As my header states, I'm too old for this. But here I am anyway. If you're here you're gonna watch me embarrassingly lust over every version of Steve Harrington (who am I kidding, just Joe Keery in general) and while I mostly just react to other people's tremendously talented work, I occasionally dabble myself.
So if you are lurking, enjoy and leave some kisses 💋
Burning Through the Pages (Long One Shot) 🔥😩 18+ - Professor!Steve x Professor!Reader
Summary: Steve Harrington never planned to be a college professor, but somehow, a decade after Hawkins, he’s got tenure, too many girls in the front row, and a well-worn reputation as the guy everyone secretly signs up for. He’s charming, infuriating, and cruising comfortably through faculty meetings—until you show up. The newest hire in the Education Department. Sharp-tongued, no-nonsense, and utterly unimpressed by his smirk It’s enemies to lovers. It’s “fuck you” with feeling. It’s hot copy rooms, faculty fanfic, and a battle of wills that leaves them both undone.
Epilogue || Bonus Features
------------------
Get Off (Series) 🔥18+ - SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC (7/9)
Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, within hours of arriving to the city, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved. Act 4 - Out Now :)
King of Wishful Thinking (Series) ❤️ Fluffy but eventually 🔥 18+ and marked as such because I'm a hoe - Steve Harrington x Reader (2/?)
Summary: Steve has been in love with you for his entire life. He has always wanted to express his feelings and do nice things for you, but every time he tries to come up with new and creative ways to show you how much he cares, but it seems like fate is always against him. Even though he shallowly convinces himself that you’re just meant to be friends and despite these setbacks, Steve remains determined to keep trying. He still holds onto the hope that someday he'll be able to express his feelings to you and maybe, just maybe have them reciprocated. Paused but not forgotten
1974 || 1978 || 1980 (coming soon)
Joe Keery Photo Drop Support Group A place to gather when he sends us into a tizzy. This support group was started in response to the Behind the Blinds Photo Drops but can and will be revisited anytime this man rocks our world like that again....All are welcome. Judgement Free-zone. Cake ALWAYS served.
Birthday Cake Train 🍰 A communal space to celebrate birthdays and serve up a slice of Cake....you know which kind. Join the thread when it's your turn. There's enough to go around.
Seeing Stars 🔥18+ The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.
A Girl Like You (PT 2 to Seeing Stars) 🔥18+ In the aftermath of the 4th, embarrassment and emotions are flying, tables turn and shit gets figured out. Read Part 1 to see how exactly we got here.
Deeper for You 🔥18+ It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.
Jealous Friend One Shot 🔥18+ ask Watching your friend, Steve Harrington, go on Kamakazi Mission dates over and over again was getting kind of old. You’re always there to listen, comfort and pick up the pieces but what if this time it’s just too much? What if this time you’ve had enough and something that feels a little bit like jealousy rears its ugly head?
Firefighter!Steve One Shot
Taking Care of Steve (Road Head) Blurb 🔥18+ ask
Vampy Steve Blurb ask
Fool in Love Blurb (King of Wishful Thinking inspo) ❤️
Stevie Takes Care of You When You're Sick Blurb ❤️ ask
Joe Keery as Steve Harrington Micro expressions
Steve Harrington Smells Like head cannons 🚨
Cozy Cardigan Steve (Joe Keery Dork Mag inspo) ❤️
Steve Has No Favorite Song Blurb 🚨
Ok maybe I'm being overdramatic, but please also consider reading these fics or series I feel like I'd lay down my life for because they have become a visceral part of me and changed the fabric of my being and I think about them all the time. They are all *chefs kiss* and written by amazingly talented people who also have deep Masterlists that also deliver. So wake the fuck up and read em! Again, most (okay fine, all) are 🔥 18+ ...again, because I'm a hoe
Into Open Flames 🔥😩🚨 on AO3
Midnight City 🔥 by @superblysubpar
We'll Call it Love 🔥😩 by @superblysubpar
If Tomorrow Never Comes 🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean
All I Really Want is You ❤️🔥 by @loveshotzz
Whatta Man (Steve's Night) 🔥 by @loveshotzz
New Years Eve (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩 by @loveshotzz
Beyond 🔥 by @abibliophobiaa
We Tried the World 🔥😩 @upsidedownwithsteve
And I Snuck in Through the Garden Gate ❤️🔥 @upsidedownwithsteve
Don't Call Me Baby 🔥😩 by @katyswrites
Aftermath (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean
Daisy 🔥 by @thyme-in-a-bubble
PSA: Don't steal my shit. Don't repost my shit. Don't steal other peoples shit. Don't use AI. Don't feed my shit into AI. Don't feed other people's shit into AI. Just come here, read about this sweet piece of a man and live on our fantasy island together in lust and in peace.
