wear something less... me?"
The phone nearly slips from Steve's grip as his sweaty, shaking hand tries to hold it.
You hold his knees and bend them, changing the position, now his cock drags directly over your g-spot with every plunge. Your arousal soaks the sheets. Steve bites his lip so hard enough to draw blood, his hips bucking up involuntarily to meet your pussy.
"N-no, own it," he forces through clenched teeth, the words hitching on a gasp.
You cover his mouth with your hand, muffling the noise that follows as you ride him viciously, your ass cheeks rippling from the impacts. His eyes roll back, muffled moans come out against your palm. He removes your hand off gently, panting.
"Eddie, she's into you. Trust me. Just... don't overthink the kiss or whatever."
"Kiss? Shit, what if I go for it too soon? Or my breath is bad after practicing? I got mints, but..." Eddie's rambling intensifies, words tumbling fast and you roll your eyes again, in annoyance.
But you don't stop riding him.
Steve's replies start to break.
"Hmm, yeah, timing is key."
You twist your hips as you bounce, stirring his cock deep inside, and he coughs violently to cover the sudden groan, pounding his chest with his fist. His balls draw up tight, slapping wetly against you. Pre-cum floods your cunt, mixing with your slick walls.
You rake your nails down his hair, your nipples nearly brushing his mouth. Steve's back arches, driving his dick even deeper.
"Dude, you're golden," he rasps with a shredded voice. A whimper escapes between his ragged breath. "Gonna... crush it."
Eddie pauses. "You sure you're okay? Sounds like you're dying, man. Working out or something?"
'Yeah– dumbbells. Brutal set." Steve is lying through his teeth.
His face contorts in ecstasy as you speed your pace, your pussy spasming erratically around his throbbing shaft. His free hand sneaks between you, bringing his thumb to find your clit and rubbing furious circles.
A retaliation that sends sparks up your spine. You retaliate back by squeezing your inner walls in circles, from base to tip.
Eddie sighs. "Alright, thanks man. Owe you one. Talk tomorrow?"
Steve nods frantically, though Eddie can see it. It's desperate. "Y-yep. Later."
He shoves the phone into the cradle aggressively, both hands squeezing your waist. "Fuuuuck, baby"
Then, it bursts. You slam down relentlessly, chasing your peak. Steve thrusts up savagely, his cock battering you deeply. Your orgasm hits like lightning. Pussy convulsing, walls clamping his length in pulses, gushing hot fluid down his balls.
He roars, hips snapping as ropes of thick cum blast into you, filling your pussy with creamy rivulets leaking out with each aftershock.
You collapse onto him, chests heaving in sync, his softening cock still twitching inside your cunt. Steve's arms wrap around you, and he brushes his lips against your ear.
"That was torture... best fucking torture. Eddie's clueless ass almost ruined it." He nips your shoulder.
He manages to push off of him, only to throw you against the mattress, turning you over. "Your turn to beg next?"
warnings: stepcest (both are adults, steve is older), smut (mdni!)
a/n: IM OBSESSED WITH STEPBRO STEVE
pt 2 <3
wc: 1.7k
the dining room is warm and brightly lit, youre enjoying a nice dinner with your family. your mom had prepared a nice home cooked meal, and youre sitting directly across from steve at the dinner table. he has a relaxed posture as he calmly eats his food. every now and then, his eyes flicker to meet yours. conversation amongst your parents flow naturally, you arent really paying much attention, though. youre too fixated on steves big hands and the way his throat bobs when he swallows.
slowly, so that no one would notice, you begin to extend your foot underneath the table, and let it slide up and down his pant leg. steve freezed mid bite when he feels your foot. your parents are too engrossed in their own conversation to notice the way his muscles tense. a slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face as he looks down at his plate.
“so steve,” his dad cuts in, “hows work going?”
“video store is pretty good,” steve nods. “it can get slow at times, but it pays well. mostly just putting up with customers who take forever to pick between movies and stocking tapes.”
meanwhile, your foot keeps inching higher and higher. he stiffens slightly, but manages to maintain eye contact with your step dad. steve reaches for his glass of water, you take this opportunity to directly press your foot against his semi-hard cock. steve sputters as he slightly chokes on his water. everyone turns to look at him.
“sorry,” he coughs, “went down the wrong pipe.”
you bite your lip, cocking your head to the side, feigning innocence, “are you alright?”
“yeahyeah,” he nods, “‘m alright.”
under the table, he doesnt push you away, his hips give an involuntarily forward into your touch, which only makes you press harder against his crotch.
by the end of dinner, steve is painfully hard. he is desperately trying to think of anything to kill his boner before he has to stand up and help clean. chairs squeak against the floor as everyone stands, doing their part to help clean up.
“come on steve, you need to help, too,” you grin, watching his cheeks flush.
later that night, the house is quiet. your parents are sound asleep down the hall. youre lying on your stomach on the bed, reading a book in a fitted tank top and cotton sleep shorts that ride up maybe a little too much when you lay down. unbeknownst to you, steve had managed to creep into your room. he looms over you on your bed, taking in the sight of you in your pj set that leaves little to the imagination. it all happens so fast and it scares the shit out of you. one second youre reading, the next you feel the mattress dip behind you, a hand covering your mouth as another slides to your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
“shh, shut up, ‘s just me,” steve murmurs, “youre such a fuckin tease.”
“bet you got a real kick out of it, too, huh?” he lets go of you, giving you time to turn around and face him. as you do so, you realize hes also in sleepwear, too. no shirt, just his boxers where you can already see the outline of his growing bulge. he pushes you back down on the bed, instantly caging you in.
“so tell me, sis,” he starts rubbing you over your thin sleep shorts, “if i were to check right now, would you be wet?”
your chest heaves as steve starts kissing your neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin.
“tell me,” he demands in between kisses, “am i gonna find out youve been wet this whole time?”
you only whine and buck into his touch, he scoffs at you. he dips his hand beneath your waist band. steve freezes the second his fingers brush against the bare skin where your panties should be.
“fuck, no panties?” he breathes out, “who knew my stepsister would be such a slut?” his calloused finger tips run in between your legs, dragging through your slick folds. he groans at the feeling, “jesus, youre soaked.”
he slowly pulls his fingers from beneath your waist band, holding them up as you arousal glistens on his fingers. “knew it.”
he absentmindedly sucks on his fingers, moaning at the taste.
“bet youre not wearing a bra, either.”
before you can even answer him, hes pushing your tank top up, exposing your breasts completely.
“called it,” he grins.
steve ducks his head, dragging his tongue over your nipple, suckling slightly. you arch your back and whine loudly, a little too loud. both of you pause, his head turns to the door, ears straining for any sound down the hallway.
dead silence.
“baby, c’mon, shut up,” he whispers sternly.
youre breathless, you sheepishly nod, “sorry, stevie.”
he squeezes your breast one last time before tugging at your shorts.
“up, up, up,” steve gently instructs, to which you oblige, lifting your hips up so he can take off your shorts.
he shuffles down the bed, spreading your legs to get a really good look at your dripping core. his mouth is salivating and his cock throbs violently in his boxers. he spreads your pussy lips before spitting directly on your clit, making you writhe. steve licks a low stripe, from bottom to top, then focusing on your sensitive bud. you clamp your own hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet as his mouth works on your pussy. steve wastes no time, his middle and ring finger press against your entrance, making you gasp. he slowly inserts his fingers, scissoring them inside you to stretch you open, while his other hand pins you down to keep you from squirming.
“so tight for me.”
the feeling of his mouth on your clit, while his thick fingers work inside you makes pleasure spike through every nerve of your body. it doesnt take long for him to find that one spongy spot inside that has you seeing stars.
“right there?” he groans against your clit. you nod helplessly
his fingers curl effortlessly, hitting your g spot each time, your orgasm building quickly. he can tell youre about to cum, youre practically humping his face, chasing your own pleasure, as your quiet pants and whines fill the room.
“yeah, thats it sis. cum for me.”
your vision nearly turns white as your orgasm thrashes through you in waves, he helps you work through it, fingers still moving gently while his tongue soothes the oversensitivity. once you go limp, he gently pulls his fingers out of your heat and presses a kiss to your inner thigh. subconsciously, you start to close your legs.
“nuh-uh-uh,” steve tuts, “‘m not done with you,” he spreads your legs open again,
he finally yanks off his own boxers, his hard cock springing out. he gives himself a couple of strokes before lining up at your entrance.
he shushes you gently, “gotta be quiet, baby.”
he intertwines your fingers with his, placing your hand beside you on the bed. you whimper as you feel his tip prod at your hole.
“you got it baby, relax. youve taken it before,” his voice is smooth and reassuring
you both let out a small gasp when he finally pushes in. the stretch is immediate, he slowly pushes in inch by inch, a satisfied moan leaving the both of you as he bottoms out. your walls flutter around him, and he has to bite back a whimper.
“shit– you feel so good, can i move?”
“just fuck me already,” you whine impatiently
he slowly thrusts out, before fucking back into you, hard. the action not only causes you to moan loudly, but your headboard slams against the wall, making a loud thud.
“steve.”
“fuck,” he grits out between clenched teeth.
he lets go of your hand, and quickly grabs a pillow, wedging it in between the wall and the headboard. he grabs both of your wrists, pinning it above your head, wasting no time and pistoning into your pussy. the pillow helps muffle the sounds slightly, but it still isnt completely silent.
“remember when you were teasing me at dinner?" he growls between ragged breaths, "all that foot shit under the table? now look at you."
to further emphasize his point, he suddenly lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle to hit even deeper, making sure you feel all of him. your eyes roll back.
“tell me,” he suddenly rolls his hips painfully slow, “was it worth it?”
you huff and whine, bucking your hips for more friction, “stevie, please.”
“awh,” he coos sarcastically, jutting his bottom lip out at you. “need your stepbrothers dick that bad?”
youre so desperate, you nod eagerly “please steve– ‘m sorry. wasnt worth it.”
“yeah? good girl,” he immedietaly starts fucking into you, hard and fast. your breasts jiggle violently with each thrust.
“youre so fucked up for letting me do this to you,” he lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head at you.
“s-says you,” you mewl back.
your moans are starting to get a little too loud, he catches your mouth in a messy kiss, swallowing all your sounds. skin slapping, your muffled noises, and the bed springs creaking fills the room. its a miracle your parents havent woke up. his free hand makes his way down to your clit, rubbing feverishly.
he pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva briefly connecting before breaking. the coil in your stomach is getting tighter and tighter, he can feel you fluttering around his cock.
“stevie– ‘m so close,” you whimper
“yeah? tell me im the best big brother,” he demands in a rough whisper
“im–fuck,” you cry out, “youre the best big brother ever.”
“yeah i am,” he grins as you fuel his ego, “cum for me.”
your walls squeeze and clench around him tightly as you cum, his thrusts turn erratic, desperately chasing his own release.
“ohhhfuck,” his hips still and he groans loudly, his cock pulsing as he spills inside of you.
the grip he had on your wrists that were pinned against your head loosen completely as waves of pleasure subside. he gently pulls out of you, flopping beside you, panting wildly.
“that was.. fuck,” steve chuckles lightly, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.
Summary: Co-presenting an award with your boyfriend Joe should be easy, but nerves and sex send your night spiraling into disaster.
Word count: 9.3k
Warnings: +18 MDNI. SMUT (unprotected p in v, riding, kinda breeding kink, sorta lovemaking), more plot than porn tbh, established relationship, basically FLUFF because joe is deeply in love with you, reader is famous af, jacob elordi being a menace to society.
Everyone was obsessed with Joe and you separately, but when you two started dating? No other couple could compare. You had been universally labeled as ‘Hollywood’s IT Couple.’
Even though the absurdly big amount of support had been a surprise, you tried to keep your privacy as much as possible. Supermarket runs were over, TikToks had to be double-checked before posting, and gossip pages were constantly trying to stir up drama. But only Joe and you knew how genuinely incredible your relationship was, and you refused to let fans or media break you apart.
So you didn’t hesitate in accepting the Golden Globes offer to present an award together. You were already nominated for Best Actress in a Television Series, and Joe would obviously be your plus one. People would probably accuse you two of milking your relationship by going to all the red carpets and events together, but after almost a year of dating, you didn’t really care about anyone’s opinion anymore.
So what if you wanted to post a picture of shirtless Joe making you breakfast right before promoting his new album? You knew people were going to run to your Instagram stories, so you might as well get some new fans for The Crux.
'They are so PR!' was the funniest comment you received. If only they knew how devoted you were to each other.
Your manager was ecstatic about the increasing popularity of the Stranger Things season 5 finale and 'End of Beginning.' She wanted you to date someone as famous as you, and even though Joe had a hundred million fewer followers than you, he was unproblematic, well-liked by the media, and growing in popularity.
You had attended the Golden Globes for the last five years, even winning two awards for Best Actress for your main role in your famous HBO tv show, Crashing Waves. Everyone loves to win, but you were feeling a bit shy of possibly winning a third time for the same show. You didn’t want your peers to resent you or think that the show’s producers had a contract with the academy.
Joe thought you were delusional. “Nobody hates you for it, babe. That’s, like, everybody’s favorite show. We all want you to win because you fucking deserve it.”
Maybe he was right, but deep down you hoped somebody else would take the award home.
After a year of constant communication, your managers had become best friends—although Joe and you were sure they were dating—and had chosen the perfect matching outfits for the event.
Joe looked incredibly handsome with a white suit, black pants, and his new blond hair, while you represented the ‘epitome of sexiness’ (Joe’s words) with your sheer black dress.
“How is this matching?” you asked your managers. “We’re wearing opposite colors.”
“Exactly!” Jane exclaimed. “Everyone loves the ‘opposites-attract’ narrative you two have going on.”
Laura, your manager, nodded. “While he looks like an angel, you look like a hot, tempting devil.” She slapped your ass playfully, making Joe glare at her. “No one would be able to look away from you, dear.”
They weren’t wrong; the dark aesthetic of your makeup and dress made you seem as if you would slap anyone who took the award from you.
“You look beautiful,” Joe mumbled on the limousine’s backseat, kissing your hand. “Like you’re gonna spank me and tell me to shut up.”
You smirked. “I don’t have to look like a Disney villain to do that.”
Joe snorted. “You don’t look like a villain at all. More like… a hot vampire.” He scooted closer and kissed your neck. “I need you, baby.”
It was barely seven o’clock, and with the entire event and after party, you’d probably be back at the hotel around three a.m.
You gently pushed him off. “Behave. I can’t have hickeys now.”
“Why not?” he whined and playfully bit your shoulder, making sure to not leave a mark. “That’ll keep the men away.”
“Your presence will be enough for that, honey.”
Joe jokingly gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “What do you mean? Are you calling me possessive?”
Your boyfriend was the least toxic man in the world. Many would even describe him as the sweetest person in any room. But whenever a man would get too close, smile too widely, or eye you a bit too much…
You sighed. “That would be an understatement.”
The red carpet was pretty chaotic, as usual, with camera flashes blinding you, interviewers begging for your attention, and fans screaming for selfies. You used to hate that part, but doing it with Joe reduced all the stress. He kept a supportive hand on your lower back all the time and constantly whispered compliments in your ear. You two had reached enough peace and shamelessness that when fans chanted ‘kiss, kiss, kiss,’ Joe pleased them with a soft, lingering peck on your lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, but everyone read his lips and screamed like crazy.
You just blushed and chuckled as your managers took you inside.
“Oh, my children,” Jane whined with a happy smile while watching the pics she had taken of you on her phone. “If you ever break up, I’ll lock you in a cabin on a remote island until you solve things.”
Joe and you froze, looking at his manager with wide eyes, but an event assistant arrived to escort you to your seats.
Most people were already in their seats, chatting with their colleagues, so there were only two chairs available on your table. Well, of course you were awkwardly sort of late…
Everyone looked up when you arrived.
Joe and you smiled politely at your show’s director, producers, and—
“Oh my god, Jacob Elordi,” you shrieked at your celebrity crush sitting right there, a few meters from you, next to the Frankenstein cast.
They all laughed, bringing you back to reality. You blushed deeply and looked embarrassed at Jacob. “I’m just— Wow. Hey, hi.”
The handsome man’s cheeks were a light shade of pink too. He shook your hand. “Nice to finally meet such a superstar.”
HE KNEW YOU?!
Joe’s squeeze of your hip unfroze you. He knew of your fangirl crush on Jacob Elordi, but having him in person, in front of you, looking a bit flushed too… It wasn’t cute or funny anymore.
You cleared your throat and sat down nervously, looking everywhere but at Jacob. For years, you had seen him from afar in every event, too shy to ask him for a picture, and now he was next to you.
“What the hell!” you mouthed to your boyfriend, discreetly pointing at Jacob. “He’s real?”
Before Joe could reply, Jacob spoke, sending a shudder down your spine. “I’m a big fan of Crashing Waves.”
Oh, you were in a dream. Joe nudged your knee, quietly reminding you to reply.
You looked at Jacob and tried to smile. “Yeah? Y-you’ve seen it?”
Jacob scoffed. “Of course. It’s my favorite. And you? Wow. Amazing performance every damn minute.”
You grasped Joe’s hand beneath the table. It wasn’t the cold air conditioner that was making you tremble.
“Hey, Y/N,” your director called across the table. “You look like a tomato.”
All eyes turned to you before they snickered softly. You covered your face, absolutely embarrassed.
Joe forced a chuckle and soothed your back. “She gets like that with compliments.”
“And how are you gonna receive that award, then?” teased Guillermo del Toro.
Guillermo del Fucking Toro was talking to you. You quickly looked up and hurriedly said, “Mr. del Toro, oh God, pleasure to meet you. Big, big fan of Pinocchio.”
He chuckled and shook your hand. “Most people say ‘Shape of Water,’ but it’s nice hearing something different.”
“We loved Frankenstein,” Joe added, also staring at the man with awe. “I—”
Jacob cut him off. “We were talking about you, actually.”
Your jaw dropped. “M-me?”
He nodded and smiled charmingly. “I was telling Guillermo that you should audition for his next movie.”
You almost stood up from the surprise. With a stoic face, you said, “It’d be the honor of my life, Mr. del Toro.”
The table guests laughed, but Joe knew you were serious. The director waved his hand. “You can just call me Guillermo, dear. Give me your number.”
As you exchanged numbers with the widely awarded man, Joe noticed Jacob’s eyes shamelessly raking all over you, lingering on your cleavage.
Was he fucking serious right now?
Joe put an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple, trying to discreetly remind Elordi that you were his girlfriend. “Are you still nervous about the award? Because I think I just saw Ayo Edebiri gushing about you with her friends.”
You looked around for your fellow nominee, almost breaking your neck.
But it seemed Joe was invisible to Jacob as he grabbed your hand over the table and talked before you could. “Please, just between us, tell me the end of Crashing Waves.”
Your eyes widened. Jacob Elordi was touching you. Your inner fifteen-year-old, who hated The Kissing Booth saga but watched it a million times because of your favorite actor, would be crashing out right now.
Your tv show’s main producer, Gary, shook his head. “Don’t do it, Y/N. He already tried with me.”
You giggled and… didn’t move your hand away, Joe noticed.
“My contract forbids me to. Sorry,” you said. “Not even my boyfriend knows it.”
Gary snorted. “I don’t believe that one bit.”
You blushed and looked conspiratorially at Joe. “I probably would’ve told him, but he doesn’t wanna be spoiled.”
Joe nodded and took advantage of the table’s attention. “She’s always on the verge of telling me the ending in bed, in the shower, in the car, everywhere!”
Hopefully, the discreet sexual innuendo sent a clear message.
Jacob looked at him for the first time and forced a smile. “Djo, right? ‘Endings of Beginnings’ is a great song.”
Oh, Joe wanted to jump over you and choke the tall man. Every fucking person in the world knew his song. It had been number one on spotify for over two consecutive weeks. But a discreet squeeze on his thigh brought him back to the present.
You had noticed Jacob’s jab and didn’t like it one bit. The excitement about meeting your celebrity crush was gone. Your jaw tightened and your smile turned pursed.
Next to Jacob, Mia Goth chuckled. “I told you it’s ‘End of Beginning’! I played it all the time at my trailer.” She waved excitedly at you two. “While y’all were chatting, I was looking for this.”
She passed you her phone with a wide smile. Joe and you gasped at the screenshot of her Spotify Wrapped having both of you as her top two artists.
“I definitely did not beg the Golden Globes producers to put you two at our table,” she teased with a wink. “Can we take a picture at the commercial break?”
Joe and you nodded eagerly. “Of course!”
Even after years of making music and acting, meeting fans always filled your hearts, especially if they were your Hollywood colleagues.
“She’s working on her new album,” Joe pointed at you, making Mia gasp.
You chuckled and shook your head. “Not really. I’ve written, like, fifty songs but nothing concrete.”
Mia couldn’t care less about Jacob as she scooted her chair closer and grasped your hand over the table. “Is it a love album? I mean, your depressive ones are my faves, but I’m sure you’ll do great romantic songs.”
“They are,” Joe quickly said, loud enough for a certain giant man to listen.
You chuckled and squeezed Mia’s hand. “How can I not write love songs when I have such a muse?”
It was Joe’s turn to blush as everyone—except Jacob—‘aww’ed. But he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest; he was filled with joy. For a long time, he had wished for someone to love him as hard as he did, with the silly love songs and irrational, sporadic love acts.
And he finally found you, a poet wanting to be the muse of another poet. Your love languages matched and there wasn’t a paper in your apartment without a love poem written on it.
He kissed your cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
“A picture!”
A flash blinded you two. An event photographer had approached the table and was now asking the Frankenstein cast to get together for a general picture.
Joe and you scooted your chairs back to avoid appearing on the photo, finally getting a peaceful second for yourselves.
But an assistant suddenly appeared behind you with a clipboard and a pen. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, you’re the sixth presenters. I’ll come look for you in… twenty minutes. Be ready.” Then rushed to the next table.
You paled, randomly forgetting which award you were presenting for. But Joe smirked and said, “I loved that he called me ‘Mr. Y/L/N.’ I can get used to it, to be honest.”
So focused on your work, you hadn’t even noticed the assistant’s slip. You beamed and pinched his cheek. “But I want to be Mrs. Keery so bad, honey. I love your last name.”
“Okay, then you be Mrs. Keery and I’ll be Mr. Y/L/N,” he teased, causing you to chuckle.
“That defeats the whole purpose!”
Joe gasped, startling you, as his eyes found his table’s name card. He picked it up and showed it to you. “I’m ‘Joe Keery-Y/L/N,’ and you’ll address me like that from now on.”
Your jaw dropped too. What were the Golden Globes’ assistants playing at? Yours didn’t include his last name, so it had definitely been on purpose.
“This is coming home with me.” Joe kept looking at it with awe. “Take a pic of me holding it, please.”
Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling at his cute reaction. In another universe, your ex-boyfriend would’ve been pissed by it. You took the photos with your phone, already wanting them as your new wallpaper.
But behind Joe, in the background of the pic… You gasped and almost dropped the phone. Joe turned around confused. “What?”
“Ariana Grande looks wonderful!” you screamed in a whisper.
The singer/actress was on a faraway table, calmly chatting with Selena Gomez. Joe raised his eyebrows. “She’s brunette. Wasn’t she blonde, like, yesterday?”
You sighed and patted his back. “Just because we rewatched Wicked For Good yesterday doesn’t mean it was filmed yesterday, baby.” He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t done. “You’re the newest blondie in town. No one will take your crown.”
He looked deadpan at you but couldn’t help smiling at your joke. “Be thankful you’re cute and I love you.”
You sent him a flying kiss and looked back at your phone. “She’s nominated for a Wicked song.”
Joe leaned closer to see the list too. “Uhh, the one I like? She’ll sing it?”
Oh, you were so in love with your chronically offline boyfriend. “No, babe. Popular is from the first movie.” You scrolled down and sighed. “Forget it. Golden will definitely win.”
He frowned and naively asked, “The Harry Styles song you like?”
You stared at him quietly for half a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, his 2019 hit is so nominated.”
Joe rolled his eyes at your teasing and leaned back on his chair. “I’ll never ask you anything again ever.”
“You’re not gonna speak to me anymore?” you smirked. “Give me this, then.”
When you reached for his name card, Joe quickly shielded it from you, keeping it close to his chest. “No, no. Don’t steal the highlight of my year.”
“It’s January 12th.”
“Enough days to know that I want to marry you this year,” he joked.
But your heart stopped. A man can’t just… joke about something like that! You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant. “I’m busy this year. Too many projects. Try in 2027.”
Joe’s arms encircled your hips to pull you closer. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear, “I’ll kidnap you, then. Fuck the movie industry.”
“It’ll fall apart without me,” you shrugged, pretending to be inspecting your nails.
“Oh, so true. They’ll lose their best actress,” he mumbled between kisses. And this time, you knew he wasn’t joking, which just flustered you more.
“Hey, loverbirds!” Gary, your show’s producer, threw a balled-up napkin your way. “Shut up. Shit’s starting.”
Blushing, you two pulled apart and pretended to pay attention to the host’s speech. Yet as the woman talked and joked, Joe’s hand suddenly found its way under your dress’s crease and started caressing up your thigh. You discreetly side-glanced at him.
“Don’t…” you muttered as his thumb reached the edge of your underwear.
But he didn’t move his hand away and you didn’t want him to stop, so you clapped and smiled while presenters announced winners and they gave their speeches.
By the third award, you discreetly leaned closer to Joe and muttered with a hand covering your mouth “What the hell are you—?”
His fingers grazed your clothed clit, making you flinch. You covered it with a cough while he just smiled calmly at the stage, paying all the attention in the world.
Casually, you placed an arm on his chair and ghosted your nails across his back. It seemed like a normal, loving action, but Joe knew better. His smile wavered as he tried to push your hand away without being too obvious.
“Dont play…,” he mouthed.
You smiled innocently and looked back at the stage. He wanted to play dirty? Well so could you.
But the challenging vibe left you when he pressed your clit hard. An inevitable gasp escaped your lips, catching your table’s attention.
You forced a smile and lied, “Sorry. I just love that movie.”
Hamnet’s trailer was playing on the screens… It hadn’t even hit theaters in America. But they believed you and returned their direction to the show.
Joe quickly whispered in your ear. “You’re so wet already.”
You pushed him off instinctively, then faked a smile and squeezed his shoulder, just in case a camera was on you.
Joe smirked and tried to move your panties to the side. Alright, enough. You scooted closer to the table, grabbed his wrist, and mumbled, “I’ll murder you if—”
“Excuse me.”
You both gasped at the sudden squeaky voice, jumping away from each other as if electrified.
Standing awkwardly behind you, the assistant raised her hands and whispered, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, guys. I need to take you backstage.”
Joe discreetly wiped his fingers on the chair and nodded. You forced a smile and stood up, hoping there wasn’t a wet spot in your dress.
“What is wrong with you?!” you whispered to Joe as the woman guided the way.
He put an arm around your waist and shrugged. “I… honestly don’t know. You look so hot and fucking Elordi was hitting on you—”
“He wasn’t.”
But not even you could deny it. You smirked as your cheeks turned pink. “He so was, right?”
Joe rolled his eyes but smiled at your cuteness. “Who wouldn’t? You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
The second the backstage doors closed behind you, your hands found the nape of his neck as you pulled him down to a kiss. He grabbed your hips to press you closer and opened his mouth to deepen it.
“Hey, hey. Don’t mess up the makeup,” your manager appeared to ruin the moment.
Behind her, various assistants and crew were rushing around, making sure the show was running perfectly. Laura pulled out a small mirror and your lipstick. “Re-apply. Joe, don’t forget your glasses. Follow the woman; you have to be on stage in three minutes.”
Joe stared with hunger as you applied the expensive lipstick. Pretending not to notice him, you sent a kiss to the mirror and pouted. He distracted himself by focusing on the assistant leading them.
“Remember: you can drift from the teleprompter words, but not completely, okay?” she said.
You nodded and gave her your lipstick and mirror. “Can you please give this to that woman, the one that looks constipated?”
A few feet behind you, Laura mouthed, “I can hear you!”
The assistant left you two on the entrance spot behind the curtain and next to the stage. From there, you could see the Heated Rivalry actors chatting excitedly with Michael B. Jordan.
“There are only, like, six songs nominated. We could’ve listened to them,” Joe sighed.
You shrugged. “I did.”
“What?!” he gasped. “When?”
“This morning while you were showering.”
Joe feigned sadness as he shook his head. “You should’ve waited for me. Now I can’t judge the Oscar dudes that never watch all the nominated movies.”
You rolled your eyes. “Joe, we won’t choose the winning song. It’s completely different.”
Your boyfriend put an arm around your waist to pull you close and whispered, “I was joking. Laugh or I’m breaking up with you.”
You pressed your lips in a line, refusing to give in… but he started tickling you. “Stop! Joe—”
“Shh!” The assistant was back, looking a bit angrier, and gave Joe an envelope. “We’re coming back from commercials in thirty seconds. The camera is already on you. Good luck!”
You both stayed quiet until she had walked out of listening range, then looked at each other nervously.
“I’m shaking,” Joe confessed, showing you his trembling hands.
You whined, “Joe, you’re supposed to calm me!”
He put on his glasses and sighed. “We got this…”
“I love your sluttly little glasses,” you whispered in a shaky voice.
“Thanks,” he mumbled with his eyes glued to the camera. “We should’ve taken a shot before this.”
“We’re fine…” You grabbed his free hand. “Let’s enter like this instead of the elbow-holding thingy. We look like the Hunger Games tributes when they—”
“Coming to the stage,” a thundering voice came from the speakers. “you know him from Stranger Things and she’s the two-time Golden Globe winner… it’s Joe Keery and Y/N Y/L/N.”
That was your cue, of course. Joe and you walked hand in hand to the stage and towards the microphone. Everyone applauded as the chorus from End of Beginning played on the speakers. You could already imagine millions of fans shrieking excitedly at their screens.
As you mentally reminded yourself to not trip over your feet, your eyes found the teleprompter. Joe and you had already practiced two days ago in that same spot, something along “Music is an art that—”
…That wasn’t on the teleprompter. What? Joe and you stopped right behind the microphone, his eyes on you since your line was the first. Hadn’t he realized the changes?!
Oh, shit. The words were moving fast. You smiled and started, “Uhm… Showtunes, k-pop, blues, pop, rock, americana, this year’s nominees for Best Original Song are truly all over the place.”