PPSA: I - as a fic reader, writer and a grown professional in academia - use the em dash in my natural writing style regularly and have done so for all of the time I've produced written content. Also a friendly reminder that AI was trained by feeding free Internet content and fics into it so it LEARNED from people like us who are old and have been doing fandom shit for too long.
Blah blah....Robin hires an etsy witch for something very Robin-esque. Blah blah....Steve gets curious. Peruses the etsy page and of COURSE he can't ignore the soulmate portrait for sale. Lets the screen sit open for 5 whole days - thinks about it NON STOP until he can't take it anymore, pulls his amex out by his teeth and orders one. Hopeless. Blah blah...Steve 100% locks in on finding you. Steve 100% jerks off to your soulmate portrait and Robin ROASTS him for it. Steve 100% gets so mad he can't find you that he becomes staunchly opposed to etsy witch subculture and goes into a diatrabe about internet scams so often Robin can mime the speech. Meanwhile you're unpacking a box in your new house, giggling on the phone with your friend from back east telling her all about the man in the portrait you ordered from an etsy witch. Blah blah later at dinner your son tugs at the portrait on the table and says "Why do you have a drawing of my new baseball coach?"
How to Become Someone's Muse (For all the Wrong Reasons)
Steve Harrington would like you to check out his website!
steve harrington x reader fanfiction | rockstar! steve | 90s AU | no upside down | how to lose a guy in 10 days AU | rom-com | fluff | mutual lying | eventual smut | happy ending
summary: the guys at The Foxy Lounge can’t seem to keep their hands off of you, and Steve doesn’t like that very much.
wc: 1.7k
warnings: 18+ 90’s AU, jealous steve, thigh riding in a public bathroom, dirty talk, a little condescending and a little sweet kinda steve, a dash of praise kink.
authors note: my favorite bouncer is back! this one shot is for my Whatta Man universe but you don’t need to read it to enjoy it. Just know he’s your boyfriend that works at the bar underneath your apartment.
Pink tinted lights in The Foxy Lounge bathroom illuminate the band sticker covered walls that match the metal doors of the stalls. Next’s Too Close comes out muffled from behind the door as you step in front of the smudged mirror. You pull out the shimmery lipgloss that drives your boyfriend wild from its hiding place tucked into your bra reapplying it with a smack of your lips.
The blush colored gloss Steve can’t get enough of seems to have a similar effect on the rest of the men in the bar tonight. You’d turned down at least four different offers of drinks, feeling the intense heat of your boyfriends stare the entire time. The sleeves of his black shirt tightened over his biceps from the hard cross of his arms, and you had been pretty sure he was going to snap the tooth pick in his mouth in half with the clench of his sharp jaw.
Too busy for him to leave the door, he had no other choice but to watch every subtle touch of your elbow and hand splayed across the small of your back. His own balling into fists every time someone bent down to ask what you’re drinking lowly in your ear.
It would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying it a little bit.
You fiddle with your hair, trying to fix it the way you had at the start of the night before the heat of the crowded bar got to it. Blowing out defeated breath through your nose it becomes glaringly obvious it’s a fruitless effort. You get ready to head back out with a promise to spend the rest of the night at the front with him just for the bathroom door to open in a loud burst of music. It makes you jump, eyes landing on your boyfriend's reflection.
”There you fuckin’ are.” Steve huffs, shutting it behind him with a flick of the lock.
”What are you doing?” You ask, turning around with an arch of your brow.
The sight you’re greeted with has your teeth dig into the sheen of your glossed bottom lip, and his dark eyes watch the movement.
“Looking for you.” He says, a clipped edge to his tone running a hand through his auburn hair that's lost all the gel keeping it in place.
”Don’t you have to be watching the door?”
Your question comes out quieter than intended as his heavy boots thud against the tiled floor. The look on his face is reminiscent of a lion about to catch its prey with the way he stalks towards you. Your thighs search for each other underneath your skirt, watching the way his eyes unabashedly roam your curves readjusting himself in the dark denim of his jeans.
“No, this is more important.”