Even though you sounded out of breath and rushed, Joe talked smoothly, “Seriously. If you show up at a party and they play all six of our nominees in a row, you'd be psyched because they are all incredible…”
You discreetly side-eyed him. Joe hadn’t even listened to them. Well, maybe he vaguely remembered the Wicked ones… although you had heard a light snore coming from him during The Girl in the Bubble.
“But you'd also have a few questions,” Joe’s line was the cue to yours.
You quickly looked back at the teleprompter just as your line went away. “Eh… Yeah, a million,” you improvised. “Like, damn, who wrote that masterpiece?”
Joe blinked, his plastered smile wavering. Your improv wasn’t really a match with the original “What are you on?” line.
He forced a chuckle and quickly saved it. “Yeah, or what are you on?”
“How much—” you started, then realized it was his line.
“...are you on?” Joe continued, trying to make it look like it had been on purpose. Oh, the cute couple are completing each other's lines!
“And can I please have some?” you finally read correctly.
Joe smiled proudly at you and said the last line, “All great questions. Now here is one more: Who is taking home the Golden Globe tonight?”
The camera’s red light disappeared as the show started displaying the nominees section. Your smiles disappeared instantly.
You grasped your boyfriend’s arm and whispered, “They changed that or am I schizophrenic?!”
“Both.” Joe tried to sound reassuring. “I mean, yeah I think they did. And it was going so fast. It wasn’t your fault, baby.”
“I never said it was…”
A three-second countdown appeared in the teleprompter. Joe squeezed your hand warningly and both of your charming, fake smiles came back.
“And the Golden Globe goes to…” you exclaimed.
Joe tried to open the envelope, but his fingers had turned sweaty from the nervousness, and it fell to the floor. You gasped dramatically at the worst case scenario happening.
Just as you leaned down to help, Joe stood up, crashing the back of his head into your collarbone.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!”
You took a step back and collided with the microphone. “Ah!” you screamed as you quickly reached for it.
Joe winced, but managed to help you keep the mic stand straight. “Shit. I mean, oh—” He covered his mouth when one of the only curse word he was told not to say slipped out.
You leaned into the mic and yelled, “And the Oscar goes to…!”
“Golden Globe,” Joe corrected before squinting his eyes to read the envelope, “Uhm… Golden, The Hunters—”
“Kpop Demon Hunters,” you tried to correct, but the loud music and applause overshadowed your voices.
Joe gently grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side of the stage. An assistant hesitantly looked at Joe before deciding to give you the award.
“They’re never calling us for this again,” Joe whined, rubbing the nape of his neck stressfully.
Before you could reply, the winner climbed up the stairs. You smiled widely and gave her the Golden Globe.
“Congrats!” you both exclaimed.
The woman briefly thanked you before walking to the microphone. On cue, you two rushed to the backstage.
“That was a mess. I’m not entering twitter for a week,” you whined.
Joe soothed your back. “Okay, people laughed… maybe with us and not at us?”
“Hey! Stop!”
You jumped at the desperate whisper behind you. The same assistant that had led you to the stage was running towards you.
“You have to present a second award! The best score!”
“Ohh!” Joe and you gasped as realization dawned in your faces.
You almost slapped your forehead at the collective loss of memory happening between both of you. Maybe spending too much time together was making your brain cells mix into just a big, stupid one.
“Here you go.” The woman gave Joe the result envelope.
He grimaced and shoved it into your hands. “Not doing that again.”
You stared at it as if it were a boiled potato. “But why me?!”
“Hurry up!” the woman yelled in a whisper. “Get on stage now!”
The previous winner was ending her speech in tears while you two tried to discreetly stand behind her. Applause aroused as the singer stepped away with her award, your sign to present the second nomination.
“Congratulations to Golden, Kpop Demon Hunters,” you said with a smile.
“Alright, everybody, now the award for Best Original Score Motion Picture,” Joe followed. “And the nominees are…”
You both released a breath of relief as the show switched to list the different movies and musicians.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Joe whispered.
Biting your lip, you carefully tried to open the envelope. You suddenly froze and said, “Oh my God… What if I say it wrong?”
Joe frowned, taking a quick look at the screen to make sure they weren’t on air. “What? How?”
“I don’t know! Look at the La La Land/Moonlight scandal and—”
The red dot reappeared on the camera. You two smiled again and Joe said, “And the Golden Globe goes to…”
You finally opened the envelope and forgot all professionalism as you gasped excitedly, “Ludwig Goransson from Sinners! Yeah!”
Joe applauded along with the crowd. He did remember that movie… “We went to that premiere, right?”
“Yeah, the one where my sister threw up after three margaritas.”
You received the award from an assistant and waited eagerly to give it to the artist.
The winner shook Joe’s hand before accepting the award and giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“Congrats! I love the Oppenheimer score,” you hurriedly told him.
“Oh, thanks!” He chuckled and walked to the mic.
Joe found your hand and intertwined your fingers. He squeezed it before whispering in your ear. “I think we did pretty good.”
But your manager didn’t think the same.
As the show finally went to a commercial break, Laura met you backstage with an exasperated face.
“They cut the Best Score one from the main broadcast,” she said.
You gasped. “What?! But we ate on that one!”
“Well, they only played the horrible one,” Laura grunted. “How could you forget to read the fucking teleprompter, Y/N? It’s there for a reason!”
While your manager and you bickered about the recent mess, all sound from the room vanished for Joe as he stared at you lovingly. He couldn’t get over how perfect that dress fitted you. It hugged you in all the right ways… especially your ass.
His pants were getting tighter. He mentally thanked his manager for choosing black pants that could make his hard-on barely noticeable.
Joe’s arms engulfed your waist as he pressed behind you. To anyone, it looked as if he was giving you a casual romantic hug, but you understood the message. Or, well, felt it.
You stopped fighting with Laura at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend’s big hard cock. Your cheeks turned red and you quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
Laura sighed deeply as she typed on her phone. “Whatever. People think you’re funny and cute. That’s all I need. See you later.”
“Bye!” Joe exclaimed in a teasing tone only for you.
You patted his arms and muttered, “Didn’t realize the Sinners score could be so arousing for you?”
He pressed closer and whispered. “No one will notice if we disappear.”
“Uhm, literally everyone will,” you fought back as you tried to push him off. “Babe, it’s too risky. There’s always eyes on us.”
On you, Joe wanted to say. No one cares that much about him, maybe the Stranger Things fans, but he doubted most of the awarded, famous artists in that room respected his show.
You on the other hand? Joe was aware of how heads turned whenever you passed, how most artists were nervous of talking to you and wouldn’t even try most of the time.
If they only knew how approachable and down-to-earth you were. If they could see you fangirling over romance books at one in the morning in nothing but an oversize shirt of his and a skincare mask.
Although… in all honesty, Joe was glad he was the only one with the privilege to know you like the back of his hand. To know the real you, not Y/N Y/L/N the most famous young actress and singer of this century.
Joe held you tighter and kissed your cheek. “Baby… please. Look at what you’re doing to me.”
You almost moaned when he rubbed his hardness against your ass.
“But we’ll only have, like, five minutes to do anything.”
Joe’s whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine. “You know I can make you come in less time, honey.”
Fuck… Lust was clouding your mind. Maybe no one would notice the empty spots on your table.
“Fine. Go to the second floor men’s bathroom and wait for me until the next commercial break.”
He pulled away before tenderly kissing your lips. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” you mumbled and watched him rush to the closest elevator. “Damn…” you said to yourself, entertained by his eagerness.
Joe was so pathetic for you.
— — —
It had been ten minutes with no news of you. Joe was walking around the small space anxiously with his jeans and boxers bunched down to his knees, his hand teasing his cock with short strokes.
“Where the fuck are you?” he muttered to the quiet air.
Meanwhile, in the grand salon, the winner finished his speech and the show took a commercial break. A five-minute countdown started on the screens.
You cursed internally as you ran out of the room before anyone could try speaking to you.
On all the past breaks, people had bombarded you, asking about your future projects, about your relationship, about Crashing Waves… These events were for networking, but you were sort of done with the small talk and forced chuckles.
You lowkey needed dick.
Fine, you were craving Joe, but you had tried being more discreet and patient.
Waiters and assistants were running all around the venue, taking drinks, aiding people, and making sure the show was going perfectly. They were too distracted to notice you slipping behind the bar to the elevator… except for the two young bartenders who frowned at your obvious attempt at discretion.
They wouldn’t say anything, so you paid them no mind and pressed the button marking ‘2.’ The doors closed and displayed your reflection. You sighed nervously and brushed your hair with your fingers. Why were you even doing that? It was going to get messy after your ‘activities’ with Joe.
The hallways on the second floor were quietly empty, as you had expected. Why would people go anywhere but the bar during the breaks? You took off your heels and ran to the men’s bathroom.
Your heart was thumping from the adrenaline, your pussy getting wet from the danger of it all. The last stall’s door was just closing. You smirked and put the heels on; you cleared your throat and made sure your steps sounded as you approached it.
“So naughty, so desperate, so pathetic,” you filled the silence. “You just can’t keep it in your pants, huh? Maybe a blowjob would make you behave.”
You pushed the door hard, but your smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a horrified gasp.
Kevin Hart had his hands frozen on his unbuckled belt. He looked scared until he recognized you. He raised his hands and smirked. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happily married, dear.”
You took a step back and looked away, even if he was dressed. Your face was burning as you stumbled over your words. “Oh my— I’m so, so sorry. My boyfriend… Shit, I… This is—”
“Hey, it’s fine. I supposed you were looking for somebody else,” Kevin chuckled. “I’m glad you met me instead, to be honest. I’m a big fan of your work!”
The clock was ticking as you wondered where your boyfriend could’ve gone. You had been very clear: the second-floor men’s bathroom. How could he get confused at that? Had the horniness messed with his head?
You finally turned your eyes back to Kevin Hart and smiled nervously. “Thanks. I loved…” You couldn’t really remember any of his work. “...when you slapped Will Smith.”
He snickered and sat down on the toilet. “I know probably everyone tells you this, but, man… Crashing Waves is the best tv show in history. I have, like, ten thousand Tiktok edits on my gallery. Oh, and my family loves it. We sit together to watch every season and— Wait…” He pulled out his phone. “Can you make a short video for my daughter? She loves your music.”
Thoughts of Joe disappeared the moment he mentioned his daughter. You gasped excitedly. “Of course! What’s her name?”
After you recorded various videos saying hi to Kevin Hart’s kids (then to his siblings, cousins, and nephews), you promised him tickets to your next tour and refused his insistent offer of giving you his brother’s phone number. You could’ve just walked out, but your people-pleasing self didn’t want to seem rude.
The speakers had announced the ending of the break in thirty seconds, but you couldn’t go back without finding Joe. Kevin Hart gave you a grateful hug and finally let you escape.
The women’s bathroom was empty, so you ran downstairs and threw open the first-floor men’s bathroom. “Joe?” You were never repeating the mistake of opening stalls without asking. “Are you here?”
A hand came up from a stall. “Here!”
The second he saw your heels outside his door, Joe opened it and pulled you into a fierce kiss. “What took you so long?”
You fell back into the closed door and tried to kiss him back while talking. “I went to the bathrooms upstairs but you weren’t there.”
He frowned, pulling back. “You said second floor.”
“Yeah, and this is the first one.”
“No, it’s the second. The elevator didn’t work, so I climbed a set of stairs and…” He stopped as realization dawned on him. “And that floor was the Lobby, so this is the first, and the second is—”
“Upstairs,” you muttered. “I walked in on Kevin Hart almost taking a shit.”
But instead of laughing, Joe shut you up with another kiss. “Don’t talk about other men while I’m trying to fuck you,” he joked.
“Yeah ‘cause I was definetly gonna blow Kevin Hart.” You rolled your eyes.
Joe’s kisses dropped to your neck as his hands wandered to your butt. “I don’t know. You like slaps and kinky shit like that.”
You pushed him to the closed toilet and straddled him. “Alright, the commercial break is over, but we should make this quick anyway.”
Joe’s arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him. You started to grind your hips, making him moan. “Fuck…”
He had his jeans and underwear hanging on his knees, his hard cock leaking against his tummy.
You licked your lips and stood up. After bunching up your dress, you tried to kneel, but Joe stopped you. “No, wait. I don’t want that. I need to be inside you, baby,” he pleaded.
“But I’m not prepared enough.” You pulled down your thong to show your semi-wet pussy.
If he didn’t eat you out before penetrating you, his cock would hurt you terribly. It was difficult getting used to such size.
“It’s okay.” Joe casually pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube from his pants’ pocket.
Your jaw dropped. “Have you been carrying that all night?”
He shrugged, smirking. “After I saw you trying on that dress, I knew I wouldn’t control myself all night, sweetheart.”
You blinked, frowning, then snorted. “Joe, that could’ve fallen out of your pocket mid-presentation!”
Joe opened the condom and carefully put it on. He uncapped the bottle and poured lube on his fingers. “And? Is not as if people don’t know couples have sex.”
You caressed his blond hair. “Baby, the Golden Globes is a PG-13 show. You would’ve traumatized more than just our family.”
Joe froze and grimaced. “Can we go back to sexy talk? It’s odd thinking of our families while I’m touching my dick.”
You opened your mouth but just chuckled. “I’m sorry! Uhm…” You spat on your clit and rubbed it. “Wait, did you just say ‘sexy talk’? What are you? Fifteen?”
Joe shut you up by inserting three lubed fingers inside you. Normally, he could get you wet in seconds, but for the sake of time, lube will have to do.
You moaned as he moved them quickly, preparing you. “Fuck, Joe… Just like that.”
But he took them off, wiped them on his thigh and pulled you back to straddling his lap. Obediently and on instinct, you tried to get comfortable enough to ride him. Joe leaned back, his hands dropping to caress your thighs as he looked up at you with darkened eyes.
“You look so hot, baby,” he whispered. “Gonna ride me good?”
You grabbed his protected cock and aligned it on your prepared entrance. “Gonna give you what you want so you can shut up.”
His hips flexed slightly as his tip grazed you. “I’ll never shut up about you. You’re too beautiful. My pretty girl.”
You held onto his shoulders while sinking down on him. Joe threw his head back with a choked groan, the grasp on your hips tightening like a vise, like he needed to remind himself you were really on top of him.
“Oh, God!” you whined at the size. You were barely sitting on half of it.
Joe kissed your collarbone and soothed your hips. “It’s okay, baby. Take your time.”
“We don’t have time,” you muttered. Closing your eyes, you sank down completely. “Fuck!”
His breath turned uneven, his voice already wrecked. “Baby, I’m not lasting long. F-feels so good. Y-you feel… P-please move.”
You braced yourself and started riding him fast, ignoring the pain and focusing on your boyfriend’s pleasure. His hands slid up to your lower back, squeezing your ass hard.
“You’re so perfect. Making me insane just by just existing… I’ve needed you since we got into that limousine,” he murmured into your neck, his teeth scraping over the perfumed skin at your neck. “So good for me. Only me.”
You moaned and threw your hair back to give him more access. “Only yours, Joe. I’m yours.”
His nails were marking your skin as he helped you ride him. Joe knew he was on the verge of finishing, but he wanted you to do it first. And he knew exactly how.
Joe spanked you hard before gripping your chin and angling your face back to him. “Damn right you’re mine. This pussy was made for me.” He pressed a messy, possessive kiss to your lips, biting the lower one. “I’m not letting you go. Not even if goddamn Elordi tries to charm you again.”