He shakes his head sternly, stopping right in front of you, cinnamon from his gum and the musk of his sweat invading your senses. Tilting your head up with a curved finger under your chin, he holds your glazed over gaze with his own.
“Apparently I need to remind everyone in here that you’re mine.”
The click of his tongue on the roof of his mouth has want tighten in your throat, heat flooding between your legs as his big hand splays across your cheek. His thumb presses into your chin, keeping you there.
“I think they know.” You whimper, when he tilts your head to the side, plush pink lips starting a messy trail up your exposed neck.
His tongue pokes out, collecting the sweat dripping off your skin, groaning at the taste, before stopping at the sensitive spot behind your ear. He relishes in the way your body shivers against him because of it.
“I think they need a reminder.” He whispers, earning him the kind of moan he was looking for.
He takes your ear lobe into the wet heat of his mouth, sucking hard enough for your eyes to roll back letting it go with a pop, before collecting your mouth in a hungry kiss.
You gasp into it, red polished fingers weaving into the thickness of his hair tugging at the roots to pull him closer. He grunts, trying to swallow you whole, licking into your mouth in a mix of Big Red and mint. Pulling away he grabs your face, just rough enough for your hips to roll searching for his. He admires the blown out desperation in your eyes, already having you right where he wants you.
”You’re too pretty for your own good.” He says with a swipe of his thumb against your bottom lip, tugging it down and watching it pop into place.
”Wanted to look good for you.”
It comes out around a whine that makes one side of his mouth tick up as he moves his thigh between your legs. Cooing words of encouragement when you sit on it too needy to play hard to get.
”I know you did.” He hums, his free hand finding your hip giving it a harsh squeeze despite the sweetness dripping from his voice. “So good to me, baby.”
”Steve.” You mewl as he starts to guide you over the rough denim, your skirt rucking up to your waist giving him a perfect view of the wet spot that darkens your panties.
”Yeah?” He breaths against your jaw, flexing his muscle when your clit catches on just the right spot to earn a loud whine.
”N- need more.Thought about you all day.”
Your admission makes him groan, twitching uncomfortably in the tight confines of his jeans moving you faster, helping the roll of your hips that search for the more you’re begging him for.
”I’m gonna give it to you, baby, don’t worry. Gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow, keep you in bed all day. Touch you. Taste you. Make you mine over and over again.” He says the last part through clenched teeth, nipping at your bottom lip. “You want that?”
All you can do is nod, your puffy lips parting enough over his thigh to have your bundle of nerves drag against him with the kind of pressure that threatens to unravel you.
”Yeah?” He tuts grabbing your face again, holding you in his pitch black eyes, pupils blown out almost animalisticly. “Tell me then.”
“Steve!” You gasp finding a spot on his thigh that sends stars dancing behind your eyelids.
The grip on your face loosens for just a moment, a shiver running down his spine. He fights his self control with every ounce of strength he has left, the hand on your hip tightening its hold, stopping you from chasing what you’re so close to having.
”Honey.” The endearment comes out condescending instead of sweet as he waits for your eyes to flutter open before continuing. “Do you wanna cum?”
”Please.” You look up with wide eyes trying to move your hips but he keeps you in place.
”Tell me then, tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me you’re mine”
His tone is stern, gaze flicking down to where you’ve left a wet patch on his jeans and you catch the way his eyes roll with a muttered ‘fuck.’
”Come on, don’t be shy. You weren’t being very shy just a few minutes ago were you?” He traces your pouty bottom lip with the pad of his thumb again before bending down hovering his mouth over yours. Holding you there, he lets you breathe him in, teasing you with more. “All you have to do is say it and I’ll be nice. So nice.”
“I want it, Steve, so bad. I need it, need you. I’m yours, don’t want anyone else.”
You should be ashamed of the way you babble, but when he practically growls against your mouth and starts guiding you at an even faster pace than before. You can’t bring yourself to care. Rocking your hips shamelessly to keep up with him, you collect his lips hard enough you think it might bruise.
“Good girl.” He smiles into the kiss, licking the bow of your top lip before pulling away. “I wanna watch you cum. Need something to think about to get me through the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”
Nodding eagerly, your hips falter when he flexes his muscle again, earning that loud moan he wanted from you. He thinks he can get it louder. His grip on you tightens, pulling you higher up on his thigh, your tip toes barely touching the ground.
”Oh my god.” You gasp at the new angle, fingers tugging tighter on the hair at the nape of his neck.