You smirked and rolled your hips harder. “I knew you would get jealous about that. He was just being friendly.”
He gripped your hair and pulled you closer. “Don’t play. He was flirting with you.”
You had no patience to tease him, so you shoved down your dress straps. “I don’t care about him. He’s nothing compared to you, Joe.” You arched your back and pushed his head down to your breasts. “The only one that I want inside me, the only one that can touch me.”
Joe’s eyes turned darker before he started to press open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“No marks,” you reminded him.
He groaned and captured one of your nipples in his mouth. His hand gripped your waist as he moved you up and down his length, his hips flexing up to meet yours.
“So pretty. So soft… Fucking obsessed with you,” he murmured against your skin.
His thumb brushed over the other nipple, delightfully watching your reactions. You gasped and moaned as your legs burned from the effort of riding him in such a small space.
You were getting close, but it wasn’t enough. Rubbing yourself wouldn’t be as pleasurable.
“Baby…” you whined. “Take off the condom.”
Joe’s entire body went still. He released your nipple and looked up at you hesitantly. “Honey—” His voice was rough, and he was trying to not show too much eagerness. “Are you sure? You aren’t on the pill.”
You were too horny to think straight. “Whatever. I’ll take a Plan B tomorrow. There’s a pharmacy in front of the hotel.”
Joe knew he had to think rationally, but it was too difficult with you half-naked on top of him, begging him for something he had dreamed of since the moment he met you.
You noticed his hesitation, so you pressed yourself closer and kissed his jaw. “I need to feel you completely, Joe. Need you to fill me up—”
You hadn’t even finished talking when Joe was already standing up with you in his arms. Who was he trying to lie to? He would always give you anything you wanted. Anything.
He pressed you against the door and pulled out. His shaky hands took off the condom, throwing it to the floor, and sank back into you.
“Holy shit,” he whimpered, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. “Fuck— Feels great.”
Your pussy clenched at feeling him raw for the first time, welcoming him. There was no going back after this. Now, you finally belonged to each other. Your legs wrapped against him as he accelerated his thrusts.
“Fuck, Joe! Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly and shamelessly.
The door rattled behind you with each rough snap of his hips against yours. “I love you. Love you so fucking much. Moan my name again.”
You threw your head back as he buried his face against your neck. “Joe! L-love you too. Don’t s-stop, baby.”
The overwhelming feeling of your bare pussy around him was attacking all of his body. In that moment, Joe knew he never wanted to be inside anyone else ever again.
“I’ve loved you ever since I met you,” he confessed. “Ever since I saw you singing at that Christmas party, I knew I was ruined.”
He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours as he kept fucking you.
“I’m so fucking ruined. You’re it for me, Y/N. You’re my everything,” he murmured before kissing you firmly. “My all, my world… I’m never letting you go. No point in living if I’m not loved by you.”
You were sort of taken aback by his sudden romantic words; he was usually more of a dirty talker during sex, leaving the cute poetry for his songs. But it seemed that romance was getting you closer to the edge as you clenched around him.
“Yeah? You’re obsessed with me?” you joked with a breathy moan.
“So much,” he said without hesitation. “Can’t believe every day I wake up with the prettiest, smartest, most talented woman by my side.”
You chuckled and kissed him softly. “Rub my clit, honey.”
He obeyed instantly, holding your body with an arm and finding your weakest point with his right hand. “I mean it, babe. I’m devoted to you. You have me wrapped around your finger.”
“And my pussy,” you teased before biting your lip hard.
You were on the verge… just a tiny bit more.
“Let me come inside you,” Joe whimpered in a shaky voice. His pupils were blown in lust, looking feral and drunk. His thumb was rubbing your clit with all his might. “Please… I can feel you close. Need to fill you up, baby. Need to make you mine…”
With just a brief nod from you, Joe gripped your hips hard and let himself come undone deep inside you. Feeling his cum painting your insides made you follow him over the edge. Your body trembled as a broken moan escaped your lips.
He kept you close as both tried to recover your breaths. You could feel each other's rapid heartbeats filling the quiet bathroom. Joe pressed gentle kisses on your neck and jaw.
“Don’t take the pill tomorrow,” he murmured.
You froze.
Joe slowly kissed around your face as he kept going. “I meant everything I said. I’m yours, and I wanna be yours forever. Don’t take it and let’s start a family. Together. Ours.”
When he pulled back and noticed your shocked face, he knew he had fucked up. Joe gulped and pulled out. He quickly pulled out his coat’s handkerchief and pressed it on your leaking pussy to avoid a mess on the floor.
“I, uhm… I meant that if you want to take the pill or not, it’s your choice, and I’ll be okay with whichever,” he whispered, trying to calm you or get a different reaction from you. “But it’s your choice, okay? Didn’t mean to sound like I was pressuring you or—”
“No, no. It didn’t feel like that at all,” you quickly reassured him.
“It’s just… I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind cancelling the tour to have a baby with you,” he confessed but quickly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I must be overwhelming you. I just —”
“And here are the nominees for Best Actress in a Television series,” was heard on the hallway’s speakers.
The show had continued, of course, but you hadn’t paid mind to it until now.
Joe and you paled, going still for a second, before quickly rearranging your clothes.
“Please not me, please not me,” you whispered nervously.
Joe helped you tidy your messy post-sex hair as you ran out of the bathroom. You hadn’t even taken a look at your reflection, but you were sure there was no lipstick on your lips and that your mascara had probably gotten mushy around your eyes.
“Do I look like I just got fucked?” you asked him as you ran down the last set of stairs to the main lobby.
Joe took a long glance at you and pressed his lips in a line. He lied, “No. Just…” He rubbed your under-eye nervously. “Uhm…”
“And the Golden Globe goes to…”
Joe and you grabbed each other’s hands instinctively as you stood outside the doors. He had rooted for you all season… but now he was sort of wishing for Ayo Edebiri to win.
“Y/N Y/L/N!”
“Fuck!” you both yelled.
Joe brushed your hair one last time before pushing you to the door. “Go, go!”
“I’m on it!” you groaned and hesitantly entered the theater.
There were three cameramen frantically looking for you near your table. You held the bottom of your dress up and rushed across the tables with shaky ‘excuse me’s.
“She is here!”
“Over there!”
You waved and smiled awkwardly as a camera found you and the crowd could finally applaud. People were standing up—oh wow—and patting your back as you passed by them.
“Congrats!”
“You were great!”
“So deserved!”
You thanked back and shook as many hands as you could until you reached the stage’s stairs. Why were they made of crystal? Ugh. You carefully climbed them, but at the last one, you stumbled.
Gasps filled the room. An event’s assistant ran to your side before you could fall, but you were already covering your face from the embarrassment. Well, maybe you could blame your messy state on the almost-fall.
Jason Bateman gave you the award. “Congrats! You alright?”
You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, thanks!”
People sat down as you finally reached the microphone. Out of habit, you brushed your hair out of your face and behind your shoulders. “Oh God… I’m never going to the bathroom mid-show again!”
Laughter ran across the place while you were internally panicking because the speech you prepared was in your purse. Time to improvise.
“Thank you, Golden Globes. I know this was a hard decision since all my fellow nominees were great. And I mean that, I watched all their shows. And uhm… Yeah. Uhm… My Crashing Waves family, thank you for the support, for trusting me with this wonderful character through every season, since I was only twenty-one and inexperienced and… a nervous mess, just like I am right now!”
On your table, your show’s producer laughed along with the crowd. Right behind him, Joe was discreetly reaching his seat.
And everything made sense again.
You smiled warmly and held the award closer to your chest. “I also wanna thank my partner of almost two years, Joe.” You sighed and looked directly at him. “This was a hard season with all the messed-up things that my character went through, and I know I wouldn’t have survived without you. You who always had pancakes and scrambled eggs ready every morning I had to go to set. You who missed many music events to be with me on set. You who helped me escape my mental monsters every night in your arms.”
Joe was looking up at you with adoration as he mouthed an ‘I love you.’
You giggled, your eyes getting tearful. “I love you more.” There were so many things you wanted to pour out of your heart, but maybe they were for your boyfriend’s ears only.
“Uhm, so yeah,” you turned back to the crowd. “Thanks to everyone I didn’t mention but knows I appreciate them. Bye!”
This time, an assistant was already ready to escort you down the stairs. You held his arm and whispered, “Sorry that I got you doing this too. I bet you have a lot to do already.”
He shook his head and smiled widely. “Having you touching my arm is the highlight of my life!”
“Oh!” you chuckled and patted his arm. “Want a selfie?”
After taking a picture with a few more assistants, you went back to your table. Gary, your show’s producer, hugged you tightly. “Oh, my darling Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”
You thanked everyone at the table and, finally, walked to your boyfriend. He was waiting for you with a smile and a rose. You frowned. “Where did you get this?”
Joe placed an arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed your head. “Stole it from a vase on the bar. The waiter said it was fine if it was for you… then she asked me if we were secretly married and I said yes just for fun.”
Your frown deepened, but you laughed and kissed him on the lips. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he corrected, murmuring against your lips. He gave you the rose and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Congrats on the award, honey. I kinda cried with your speech.”
“I had so much more prepared!” you whined and looked for the crumbled up paper on your purse. “I was gonna thank my family, your mom, my high school art teacher, every girl around the world who dreams to be an actress, and our dog.”
Joe blinked as a smile slowly formed on his face. “Every girl who dreams to be an actress?”
“Yeah! I wanted to tell them to follow their dreams and not let men step on them,” you sighed sadly. “I’ll just put it in my Instagram post caption.”
Joe opened his mouth to speak, but he forgot everything when he noticed a very visible red mark below your jaw, at the left side of your neck. It hadn’t been noticeable while you were on stage due to the various spotlights… but on camera.
You frowned at his sudden silence. “What—?”
He covered the hickey with your hair and shook his head. “Nothing. Just… don’t move your hair from there… and we should probably skip the after-party.”
You paled as you slowly understood. Instinctively, you dove your hand in your purse for your phone. Joe stopped you. “Don’t… it’s been buzzing a lot and I’m not sure if it’s because of the award.”
Joe and you sat down as people scrambled around the place to enjoy the break. “I don’t have the patience,” you admitted and unlocked your phone.
There were over a thousand mentions on Twitter, more than five hundred messages from your friends, and a single one from your manager.
Laura: I’M STERILIZING JOE TOMORROW.
Joe sighed. “Don’t enter Twitter—” You ignored him. “Babe…”
He had deleted the app years before dating you, but screenshots sent from friends informed him how much people talked about you two.
Your jaw dropped at the first tweet that popped up. It had gotten over two hundred thousand likes in less than five minutes.
There were four attachments: one of you two on the red carpet, with Joe staring hungrily at you as you posed; another one of him grabbing your ass behind the stage while you applied your lipstick; then you two walking out of the men’s bathroom, looking incredibly messy and obvious with your dress’ straps hanging off your shoulders; and the last one… you on the stage with a red circle drawn around your neck, signalling the hickey.
On top, the tweet read: STEVE HARRINGTON LIVING MY DREAM AGHHH @ joe_keery CAN YOU FIGHT?
---
a/n: jacob elordi is my husband and joe keery is my baby daddy i love them and need them to fight over me aghh anyway i wanna write a pt.2 where she is deciding between taking the pill or not... we'll see!
Summary: Co-presenting an award with your boyfriend Joe should be easy, but nerves and sex send your night spiraling into disaster.
Word count: 9.3k
Warnings: +18 MDNI. SMUT (unprotected p in v, riding, kinda breeding kink, sorta lovemaking), more plot than porn tbh, established relationship, basically FLUFF because joe is deeply in love with you, reader is famous af, jacob elordi being a menace to society.
Everyone was obsessed with Joe and you separately, but when you two started dating? No other couple could compare. You had been universally labeled as ‘Hollywood’s IT Couple.’
Even though the absurdly big amount of support had been a surprise, you tried to keep your privacy as much as possible. Supermarket runs were over, TikToks had to be double-checked before posting, and gossip pages were constantly trying to stir up drama. But only Joe and you knew how genuinely incredible your relationship was, and you refused to let fans or media break you apart.
So you didn’t hesitate in accepting the Golden Globes offer to present an award together. You were already nominated for Best Actress in a Television Series, and Joe would obviously be your plus one. People would probably accuse you two of milking your relationship by going to all the red carpets and events together, but after almost a year of dating, you didn’t really care about anyone’s opinion anymore.
So what if you wanted to post a picture of shirtless Joe making you breakfast right before promoting his new album? You knew people were going to run to your Instagram stories, so you might as well get some new fans for The Crux.
'They are so PR!' was the funniest comment you received. If only they knew how devoted you were to each other.
Your manager was ecstatic about the increasing popularity of the Stranger Things season 5 finale and 'End of Beginning.' She wanted you to date someone as famous as you, and even though Joe had a hundred million fewer followers than you, he was unproblematic, well-liked by the media, and growing in popularity.
You had attended the Golden Globes for the last five years, even winning two awards for Best Actress for your main role in your famous HBO tv show, Crashing Waves. Everyone loves to win, but you were feeling a bit shy of possibly winning a third time for the same show. You didn’t want your peers to resent you or think that the show’s producers had a contract with the academy.
Joe thought you were delusional. “Nobody hates you for it, babe. That’s, like, everybody’s favorite show. We all want you to win because you fucking deserve it.”
Maybe he was right, but deep down you hoped somebody else would take the award home.
After a year of constant communication, your managers had become best friends—although Joe and you were sure they were dating—and had chosen the perfect matching outfits for the event.
Joe looked incredibly handsome with a white suit, black pants, and his new blond hair, while you represented the ‘epitome of sexiness’ (Joe’s words) with your sheer black dress.
“How is this matching?” you asked your managers. “We’re wearing opposite colors.”
“Exactly!” Jane exclaimed. “Everyone loves the ‘opposites-attract’ narrative you two have going on.”
Laura, your manager, nodded. “While he looks like an angel, you look like a hot, tempting devil.” She slapped your ass playfully, making Joe glare at her. “No one would be able to look away from you, dear.”
They weren’t wrong; the dark aesthetic of your makeup and dress made you seem as if you would slap anyone who took the award from you.
“You look beautiful,” Joe mumbled on the limousine’s backseat, kissing your hand. “Like you’re gonna spank me and tell me to shut up.”
You smirked. “I don’t have to look like a Disney villain to do that.”
Joe snorted. “You don’t look like a villain at all. More like… a hot vampire.” He scooted closer and kissed your neck. “I need you, baby.”
It was barely seven o’clock, and with the entire event and after party, you’d probably be back at the hotel around three a.m.
You gently pushed him off. “Behave. I can’t have hickeys now.”
“Why not?” he whined and playfully bit your shoulder, making sure to not leave a mark. “That’ll keep the men away.”
“Your presence will be enough for that, honey.”
Joe jokingly gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “What do you mean? Are you calling me possessive?”
Your boyfriend was the least toxic man in the world. Many would even describe him as the sweetest person in any room. But whenever a man would get too close, smile too widely, or eye you a bit too much…
You sighed. “That would be an understatement.”
The red carpet was pretty chaotic, as usual, with camera flashes blinding you, interviewers begging for your attention, and fans screaming for selfies. You used to hate that part, but doing it with Joe reduced all the stress. He kept a supportive hand on your lower back all the time and constantly whispered compliments in your ear. You two had reached enough peace and shamelessness that when fans chanted ‘kiss, kiss, kiss,’ Joe pleased them with a soft, lingering peck on your lips.
“I love you,” he whispered, but everyone read his lips and screamed like crazy.
You just blushed and chuckled as your managers took you inside.
“Oh, my children,” Jane whined with a happy smile while watching the pics she had taken of you on her phone. “If you ever break up, I’ll lock you in a cabin on a remote island until you solve things.”
Joe and you froze, looking at his manager with wide eyes, but an event assistant arrived to escort you to your seats.
Most people were already in their seats, chatting with their colleagues, so there were only two chairs available on your table. Well, of course you were awkwardly sort of late…
Everyone looked up when you arrived.
Joe and you smiled politely at your show’s director, producers, and—
“Oh my god, Jacob Elordi,” you shrieked at your celebrity crush sitting right there, a few meters from you, next to the Frankenstein cast.
They all laughed, bringing you back to reality. You blushed deeply and looked embarrassed at Jacob. “I’m just— Wow. Hey, hi.”
The handsome man’s cheeks were a light shade of pink too. He shook your hand. “Nice to finally meet such a superstar.”
HE KNEW YOU?!
Joe’s squeeze of your hip unfroze you. He knew of your fangirl crush on Jacob Elordi, but having him in person, in front of you, looking a bit flushed too… It wasn’t cute or funny anymore.
You cleared your throat and sat down nervously, looking everywhere but at Jacob. For years, you had seen him from afar in every event, too shy to ask him for a picture, and now he was next to you.
“What the hell!” you mouthed to your boyfriend, discreetly pointing at Jacob. “He’s real?”
Before Joe could reply, Jacob spoke, sending a shudder down your spine. “I’m a big fan of Crashing Waves.”
Oh, you were in a dream. Joe nudged your knee, quietly reminding you to reply.
You looked at Jacob and tried to smile. “Yeah? Y-you’ve seen it?”
Jacob scoffed. “Of course. It’s my favorite. And you? Wow. Amazing performance every damn minute.”
You grasped Joe’s hand beneath the table. It wasn’t the cold air conditioner that was making you tremble.
“Hey, Y/N,” your director called across the table. “You look like a tomato.”
All eyes turned to you before they snickered softly. You covered your face, absolutely embarrassed.
Joe forced a chuckle and soothed your back. “She gets like that with compliments.”
“And how are you gonna receive that award, then?” teased Guillermo del Toro.
Guillermo del Fucking Toro was talking to you. You quickly looked up and hurriedly said, “Mr. del Toro, oh God, pleasure to meet you. Big, big fan of Pinocchio.”
He chuckled and shook your hand. “Most people say ‘Shape of Water,’ but it’s nice hearing something different.”
“We loved Frankenstein,” Joe added, also staring at the man with awe. “I—”
Jacob cut him off. “We were talking about you, actually.”
Your jaw dropped. “M-me?”
He nodded and smiled charmingly. “I was telling Guillermo that you should audition for his next movie.”
You almost stood up from the surprise. With a stoic face, you said, “It’d be the honor of my life, Mr. del Toro.”
The table guests laughed, but Joe knew you were serious. The director waved his hand. “You can just call me Guillermo, dear. Give me your number.”
As you exchanged numbers with the widely awarded man, Joe noticed Jacob’s eyes shamelessly raking all over you, lingering on your cleavage.
Was he fucking serious right now?
Joe put an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple, trying to discreetly remind Elordi that you were his girlfriend. “Are you still nervous about the award? Because I think I just saw Ayo Edebiri gushing about you with her friends.”
You looked around for your fellow nominee, almost breaking your neck.
But it seemed Joe was invisible to Jacob as he grabbed your hand over the table and talked before you could. “Please, just between us, tell me the end of Crashing Waves.”
Your eyes widened. Jacob Elordi was touching you. Your inner fifteen-year-old, who hated The Kissing Booth saga but watched it a million times because of your favorite actor, would be crashing out right now.
Your tv show’s main producer, Gary, shook his head. “Don’t do it, Y/N. He already tried with me.”
You giggled and… didn’t move your hand away, Joe noticed.
“My contract forbids me to. Sorry,” you said. “Not even my boyfriend knows it.”
Gary snorted. “I don’t believe that one bit.”
You blushed and looked conspiratorially at Joe. “I probably would’ve told him, but he doesn’t wanna be spoiled.”
Joe nodded and took advantage of the table’s attention. “She’s always on the verge of telling me the ending in bed, in the shower, in the car, everywhere!”
Hopefully, the discreet sexual innuendo sent a clear message.
Jacob looked at him for the first time and forced a smile. “Djo, right? ‘Endings of Beginnings’ is a great song.”
Oh, Joe wanted to jump over you and choke the tall man. Every fucking person in the world knew his song. It had been number one on spotify for over two consecutive weeks. But a discreet squeeze on his thigh brought him back to the present.
You had noticed Jacob’s jab and didn’t like it one bit. The excitement about meeting your celebrity crush was gone. Your jaw tightened and your smile turned pursed.
Next to Jacob, Mia Goth chuckled. “I told you it’s ‘End of Beginning’! I played it all the time at my trailer.” She waved excitedly at you two. “While y’all were chatting, I was looking for this.”
She passed you her phone with a wide smile. Joe and you gasped at the screenshot of her Spotify Wrapped having both of you as her top two artists.
“I definitely did not beg the Golden Globes producers to put you two at our table,” she teased with a wink. “Can we take a picture at the commercial break?”
Joe and you nodded eagerly. “Of course!”
Even after years of making music and acting, meeting fans always filled your hearts, especially if they were your Hollywood colleagues.
“She’s working on her new album,” Joe pointed at you, making Mia gasp.
You chuckled and shook your head. “Not really. I’ve written, like, fifty songs but nothing concrete.”
Mia couldn’t care less about Jacob as she scooted her chair closer and grasped your hand over the table. “Is it a love album? I mean, your depressive ones are my faves, but I’m sure you’ll do great romantic songs.”
“They are,” Joe quickly said, loud enough for a certain giant man to listen.
You chuckled and squeezed Mia’s hand. “How can I not write love songs when I have such a muse?”
It was Joe’s turn to blush as everyone—except Jacob—‘aww’ed. But he wasn’t ashamed in the slightest; he was filled with joy. For a long time, he had wished for someone to love him as hard as he did, with the silly love songs and irrational, sporadic love acts.
And he finally found you, a poet wanting to be the muse of another poet. Your love languages matched and there wasn’t a paper in your apartment without a love poem written on it.
He kissed your cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
“A picture!”
A flash blinded you two. An event photographer had approached the table and was now asking the Frankenstein cast to get together for a general picture.
Joe and you scooted your chairs back to avoid appearing on the photo, finally getting a peaceful second for yourselves.
But an assistant suddenly appeared behind you with a clipboard and a pen. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, you’re the sixth presenters. I’ll come look for you in… twenty minutes. Be ready.” Then rushed to the next table.
You paled, randomly forgetting which award you were presenting for. But Joe smirked and said, “I loved that he called me ‘Mr. Y/L/N.’ I can get used to it, to be honest.”
So focused on your work, you hadn’t even noticed the assistant’s slip. You beamed and pinched his cheek. “But I want to be Mrs. Keery so bad, honey. I love your last name.”
“Okay, then you be Mrs. Keery and I’ll be Mr. Y/L/N,” he teased, causing you to chuckle.
“That defeats the whole purpose!”
Joe gasped, startling you, as his eyes found his table’s name card. He picked it up and showed it to you. “I’m ‘Joe Keery-Y/L/N,’ and you’ll address me like that from now on.”
Your jaw dropped too. What were the Golden Globes’ assistants playing at? Yours didn’t include his last name, so it had definitely been on purpose.
“This is coming home with me.” Joe kept looking at it with awe. “Take a pic of me holding it, please.”
Your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling at his cute reaction. In another universe, your ex-boyfriend would’ve been pissed by it. You took the photos with your phone, already wanting them as your new wallpaper.
But behind Joe, in the background of the pic… You gasped and almost dropped the phone. Joe turned around confused. “What?”
“Ariana Grande looks wonderful!” you screamed in a whisper.
The singer/actress was on a faraway table, calmly chatting with Selena Gomez. Joe raised his eyebrows. “She’s brunette. Wasn’t she blonde, like, yesterday?”
You sighed and patted his back. “Just because we rewatched Wicked For Good yesterday doesn’t mean it was filmed yesterday, baby.” He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t done. “You’re the newest blondie in town. No one will take your crown.”
He looked deadpan at you but couldn’t help smiling at your joke. “Be thankful you’re cute and I love you.”
You sent him a flying kiss and looked back at your phone. “She’s nominated for a Wicked song.”
Joe leaned closer to see the list too. “Uhh, the one I like? She’ll sing it?”
Oh, you were so in love with your chronically offline boyfriend. “No, babe. Popular is from the first movie.” You scrolled down and sighed. “Forget it. Golden will definitely win.”
He frowned and naively asked, “The Harry Styles song you like?”
You stared at him quietly for half a minute, then nodded. “Yeah, his 2019 hit is so nominated.”
Joe rolled his eyes at your teasing and leaned back on his chair. “I’ll never ask you anything again ever.”
“You’re not gonna speak to me anymore?” you smirked. “Give me this, then.”
When you reached for his name card, Joe quickly shielded it from you, keeping it close to his chest. “No, no. Don’t steal the highlight of my year.”
“It’s January 12th.”
“Enough days to know that I want to marry you this year,” he joked.
But your heart stopped. A man can’t just… joke about something like that! You cleared your throat and tried to act nonchalant. “I’m busy this year. Too many projects. Try in 2027.”
Joe’s arms encircled your hips to pull you closer. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear, “I’ll kidnap you, then. Fuck the movie industry.”
“It’ll fall apart without me,” you shrugged, pretending to be inspecting your nails.
“Oh, so true. They’ll lose their best actress,” he mumbled between kisses. And this time, you knew he wasn’t joking, which just flustered you more.
“Hey, loverbirds!” Gary, your show’s producer, threw a balled-up napkin your way. “Shut up. Shit’s starting.”
Blushing, you two pulled apart and pretended to pay attention to the host’s speech. Yet as the woman talked and joked, Joe’s hand suddenly found its way under your dress’s crease and started caressing up your thigh. You discreetly side-glanced at him.
“Don’t…” you muttered as his thumb reached the edge of your underwear.
But he didn’t move his hand away and you didn’t want him to stop, so you clapped and smiled while presenters announced winners and they gave their speeches.
By the third award, you discreetly leaned closer to Joe and muttered with a hand covering your mouth “What the hell are you—?”
His fingers grazed your clothed clit, making you flinch. You covered it with a cough while he just smiled calmly at the stage, paying all the attention in the world.
Casually, you placed an arm on his chair and ghosted your nails across his back. It seemed like a normal, loving action, but Joe knew better. His smile wavered as he tried to push your hand away without being too obvious.
“Dont play…,” he mouthed.
You smiled innocently and looked back at the stage. He wanted to play dirty? Well so could you.
But the challenging vibe left you when he pressed your clit hard. An inevitable gasp escaped your lips, catching your table’s attention.
You forced a smile and lied, “Sorry. I just love that movie.”
Hamnet’s trailer was playing on the screens… It hadn’t even hit theaters in America. But they believed you and returned their direction to the show.
Joe quickly whispered in your ear. “You’re so wet already.”
You pushed him off instinctively, then faked a smile and squeezed his shoulder, just in case a camera was on you.
Joe smirked and tried to move your panties to the side. Alright, enough. You scooted closer to the table, grabbed his wrist, and mumbled, “I’ll murder you if—”
“Excuse me.”
You both gasped at the sudden squeaky voice, jumping away from each other as if electrified.
Standing awkwardly behind you, the assistant raised her hands and whispered, “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, guys. I need to take you backstage.”
Joe discreetly wiped his fingers on the chair and nodded. You forced a smile and stood up, hoping there wasn’t a wet spot in your dress.
“What is wrong with you?!” you whispered to Joe as the woman guided the way.
He put an arm around your waist and shrugged. “I… honestly don’t know. You look so hot and fucking Elordi was hitting on you—”
“He wasn’t.”
But not even you could deny it. You smirked as your cheeks turned pink. “He so was, right?”
Joe rolled his eyes but smiled at your cuteness. “Who wouldn’t? You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
The second the backstage doors closed behind you, your hands found the nape of his neck as you pulled him down to a kiss. He grabbed your hips to press you closer and opened his mouth to deepen it.
“Hey, hey. Don’t mess up the makeup,” your manager appeared to ruin the moment.
Behind her, various assistants and crew were rushing around, making sure the show was running perfectly. Laura pulled out a small mirror and your lipstick. “Re-apply. Joe, don’t forget your glasses. Follow the woman; you have to be on stage in three minutes.”
Joe stared with hunger as you applied the expensive lipstick. Pretending not to notice him, you sent a kiss to the mirror and pouted. He distracted himself by focusing on the assistant leading them.
“Remember: you can drift from the teleprompter words, but not completely, okay?” she said.
You nodded and gave her your lipstick and mirror. “Can you please give this to that woman, the one that looks constipated?”
A few feet behind you, Laura mouthed, “I can hear you!”
The assistant left you two on the entrance spot behind the curtain and next to the stage. From there, you could see the Heated Rivalry actors chatting excitedly with Michael B. Jordan.
“There are only, like, six songs nominated. We could’ve listened to them,” Joe sighed.
You shrugged. “I did.”
“What?!” he gasped. “When?”
“This morning while you were showering.”
Joe feigned sadness as he shook his head. “You should’ve waited for me. Now I can’t judge the Oscar dudes that never watch all the nominated movies.”
You rolled your eyes. “Joe, we won’t choose the winning song. It’s completely different.”
Your boyfriend put an arm around your waist to pull you close and whispered, “I was joking. Laugh or I’m breaking up with you.”
You pressed your lips in a line, refusing to give in… but he started tickling you. “Stop! Joe—”
“Shh!” The assistant was back, looking a bit angrier, and gave Joe an envelope. “We’re coming back from commercials in thirty seconds. The camera is already on you. Good luck!”
You both stayed quiet until she had walked out of listening range, then looked at each other nervously.
“I’m shaking,” Joe confessed, showing you his trembling hands.
You whined, “Joe, you’re supposed to calm me!”
He put on his glasses and sighed. “We got this…”
“I love your sluttly little glasses,” you whispered in a shaky voice.
“Thanks,” he mumbled with his eyes glued to the camera. “We should’ve taken a shot before this.”
“We’re fine…” You grabbed his free hand. “Let’s enter like this instead of the elbow-holding thingy. We look like the Hunger Games tributes when they—”
“Coming to the stage,” a thundering voice came from the speakers. “you know him from Stranger Things and she’s the two-time Golden Globe winner… it’s Joe Keery and Y/N Y/L/N.”
That was your cue, of course. Joe and you walked hand in hand to the stage and towards the microphone. Everyone applauded as the chorus from End of Beginning played on the speakers. You could already imagine millions of fans shrieking excitedly at their screens.
As you mentally reminded yourself to not trip over your feet, your eyes found the teleprompter. Joe and you had already practiced two days ago in that same spot, something along “Music is an art that—”
…That wasn’t on the teleprompter. What? Joe and you stopped right behind the microphone, his eyes on you since your line was the first. Hadn’t he realized the changes?!
Oh, shit. The words were moving fast. You smiled and started, “Uhm… Showtunes, k-pop, blues, pop, rock, americana, this year’s nominees for Best Original Song are truly all over the place.”
Even though you sounded out of breath and rushed, Joe talked smoothly, “Seriously. If you show up at a party and they play all six of our nominees in a row, you'd be psyched because they are all incredible…”
You discreetly side-eyed him. Joe hadn’t even listened to them. Well, maybe he vaguely remembered the Wicked ones… although you had heard a light snore coming from him during The Girl in the Bubble.
“But you'd also have a few questions,” Joe’s line was the cue to yours.
You quickly looked back at the teleprompter just as your line went away. “Eh… Yeah, a million,” you improvised. “Like, damn, who wrote that masterpiece?”
Joe blinked, his plastered smile wavering. Your improv wasn’t really a match with the original “What are you on?” line.
He forced a chuckle and quickly saved it. “Yeah, or what are you on?”
“How much—” you started, then realized it was his line.
“...are you on?” Joe continued, trying to make it look like it had been on purpose. Oh, the cute couple are completing each other's lines!
“And can I please have some?” you finally read correctly.
Joe smiled proudly at you and said the last line, “All great questions. Now here is one more: Who is taking home the Golden Globe tonight?”
The camera’s red light disappeared as the show started displaying the nominees section. Your smiles disappeared instantly.
You grasped your boyfriend’s arm and whispered, “They changed that or am I schizophrenic?!”
“Both.” Joe tried to sound reassuring. “I mean, yeah I think they did. And it was going so fast. It wasn’t your fault, baby.”
“I never said it was…”
A three-second countdown appeared in the teleprompter. Joe squeezed your hand warningly and both of your charming, fake smiles came back.
“And the Golden Globe goes to…” you exclaimed.
Joe tried to open the envelope, but his fingers had turned sweaty from the nervousness, and it fell to the floor. You gasped dramatically at the worst case scenario happening.
Just as you leaned down to help, Joe stood up, crashing the back of his head into your collarbone.
“Ouch!”
“Sorry!”
You took a step back and collided with the microphone. “Ah!” you screamed as you quickly reached for it.
Joe winced, but managed to help you keep the mic stand straight. “Shit. I mean, oh—” He covered his mouth when one of the only curse word he was told not to say slipped out.
You leaned into the mic and yelled, “And the Oscar goes to…!”
“Golden Globe,” Joe corrected before squinting his eyes to read the envelope, “Uhm… Golden, The Hunters—”
“Kpop Demon Hunters,” you tried to correct, but the loud music and applause overshadowed your voices.
Joe gently grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the side of the stage. An assistant hesitantly looked at Joe before deciding to give you the award.
“They’re never calling us for this again,” Joe whined, rubbing the nape of his neck stressfully.
Before you could reply, the winner climbed up the stairs. You smiled widely and gave her the Golden Globe.
“Congrats!” you both exclaimed.
The woman briefly thanked you before walking to the microphone. On cue, you two rushed to the backstage.
“That was a mess. I’m not entering twitter for a week,” you whined.
Joe soothed your back. “Okay, people laughed… maybe with us and not at us?”
“Hey! Stop!”
You jumped at the desperate whisper behind you. The same assistant that had led you to the stage was running towards you.
“You have to present a second award! The best score!”
“Ohh!” Joe and you gasped as realization dawned in your faces.
You almost slapped your forehead at the collective loss of memory happening between both of you. Maybe spending too much time together was making your brain cells mix into just a big, stupid one.
“Here you go.” The woman gave Joe the result envelope.
He grimaced and shoved it into your hands. “Not doing that again.”
You stared at it as if it were a boiled potato. “But why me?!”
“Hurry up!” the woman yelled in a whisper. “Get on stage now!”
The previous winner was ending her speech in tears while you two tried to discreetly stand behind her. Applause aroused as the singer stepped away with her award, your sign to present the second nomination.
“Congratulations to Golden, Kpop Demon Hunters,” you said with a smile.
“Alright, everybody, now the award for Best Original Score Motion Picture,” Joe followed. “And the nominees are…”
You both released a breath of relief as the show switched to list the different movies and musicians.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Joe whispered.
Biting your lip, you carefully tried to open the envelope. You suddenly froze and said, “Oh my God… What if I say it wrong?”
Joe frowned, taking a quick look at the screen to make sure they weren’t on air. “What? How?”
“I don’t know! Look at the La La Land/Moonlight scandal and—”
The red dot reappeared on the camera. You two smiled again and Joe said, “And the Golden Globe goes to…”
You finally opened the envelope and forgot all professionalism as you gasped excitedly, “Ludwig Goransson from Sinners! Yeah!”
Joe applauded along with the crowd. He did remember that movie… “We went to that premiere, right?”
“Yeah, the one where my sister threw up after three margaritas.”
You received the award from an assistant and waited eagerly to give it to the artist.
The winner shook Joe’s hand before accepting the award and giving you a kiss on the cheek.
“Congrats! I love the Oppenheimer score,” you hurriedly told him.
“Oh, thanks!” He chuckled and walked to the mic.
Joe found your hand and intertwined your fingers. He squeezed it before whispering in your ear. “I think we did pretty good.”
But your manager didn’t think the same.
As the show finally went to a commercial break, Laura met you backstage with an exasperated face.
“They cut the Best Score one from the main broadcast,” she said.
You gasped. “What?! But we ate on that one!”
“Well, they only played the horrible one,” Laura grunted. “How could you forget to read the fucking teleprompter, Y/N? It’s there for a reason!”
While your manager and you bickered about the recent mess, all sound from the room vanished for Joe as he stared at you lovingly. He couldn’t get over how perfect that dress fitted you. It hugged you in all the right ways… especially your ass.
His pants were getting tighter. He mentally thanked his manager for choosing black pants that could make his hard-on barely noticeable.
Joe’s arms engulfed your waist as he pressed behind you. To anyone, it looked as if he was giving you a casual romantic hug, but you understood the message. Or, well, felt it.
You stopped fighting with Laura at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend’s big hard cock. Your cheeks turned red and you quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
Laura sighed deeply as she typed on her phone. “Whatever. People think you’re funny and cute. That’s all I need. See you later.”
“Bye!” Joe exclaimed in a teasing tone only for you.
You patted his arms and muttered, “Didn’t realize the Sinners score could be so arousing for you?”
He pressed closer and whispered. “No one will notice if we disappear.”
“Uhm, literally everyone will,” you fought back as you tried to push him off. “Babe, it’s too risky. There’s always eyes on us.”
On you, Joe wanted to say. No one cares that much about him, maybe the Stranger Things fans, but he doubted most of the awarded, famous artists in that room respected his show.
You on the other hand? Joe was aware of how heads turned whenever you passed, how most artists were nervous of talking to you and wouldn’t even try most of the time.
If they only knew how approachable and down-to-earth you were. If they could see you fangirling over romance books at one in the morning in nothing but an oversize shirt of his and a skincare mask.
Although… in all honesty, Joe was glad he was the only one with the privilege to know you like the back of his hand. To know the real you, not Y/N Y/L/N the most famous young actress and singer of this century.
Joe held you tighter and kissed your cheek. “Baby… please. Look at what you’re doing to me.”
You almost moaned when he rubbed his hardness against your ass.
“But we’ll only have, like, five minutes to do anything.”
Joe’s whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine. “You know I can make you come in less time, honey.”
Fuck… Lust was clouding your mind. Maybe no one would notice the empty spots on your table.
“Fine. Go to the second floor men’s bathroom and wait for me until the next commercial break.”
He pulled away before tenderly kissing your lips. “You’re the best.”
“I know,” you mumbled and watched him rush to the closest elevator. “Damn…” you said to yourself, entertained by his eagerness.
Joe was so pathetic for you.
— — —
It had been ten minutes with no news of you. Joe was walking around the small space anxiously with his jeans and boxers bunched down to his knees, his hand teasing his cock with short strokes.
“Where the fuck are you?” he muttered to the quiet air.
Meanwhile, in the grand salon, the winner finished his speech and the show took a commercial break. A five-minute countdown started on the screens.
You cursed internally as you ran out of the room before anyone could try speaking to you.
On all the past breaks, people had bombarded you, asking about your future projects, about your relationship, about Crashing Waves… These events were for networking, but you were sort of done with the small talk and forced chuckles.
You lowkey needed dick.
Fine, you were craving Joe, but you had tried being more discreet and patient.
Waiters and assistants were running all around the venue, taking drinks, aiding people, and making sure the show was going perfectly. They were too distracted to notice you slipping behind the bar to the elevator… except for the two young bartenders who frowned at your obvious attempt at discretion.
They wouldn’t say anything, so you paid them no mind and pressed the button marking ‘2.’ The doors closed and displayed your reflection. You sighed nervously and brushed your hair with your fingers. Why were you even doing that? It was going to get messy after your ‘activities’ with Joe.
The hallways on the second floor were quietly empty, as you had expected. Why would people go anywhere but the bar during the breaks? You took off your heels and ran to the men’s bathroom.
Your heart was thumping from the adrenaline, your pussy getting wet from the danger of it all. The last stall’s door was just closing. You smirked and put the heels on; you cleared your throat and made sure your steps sounded as you approached it.
“So naughty, so desperate, so pathetic,” you filled the silence. “You just can’t keep it in your pants, huh? Maybe a blowjob would make you behave.”
You pushed the door hard, but your smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a horrified gasp.
Kevin Hart had his hands frozen on his unbuckled belt. He looked scared until he recognized you. He raised his hands and smirked. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m happily married, dear.”
You took a step back and looked away, even if he was dressed. Your face was burning as you stumbled over your words. “Oh my— I’m so, so sorry. My boyfriend… Shit, I… This is—”
“Hey, it’s fine. I supposed you were looking for somebody else,” Kevin chuckled. “I’m glad you met me instead, to be honest. I’m a big fan of your work!”
The clock was ticking as you wondered where your boyfriend could’ve gone. You had been very clear: the second-floor men’s bathroom. How could he get confused at that? Had the horniness messed with his head?
You finally turned your eyes back to Kevin Hart and smiled nervously. “Thanks. I loved…” You couldn’t really remember any of his work. “...when you slapped Will Smith.”
He snickered and sat down on the toilet. “I know probably everyone tells you this, but, man… Crashing Waves is the best tv show in history. I have, like, ten thousand Tiktok edits on my gallery. Oh, and my family loves it. We sit together to watch every season and— Wait…” He pulled out his phone. “Can you make a short video for my daughter? She loves your music.”
Thoughts of Joe disappeared the moment he mentioned his daughter. You gasped excitedly. “Of course! What’s her name?”
After you recorded various videos saying hi to Kevin Hart’s kids (then to his siblings, cousins, and nephews), you promised him tickets to your next tour and refused his insistent offer of giving you his brother’s phone number. You could’ve just walked out, but your people-pleasing self didn’t want to seem rude.
The speakers had announced the ending of the break in thirty seconds, but you couldn’t go back without finding Joe. Kevin Hart gave you a grateful hug and finally let you escape.
The women’s bathroom was empty, so you ran downstairs and threw open the first-floor men’s bathroom. “Joe?” You were never repeating the mistake of opening stalls without asking. “Are you here?”
A hand came up from a stall. “Here!”
The second he saw your heels outside his door, Joe opened it and pulled you into a fierce kiss. “What took you so long?”
You fell back into the closed door and tried to kiss him back while talking. “I went to the bathrooms upstairs but you weren’t there.”
He frowned, pulling back. “You said second floor.”
“Yeah, and this is the first one.”
“No, it’s the second. The elevator didn’t work, so I climbed a set of stairs and…” He stopped as realization dawned on him. “And that floor was the Lobby, so this is the first, and the second is—”
“Upstairs,” you muttered. “I walked in on Kevin Hart almost taking a shit.”
But instead of laughing, Joe shut you up with another kiss. “Don’t talk about other men while I’m trying to fuck you,” he joked.
“Yeah ‘cause I was definetly gonna blow Kevin Hart.” You rolled your eyes.
Joe’s kisses dropped to your neck as his hands wandered to your butt. “I don’t know. You like slaps and kinky shit like that.”
You pushed him to the closed toilet and straddled him. “Alright, the commercial break is over, but we should make this quick anyway.”
Joe’s arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him. You started to grind your hips, making him moan. “Fuck…”
He had his jeans and underwear hanging on his knees, his hard cock leaking against his tummy.
You licked your lips and stood up. After bunching up your dress, you tried to kneel, but Joe stopped you. “No, wait. I don’t want that. I need to be inside you, baby,” he pleaded.
“But I’m not prepared enough.” You pulled down your thong to show your semi-wet pussy.
If he didn’t eat you out before penetrating you, his cock would hurt you terribly. It was difficult getting used to such size.
“It’s okay.” Joe casually pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube from his pants’ pocket.
Your jaw dropped. “Have you been carrying that all night?”
He shrugged, smirking. “After I saw you trying on that dress, I knew I wouldn’t control myself all night, sweetheart.”
You blinked, frowning, then snorted. “Joe, that could’ve fallen out of your pocket mid-presentation!”
Joe opened the condom and carefully put it on. He uncapped the bottle and poured lube on his fingers. “And? Is not as if people don’t know couples have sex.”
You caressed his blond hair. “Baby, the Golden Globes is a PG-13 show. You would’ve traumatized more than just our family.”
Joe froze and grimaced. “Can we go back to sexy talk? It’s odd thinking of our families while I’m touching my dick.”
You opened your mouth but just chuckled. “I’m sorry! Uhm…” You spat on your clit and rubbed it. “Wait, did you just say ‘sexy talk’? What are you? Fifteen?”
Joe shut you up by inserting three lubed fingers inside you. Normally, he could get you wet in seconds, but for the sake of time, lube will have to do.
You moaned as he moved them quickly, preparing you. “Fuck, Joe… Just like that.”
But he took them off, wiped them on his thigh and pulled you back to straddling his lap. Obediently and on instinct, you tried to get comfortable enough to ride him. Joe leaned back, his hands dropping to caress your thighs as he looked up at you with darkened eyes.
“You look so hot, baby,” he whispered. “Gonna ride me good?”
You grabbed his protected cock and aligned it on your prepared entrance. “Gonna give you what you want so you can shut up.”
His hips flexed slightly as his tip grazed you. “I’ll never shut up about you. You’re too beautiful. My pretty girl.”
You held onto his shoulders while sinking down on him. Joe threw his head back with a choked groan, the grasp on your hips tightening like a vise, like he needed to remind himself you were really on top of him.
“Oh, God!” you whined at the size. You were barely sitting on half of it.
Joe kissed your collarbone and soothed your hips. “It’s okay, baby. Take your time.”
“We don’t have time,” you muttered. Closing your eyes, you sank down completely. “Fuck!”
His breath turned uneven, his voice already wrecked. “Baby, I’m not lasting long. F-feels so good. Y-you feel… P-please move.”
You braced yourself and started riding him fast, ignoring the pain and focusing on your boyfriend’s pleasure. His hands slid up to your lower back, squeezing your ass hard.
“You’re so perfect. Making me insane just by just existing… I’ve needed you since we got into that limousine,” he murmured into your neck, his teeth scraping over the perfumed skin at your neck. “So good for me. Only me.”
You moaned and threw your hair back to give him more access. “Only yours, Joe. I’m yours.”
His nails were marking your skin as he helped you ride him. Joe knew he was on the verge of finishing, but he wanted you to do it first. And he knew exactly how.
Joe spanked you hard before gripping your chin and angling your face back to him. “Damn right you’re mine. This pussy was made for me.” He pressed a messy, possessive kiss to your lips, biting the lower one. “I’m not letting you go. Not even if goddamn Elordi tries to charm you again.”
You smirked and rolled your hips harder. “I knew you would get jealous about that. He was just being friendly.”
He gripped your hair and pulled you closer. “Don’t play. He was flirting with you.”
You had no patience to tease him, so you shoved down your dress straps. “I don’t care about him. He’s nothing compared to you, Joe.” You arched your back and pushed his head down to your breasts. “The only one that I want inside me, the only one that can touch me.”
Joe’s eyes turned darker before he started to press open-mouthed kisses across your chest.
“No marks,” you reminded him.
He groaned and captured one of your nipples in his mouth. His hand gripped your waist as he moved you up and down his length, his hips flexing up to meet yours.
“So pretty. So soft… Fucking obsessed with you,” he murmured against your skin.
His thumb brushed over the other nipple, delightfully watching your reactions. You gasped and moaned as your legs burned from the effort of riding him in such a small space.
You were getting close, but it wasn’t enough. Rubbing yourself wouldn’t be as pleasurable.
“Baby…” you whined. “Take off the condom.”
Joe’s entire body went still. He released your nipple and looked up at you hesitantly. “Honey—” His voice was rough, and he was trying to not show too much eagerness. “Are you sure? You aren’t on the pill.”
You were too horny to think straight. “Whatever. I’ll take a Plan B tomorrow. There’s a pharmacy in front of the hotel.”
Joe knew he had to think rationally, but it was too difficult with you half-naked on top of him, begging him for something he had dreamed of since the moment he met you.
You noticed his hesitation, so you pressed yourself closer and kissed his jaw. “I need to feel you completely, Joe. Need you to fill me up—”
You hadn’t even finished talking when Joe was already standing up with you in his arms. Who was he trying to lie to? He would always give you anything you wanted. Anything.
He pressed you against the door and pulled out. His shaky hands took off the condom, throwing it to the floor, and sank back into you.
“Holy shit,” he whimpered, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. “Fuck— Feels great.”
Your pussy clenched at feeling him raw for the first time, welcoming him. There was no going back after this. Now, you finally belonged to each other. Your legs wrapped against him as he accelerated his thrusts.
“Fuck, Joe! Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly and shamelessly.
The door rattled behind you with each rough snap of his hips against yours. “I love you. Love you so fucking much. Moan my name again.”
You threw your head back as he buried his face against your neck. “Joe! L-love you too. Don’t s-stop, baby.”
The overwhelming feeling of your bare pussy around him was attacking all of his body. In that moment, Joe knew he never wanted to be inside anyone else ever again.
“I’ve loved you ever since I met you,” he confessed. “Ever since I saw you singing at that Christmas party, I knew I was ruined.”
He looked at you, pressing his forehead against yours as he kept fucking you.
“I’m so fucking ruined. You’re it for me, Y/N. You’re my everything,” he murmured before kissing you firmly. “My all, my world… I’m never letting you go. No point in living if I’m not loved by you.”
You were sort of taken aback by his sudden romantic words; he was usually more of a dirty talker during sex, leaving the cute poetry for his songs. But it seemed that romance was getting you closer to the edge as you clenched around him.
“Yeah? You’re obsessed with me?” you joked with a breathy moan.
“So much,” he said without hesitation. “Can’t believe every day I wake up with the prettiest, smartest, most talented woman by my side.”
You chuckled and kissed him softly. “Rub my clit, honey.”
He obeyed instantly, holding your body with an arm and finding your weakest point with his right hand. “I mean it, babe. I’m devoted to you. You have me wrapped around your finger.”
“And my pussy,” you teased before biting your lip hard.
You were on the verge… just a tiny bit more.
“Let me come inside you,” Joe whimpered in a shaky voice. His pupils were blown in lust, looking feral and drunk. His thumb was rubbing your clit with all his might. “Please… I can feel you close. Need to fill you up, baby. Need to make you mine…”
With just a brief nod from you, Joe gripped your hips hard and let himself come undone deep inside you. Feeling his cum painting your insides made you follow him over the edge. Your body trembled as a broken moan escaped your lips.
He kept you close as both tried to recover your breaths. You could feel each other's rapid heartbeats filling the quiet bathroom. Joe pressed gentle kisses on your neck and jaw.
“Don’t take the pill tomorrow,” he murmured.
You froze.
Joe slowly kissed around your face as he kept going. “I meant everything I said. I’m yours, and I wanna be yours forever. Don’t take it and let’s start a family. Together. Ours.”
When he pulled back and noticed your shocked face, he knew he had fucked up. Joe gulped and pulled out. He quickly pulled out his coat’s handkerchief and pressed it on your leaking pussy to avoid a mess on the floor.
“I, uhm… I meant that if you want to take the pill or not, it’s your choice, and I’ll be okay with whichever,” he whispered, trying to calm you or get a different reaction from you. “But it’s your choice, okay? Didn’t mean to sound like I was pressuring you or—”
“No, no. It didn’t feel like that at all,” you quickly reassured him.
“It’s just… I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind cancelling the tour to have a baby with you,” he confessed but quickly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I must be overwhelming you. I just —”
“And here are the nominees for Best Actress in a Television series,” was heard on the hallway’s speakers.
The show had continued, of course, but you hadn’t paid mind to it until now.
Joe and you paled, going still for a second, before quickly rearranging your clothes.
“Please not me, please not me,” you whispered nervously.
Joe helped you tidy your messy post-sex hair as you ran out of the bathroom. You hadn’t even taken a look at your reflection, but you were sure there was no lipstick on your lips and that your mascara had probably gotten mushy around your eyes.
“Do I look like I just got fucked?” you asked him as you ran down the last set of stairs to the main lobby.
Joe took a long glance at you and pressed his lips in a line. He lied, “No. Just…” He rubbed your under-eye nervously. “Uhm…”
“And the Golden Globe goes to…”
Joe and you grabbed each other’s hands instinctively as you stood outside the doors. He had rooted for you all season… but now he was sort of wishing for Ayo Edebiri to win.
“Y/N Y/L/N!”
“Fuck!” you both yelled.
Joe brushed your hair one last time before pushing you to the door. “Go, go!”
“I’m on it!” you groaned and hesitantly entered the theater.
There were three cameramen frantically looking for you near your table. You held the bottom of your dress up and rushed across the tables with shaky ‘excuse me’s.
“She is here!”
“Over there!”
You waved and smiled awkwardly as a camera found you and the crowd could finally applaud. People were standing up—oh wow—and patting your back as you passed by them.
“Congrats!”
“You were great!”
“So deserved!”
You thanked back and shook as many hands as you could until you reached the stage’s stairs. Why were they made of crystal? Ugh. You carefully climbed them, but at the last one, you stumbled.
Gasps filled the room. An event’s assistant ran to your side before you could fall, but you were already covering your face from the embarrassment. Well, maybe you could blame your messy state on the almost-fall.
Jason Bateman gave you the award. “Congrats! You alright?”
You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, thanks!”
People sat down as you finally reached the microphone. Out of habit, you brushed your hair out of your face and behind your shoulders. “Oh God… I’m never going to the bathroom mid-show again!”
Laughter ran across the place while you were internally panicking because the speech you prepared was in your purse. Time to improvise.
“Thank you, Golden Globes. I know this was a hard decision since all my fellow nominees were great. And I mean that, I watched all their shows. And uhm… Yeah. Uhm… My Crashing Waves family, thank you for the support, for trusting me with this wonderful character through every season, since I was only twenty-one and inexperienced and… a nervous mess, just like I am right now!”
On your table, your show’s producer laughed along with the crowd. Right behind him, Joe was discreetly reaching his seat.
And everything made sense again.
You smiled warmly and held the award closer to your chest. “I also wanna thank my partner of almost two years, Joe.” You sighed and looked directly at him. “This was a hard season with all the messed-up things that my character went through, and I know I wouldn’t have survived without you. You who always had pancakes and scrambled eggs ready every morning I had to go to set. You who missed many music events to be with me on set. You who helped me escape my mental monsters every night in your arms.”
Joe was looking up at you with adoration as he mouthed an ‘I love you.’
You giggled, your eyes getting tearful. “I love you more.” There were so many things you wanted to pour out of your heart, but maybe they were for your boyfriend’s ears only.
“Uhm, so yeah,” you turned back to the crowd. “Thanks to everyone I didn’t mention but knows I appreciate them. Bye!”
This time, an assistant was already ready to escort you down the stairs. You held his arm and whispered, “Sorry that I got you doing this too. I bet you have a lot to do already.”
He shook his head and smiled widely. “Having you touching my arm is the highlight of my life!”
“Oh!” you chuckled and patted his arm. “Want a selfie?”
After taking a picture with a few more assistants, you went back to your table. Gary, your show’s producer, hugged you tightly. “Oh, my darling Y/N. I’m so proud of you.”
You thanked everyone at the table and, finally, walked to your boyfriend. He was waiting for you with a smile and a rose. You frowned. “Where did you get this?”
Joe placed an arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed your head. “Stole it from a vase on the bar. The waiter said it was fine if it was for you… then she asked me if we were secretly married and I said yes just for fun.”
Your frown deepened, but you laughed and kissed him on the lips. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he corrected, murmuring against your lips. He gave you the rose and stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Congrats on the award, honey. I kinda cried with your speech.”
“I had so much more prepared!” you whined and looked for the crumbled up paper on your purse. “I was gonna thank my family, your mom, my high school art teacher, every girl around the world who dreams to be an actress, and our dog.”
Joe blinked as a smile slowly formed on his face. “Every girl who dreams to be an actress?”
“Yeah! I wanted to tell them to follow their dreams and not let men step on them,” you sighed sadly. “I’ll just put it in my Instagram post caption.”
Joe opened his mouth to speak, but he forgot everything when he noticed a very visible red mark below your jaw, at the left side of your neck. It hadn’t been noticeable while you were on stage due to the various spotlights… but on camera.
You frowned at his sudden silence. “What—?”
He covered the hickey with your hair and shook his head. “Nothing. Just… don’t move your hair from there… and we should probably skip the after-party.”
You paled as you slowly understood. Instinctively, you dove your hand in your purse for your phone. Joe stopped you. “Don’t… it’s been buzzing a lot and I’m not sure if it’s because of the award.”
Joe and you sat down as people scrambled around the place to enjoy the break. “I don’t have the patience,” you admitted and unlocked your phone.
There were over a thousand mentions on Twitter, more than five hundred messages from your friends, and a single one from your manager.
Laura: I’M STERILIZING JOE TOMORROW.
Joe sighed. “Don’t enter Twitter—” You ignored him. “Babe…”
He had deleted the app years before dating you, but screenshots sent from friends informed him how much people talked about you two.
Your jaw dropped at the first tweet that popped up. It had gotten over two hundred thousand likes in less than five minutes.
There were four attachments: one of you two on the red carpet, with Joe staring hungrily at you as you posed; another one of him grabbing your ass behind the stage while you applied your lipstick; then you two walking out of the men’s bathroom, looking incredibly messy and obvious with your dress’ straps hanging off your shoulders; and the last one… you on the stage with a red circle drawn around your neck, signalling the hickey.
On top, the tweet read: STEVE HARRINGTON LIVING MY DREAM AGHHH @ joe_keery CAN YOU FIGHT?
---
a/n: jacob elordi is my husband and joe keery is my baby daddy i love them and need them to fight over me aghh anyway i wanna write a pt.2 where she is deciding between taking the pill or not... we'll see!
omg like your tummy one shot you should like make a part two ish where this time where stumbles upon complications of joe grinding on the mic stand and it gets her all worked up so the second joe gets home she’s all over him
smut lokwey 👀👀👀
You know what? Hell yeah! But let's make it real life, shall we? Far more glorious
Absolute Filth
Joe Keery x Reader
Content: MDNI, poorly written smut (first time lol), blowjobs, dressing room sex
Word Count: 5.9k
Synopsis: You see Joe grinding against his mic stand and your brain can't stop recalling it, though his mind is occupied with how the stage light made your blouse almost translucent.
You’ve seen Joe perform more times than you can count, you know his habits, his little on-stage quirks, the way he plays with the crowd and the way he moves when he gets lost in it – a little reckless even, the way he bounces across the stage sometimes. None of it is new to you.
So you just sway with the music, a cup of iced ginger ale in your hand, gazing out at the crowd from time to time. Some of the girls in the front would notice you, waving and pointing at you like they were here for you instead of him and sometimes, Joe would catch it too and smirk, following their gazes knowingly.
You don’t pay much attention at first, not to the way he slings his guitar behind his back or the way his hand grips the mic stand when he'd usually be drifting over towards Javi during that part of the set.
Not until he finally catches your eye and makes you pay attention to him. You’re off to the side, close enough to see the sweat glistening on his skin, close enough that when his eyes find yours, it doesn’t feel accidental.
Joe grinds his hips into the mic stand slowly, the dark denim of his jeans clinging to his thighs as he shifts his weight forward, dragging out the movement with lazy precision.
Your brain doesn’t quite know what to do with it the first time it happens. You stand there, the paper cup in your hand tilting dangerously, not because it startled you, but because it felt so unexpected. It doesn’t match anything you’ve seen him do before, at least not on stage.
The crowd reacts immediately and that alone tells you that you didn’t imagine it. People squeal, the first few rows shout giddily and even the band couldn't help but grin at his antics.
What lingers though, is the way his gaze finds yours right after, like he’s checking for something, like he’s waiting to see if you caught it, if you understood what he just did.
Maybe that’s why he does it again not long after, sneaking it into the performance, into those small in-between moments where the lights shift and the music intensifies just enough to get away with it.
And by the third or fourth time, your face is flushed, your thoughts are nowhere near where they should be and you’re very aware of how ridiculous it is that he’s managed to get under your skin when he's actively entertaining a room full of people.
Your outfit suddenly feels like a mistake too. But only to you, because everyone else, including Joe, thought you looked gorgeous, breathtaking even.
The black denim skirt you initially chose for comfort, suddenly sits a little too high on your thighs, shifting every time you move and the ivory coloured blouse you chose because it reminded you of Stevie Nicks suddenly turned sheer under the stage lights, not in a scandalous way, but you had no way to check beforehand so now Joe did it for you, gladly, an obvious smirk in place whenever the outline of your bra flashes through.
Your hair had taken a lot of time tonight, falling in big, loose waves over your shoulders and now all of it just feels like too much.
So by the time the set ends, you’re not even pretending to focus anymore. Someone on his team leads you toward the dressing room as he finishes his encore and you go willingly, because if you stay out there any longer, you might actually lose your mind.
You don't have to wait long for Joe to appear.
“None of your songs require that kind of obscene movement, Joseph.”
He’s halfway through grabbing a towel when he pauses, glancing at you through the mirror. An amused smile finds its way onto his face, not yet teasing, but it's sure getting there.
“Obscene?”, he echoes, like it entertains him more than it should. He turns properly, dragging the towel over his neck, completely unbothered while also being completely aware of himself in a way that makes it worse.
You cross your arms, trying to hold onto whatever point you thought you made. "Yeah, that was filth. Absolute filth. You know, you have minors coming to your shows and—"
“You look good, by the way”, he cuts in, still facing the vanity as he pats himself down with the towel, like it’s nothing more than a passing thought.
You falter at that, because it doesn’t feel like one.
He hasn’t turned around, hasn’t made a point of looking at you, but the way he says it doesn’t come across as conceited or thrown in to derail you. If anything, it feels pointed, like he's circling back to something.
Because you know he noticed you earlier.
“What...?”, your voice was quiet.
“The skirt”, he says, glancing at you now, eyes dragging over you in a way that feels lewd. “And that top—”, his gaze lingers just a second too long, “—was that a choice, or am I just lucky tonight?”
“It's a blouse and—”, you snap, even as your face warms further, completely thrown off track, "—it's not the point"
He hums, another amused smile gracing his lips. “Could’ve fooled me.”
You step closer, annoyed now at how good he was at distracting you.
“The point is that you were out there—doing that—in front of a crowd full of people”
He tilts his head slightly, like he’s considering it, the teasing smile never leaving his lips.
He doesn’t back you into anything or corner you like he’s trying to assert dominance, because that’s never been his way of doing things. Instead, he meets you in the middle of the room, letting the space between you shrink naturally, like it’s a choice you’re both making rather than something he’s forcing.
He's moving on his terms while letting you move on yours.
Meanwhile, his hand lifts without much thought, or at least that’s what it looked like at first. He liked touching your hair, or playing with it occasionally, so him brushing it back didn't seem out of the ordinary. The touch is light, almost careless, but his fingers drag along your neck just enough to make it linger.
You don’t miss the way his eyes follow. The light catches your blouse in a way that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, even the dim light of the dressing room does the trick and it’s obvious that he noticed now.
It takes you a moment to catch up though. To realise that he didn’t move your hair just to move it.
He wanted to see.
And now that he has, he doesn’t look away, he doesn't even attempt to make it any less obvious the way your chest called out to him in that moment, even if the sight itself wasn't scandalous or lewd in any way. It was bold at best, if anything.
He'd fight anyone who dared to make you feel uncomfortable for it, because it genuinely wasn't anything worth making a big deal out of unless it was him, Joe, making big deal out of wanting to worship you.
It was a slight fashion mishap that he gladly welcomed.
Something in his expression darkens, like he’s taking his time and paying attention to every small detail you didn’t even mean to offer. As you put on your outfit earlier, everything looked fine, now it was driving Joe insane and it has been since his set began and he first caught a glimpse of you.
“You weren’t paying attention”, he states suddenly. “Your eyes kept drifting and I—”, the corner of his mouth lifts, something self-satisfied slipping through, “I know how to fix that.”
Suddenly you're hyperaware as to why grinding his hips against the freaking microphone stand didn't necessarily cross his mind as a fun, slightly intrusive thought, but a way to maybe ease some of the friction.
“After that”, he continues, voice dropping just enough to make you lean in without realizing it, “you didn’t look away once”
Your throat tightens as his hand finds it's way onto your hips, sliding down slowly, his thumb brushing under the edge of your skirt in a way that’s light enough to be dismissed, but enough to send a quiet jolt through you anyway.
"I watched you grind on a microphone stand and felt like I was watching something I shouldn't", you deadpan and Joe chuckles, his hands halting in their movement.
"Oh, like the compilations of people going insane over my stomach?", he quips back, recalling the night you'd so shamelessly marked him as yours, because the thought of people thirsting over his slight tummy? Yeah, that had absolutely done it for you.
You blink, your mouth falling open just slightly and in a matter of seconds your face was fully flushed. Joe takes one last step, your bodies now pressing together as his hand moved up to cup both of your cheeks.
"You wanted it to be you, didn't you?", he asks against your lips, before placing a soft kiss on them, barely giving your eyes the time to flutter shut. His mouth continued to hover over yours as your hands instinctively grabbed onto his hips and the waistband of his jeans, hooking two fingers in it as you pressed yourself against him further.
"Oh, you did", he almost cooes and it filled you with such lewd shame that you would've turned away if it wasn't for his hands holding you in place, making you look at him. He kisses you again and that's when you felt it, the slight rocking of his hips.
You sigh into his mouth, the friction far too delicious to scold him for teasing you. There’s something deeply pleased in the way his lips curve before he pulls back just enough to look at you.
"You know", he murmurs, one hand leaving your cheek to wander to the ribbon tied across your chest. He rubs the silky fabric between his thumb and pointer, toying with it slightly.
Your eyes follow his every move. "This seems unnecessary to me, seeing as I had a clear view of what's underneath from the stage", he murmurs and you immediately look up at him through your lashes.
“Think we should get rid of it”, he adds quietly and gives the bow a careful tug, the knot loosening with almost insulting ease. The blouse slips open across your chest, fabric falling apart enough to reveal what had been distracting him all night.
A white lace bra, that looked far too innocent for the thoughts he was having. And for once, he's the one who lets his intrusive thoughts win, by dipping his head and letting his mouth wander across your chest.
You buck into him the moment you felt his hot breath on your skin and he's quick to pull you even closer, supporting you with his hands around your waist as yours wander around his neck, tangling in his hair.
His tongue brushes over the strip of skin the lace doesn’t quite cover, slow enough to pull a soft gasp from you before you can stop it. He leaves behind a wet trail as he sucks on the skin gently and without thinking, you press yourself closer against him, your hands tightening in his hair as though it’s the only thing keeping you steady.
Joe makes a quiet sound against your skin that almost resembles approval. And the worst part is how pleased with himself he looks when he finally lifts his head again, locking eyes with you.
“You were so determined to lecture me five minutes ago”, he says quietly, his nose brushing against one of your boobs, before pressing another lingering kiss there. “Now look at you”
You try to glare at him for it, but it completely falls apart when one of his hands slips underneath the smooth fabric of your blouse and grabs at your clothed chest, giving it a good squeeze.
Some distant part of your brain briefly remembers where you are. In his dressing room, at a venue that was pretty much still buzzing around you with people leaving, or lingering, hoping for a glimpse of him outside, where the rest of the band was surely mingling. His crew was probably still packing up the equipment and instruments too.
You should care more about that than you currently do, the way someone could barge in at any moment, because you didn't hear Joe lock the door.
You should probably stop this before it gets worse.
Instead, all you can focus on is his hand on your boob, the way he squeezes it like he had every right to— granted, he sort of did— and his expression somewhere between amused and completely gone over you.
He doesn’t seem concerned either, not even remotely. If anything, he looks entirely comfortable here, like he’s already decided the rest of the world can wait.
You surge forward before you can think better of it, grabbing at the front of his shirt and pulling him into you hard enough that he stumbles half a step before catching himself with a startled laugh against your mouth.
And then he’s kissing you back just as intensely. There’s nothing careful about it.
No slow buildup anymore, no teasing pauses or smug little comments to hide behind. It’s messy almost immediately, mouths crashing together with the kind of desperation that only comes after hours of tension neither of you even actively provoked.
Joe groans against your mouth as your fingers tangle into his damp hair again. “Jesus”, he mutters against your lips at one point, half laughing and half processing, like he’s only realizing now how badly this spiraled.
It's you who nudges him back against the vanity.
Your palms slide over his shoulders slowly, feeling the lingering tension in them beneath the fabric of his shirt, before drifting lower across his chest. He watches every movement closely, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that only deepens the further your hands wander.
And then you lower yourself. The movement alone seems to short-circuit him for a second.
Your knees nearly buckle on their own as you sink down in front of him, your skirt riding higher against your thighs while your hands steady themselves against his hips. Joe’s gaze follows you the entire way down, unwavering, like he physically cannot look anywhere else.
He doesn’t even breathe properly at this point.
Not until a shuddering little laugh leaves him, soft and disbelieving, his head tipping back for the briefest second before he looks at you again.
“Baby”, he murmurs, voice rough as if he meant to warn you not to continue, but he makes no actual move to stop you. All common sense down the drain.
If anything, his hands find the edge of the vanity behind him like he suddenly needs something solid to hold onto while he watches you look up at him like that, flushed and slightly breathless yourself, clearly just as affected by this as he is.
You unbutton his jeans slowly, not before palming him through the dark denim first. He was hard, you could tell beforehand, but feeling him beneath your hand gave you much more understanding as to why rubbing himself against the mic stand wasn't all just for show.
And you grin, because as much as he loved to tease you, he was just as affected by you as you are by him.
He seemed relieved when you finally pulled the denim down along with his briefs, lifting his hips away from the vanity to help you out. You didn't waste time, immediately welcoming his length into your mouth, where his pre-cum mixed with your saliva.
A rough curse slipped from his lips, his head falling back against the mirror as his composure cracked almost embarrassingly fast. "Fuck", he drawls out, refraining from bucking his hips and startling you. It was difficult.
You wanted to chuckle, you simply couldn't. Instead, you let one of your hands wander, squeezing his thigh once, before you pull your mouth away and replace it with your hand for a short while.
Joe looked at you like you hung the moon and you technically hadn't even started properly.
"This good?", you ask, a rhetorical question you didn't need an answer for. Joe replied anyway. "You know it", he breathed out, almost whining as your mouth took care of his tip again, flattening your tongue in a way you knew he loved.
For all the things his fans hyper analysed about him, this was something they'd never able to anticipate, not even a little.
Soon enough one of his hands lifted to hold the back of your head. He never forced you on him, he wouldn't even dream of ever doing that to you unless you'd explicitly ask him too, which you'd do sometimes.
His hand cradled, tightened and loosened in your hair in a steady rhythm, a motion almost familiar to you, even if you never really had the chance to truly focus on it.
You took as much of him in as you could without actually choking, because if there's one thing you hated about sex, it's gagging and the assumption that you needed to prove your worth by straining yourself just to pleasure a partner. Neither of you were particularly fond of it.
Joe kept moaning and exhaling roughly, letting out sounds that made you want to continue for hours on end. Your hand worked the base, as you kept bobbing your head. Then, you looked at him, gazing up through your lashes and your eyes met almost accidentally.
"Jesus fuck", he cursed under his breath, the vanity behind him creaking as he pushed against it roughly, his knuckles whitening against the used wood. He needed to hold onto something other than your head, but he momentarily let go of the furniture behind him to brush his hair back from his forehead.
"You're doing so good", he continued to praise you and the pressure kept building until he pulled you off of him, slightly apologetic but determined.
You were about to protest, but before the words can properly leave your mouth, Joe turns you around and lifts you up onto the vanity in one smooth motion, the sudden movement pulling a surprised gasp from you at the cool lacquered wood underneath you. Your skirt has ridden up completely, bunched around your hips and leaving you feeling far more exposed than you were a second ago.
The second his eyes dropped down to the soaked panties you were wearing, a silky fabric that matched your bra, now damp with your arousal, Joe let out a deep, guttural groan.
"Joe", you whine, pulling him in by the neck and he stepped closer immediately, your legs opening up wider now that your skirt wasn't restricting you anymore. He stroked himself a few times, still slick from your drool.
"God baby, you look far too good right now", he murmurs, his free hand now fumbling with the soft fabric between your thighs, rubbing against the dampness of it and groaning.
You whine in response.
Usually, he'd take his time, fingering you, exploring what's already been explored by him dozens of times but never lessens the pleasure. Tonight, though, the need to have him close outweighed every sensible thought in your head, even the fact that someone could walk in at any moment and ruin whatever this had suddenly turned into.
You weren't gonna waste time and Joe seemingly agreed by pulling your panties aside greedily.
When he pushed into you, your back arched before you could stop it, your head tipping back and your hair spilling all over your shoulders. The reaction itself was a glorious sight to Joe and instead of easing up, he only pressed himself closer, arms tightening around you like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch of distance between you now that he finally had you like this.
He didn't think twice before his hand grabbed at your chest again, pulling your bra down enough for one of your boobs to spill out, the sight he'd imagined the entire night. His mouth latched onto your nipple, toying with it gently.
Another soft, breathless moan escaped you at the sight of him like this, completely shameless, like he’s forgotten the rest of the world exists now that he had you right in front of him.
His thrusts were deep, but not rushed. He took his time with each one, no matter the circumstances, like he’s far more interested in the way you react to him, in the feeling of having you this close, than in chasing any sort of high.
And then your eyes met, almost accidentally, both of you dazed enough that neither looked away this time. Joe had always loved watching you, loved the little things most people would miss, the way your lips parted on shaky breaths, or the micro expressions that showed off what words couldn't and especially the soft sounds slipping out that seemed to affect him more every second.
You couldn’t stop looking at him either, at the way his brows pulled together, the tension in his jaw, the way his forearms flexed every time he moved, like he was trying so hard to hold himself together and failing beautifully at it.
“I love you”, he breathes out suddenly, the words slipping from him with a sincerity that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment and everything to do with the way he’s looking at you, the way he always looks at you. You return it just as earnestly, the confession barely making it past your lips before he’s kissing you again.
It’s messy and breathless, all clashing mouths and uneven exhales, neither of you quite managing to slow down enough to do it properly. Even then, through all of it, Joe’s focus never truly leaves you.
Eventually he slows slightly, just enough to pay attention to every reaction, every shift in your breathing, because your release has to always come before his. Always. That's his one rule.
By now he knows you too well not to recognize the signs and the change in his movements comes at exactly the right moment. The pleasure washes over you hard enough to pull a broken sound from your throat, your body tightening instinctively as he watches you come apart with an expression that borders on reverent.
Joe practically worships you through it, his gaze fixed on your face while he keeps moving slowly, enough for you to feel every last second of it. One particular roll of his hips makes you clench around him one last time and that sensation, the way you pull him in further, sends a sharp jolt through him.
His own climax was approaching quickly and as he tries to pull out, your leg wraps around him at the last second, keeping him close. The sudden restriction makes him hiss, his hips bucking further into you on instinct as his forehead drops against your shoulder with a chopped groan.
"Fuck, baby", he trails off and you feel his breath against your shoulder, coming out in short huffs. You stay that way for a few moments, both of you coming down from your highs.
When Joe finally pulls back enough to look at you properly, he’s met with the sight of your tired eyes and the brightest grin you can manage in your completely dazed state. You lean forward instinctively, aiming a soft kiss toward the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t let you pull away again. Instead, he follows after you immediately, kissing you properly this time, slow and thorough, like he can’t quite get enough yet even after everything.
“That was…”, you breathe out once he finally gives you a second to think, though the words completely fail you halfway through. Your gaze drops instinctively, taking in the state of both of you, still intertwined, still a tangled mess.
Neither of you is dressed properly anymore, shirts shoved aside in favor of convenience, hair ruined beyond saving, flushed skin and blown pupils making the whole thing look even more indecent than it already was.
And somehow, it’s hard to look away.
When he finally pulls out, the wet sound that follows fills the quiet room immediately, embarrassing enough that in any other situation you probably would’ve hidden your face on instinct.
But then Joe looks back up at you and the expression on his face makes something in your stomach twitch all over again, because it confirms what you’ve always known.
Joe is absolutely filthy.
dedicated to @jorkingtodjo lmao
I SUCK at writing smut, I'd much rather suck on something else :///
⋆˙⟡♡ King Doll ♡ ⟡ ⋆˙ @iheartdoll - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