“That’s it, baby.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours, praise dripping in honey.
“I think I’m gonna -“
Words get lost at the tip of your tongue, that last roll of your hips pushing your panties to the side, exposing the most sensitive part of you.
”Uh oh.” Steve grins, pulling you over the denim agonizingly slow watching the way your eyes hit the back of your head.
All you can do is whimper, brows furrowing in the middle of your forehead that you press harder against his.
”Come on, do it.” He encourages against your lips, breathing you in. “I know you wanna give it to me.”
Your body shakes with everything you’re chasing, closing in on it with a final rock of your hips, catching it with a whisper to a scream of his name when you do it again falling apart all over his jeans.
”So pretty, so fucking perfect. Let me have it all.” He rambles, any semblance of control lost in the way your face contorts for him.
You chant his name like it’s the only word you know, and he basks in it, suddenly the guys on the other side of the door become inconsequential. Especially when you look up at him with big wide glassy eyes after coming down from your high, a satisfied smile lighting up your heated face.
”I think you jogged their memory.” You huff, scratching at his scalp tugging your bottom lip between your teeth at the way he leans into it.
”Maybe, we might need to leave your window open tonight. Gotta make sure, baby.”
The annoyed lines of his forehead from earlier are smoothed out now, and he knows he’s covered in the glitter from your gloss but doesn’t care. Taking your hand walking out of the bathroom, he’s sure the entire bar knows your Harrington’s girl now.
Firefighter!Steve always volunteers to run career days, field trips, and family events at his firehouse. He loves planning fun events for the kids so they can “see what it feels like to be a firefighter”. When a kid tells him they want to be a firefighter when they grow up, Steve’s face lights up and he always tells them to go for it. Steve keeps a pack of firefighter badge stickers in his pocket throughout the visit so he can hand them directly to every kid.
Your class is excited when you tell them their next field trip is to the local fire station. Keeping the class under control while they’re buzzing with energy and running around a firehouse isn’t your ideal day, but you’ve heard how much fun other classes had, so you give it a try for the sake of your students. You’re not expecting to see a very attractive firefighter standing at the entrance to the station and high fiving all your students as they walk in. He introduces himself to you and the kids, then puts a firefighter helmet on your head, which makes your class laugh.
Steve finds a way to pull you into every activity he runs and stands by you during the fire captain’s presentation. He asks you questions about your life, not so subtly slipping in one about your relationship status. Steve’s started talking about a new restaurant in the area “that’s supposed to be nice” by the time your class comes running back over to him. They’re begging him to spray the hose, and after a couple minutes, he agrees. His captain isn’t pleased but lets Steve spray the hose onto the driveway for a minute. The kids cheer and jump around like it’s the most exciting thing they’ve ever seen.
At the end of the day, Steve hands out stickers and goodie bags. He also lets some of your students try on his turn out coat and helmet or climb into the fire truck. Before you get on the bus, Steve stops you and gives you his number, “just in case your class wants to come back or has any questions”. You call him that night to thank him for everything, and he immediately asks you out to dinner.
Watching your friend, Steve Harrington, go on Kamakazi Mission dates over and over again was getting kind of old. You're always there to listen, comfort and pick up the pieces but what if this time it's just too much? What if this time you've had enough and something that feels a little bit like jealousy rears its ugly head?
Just a wee one-shot after someone (🧱) had to come in my inbox and talk about being jealous and defensive about Stevie instead of the other way around.
—
Steve's an honest to god, good fucking guy, so it should be no surprise to you when you find out he gave Heather a ride home after her car broke down outside of Family Video. He doesn't even do it for the praise - not anymore at least - which makes it all the more infuriating.
Watching her jump out of his car. You roll your eyes at how she maneuvers just the right way so that her hair literally bounces when she giggles. The way she has her arms crossed in front of her, hands clasped - innocent enough - but you clock how she bats her eyes a little more than necessary and how her arms dig into her sides, pressing her tits up just a little more out of her dress than before.
It's enough to gag.
He sees you staring, eyes locked on her all the way from his driveway. Gives you a wave from across the street and you wave back. Can you wave sarcastically? If it's possible, you just did it. Giving him a thumbs up, he narrows his eyes at you before turning to go inside his house.
Later at the house party you find yourself at that night, you're 3 beers in when you stumble into the kitchen. She's there hanging all over him. Trying hard to get him to cash in on a thank you for that favor earlier. Steve's not leaning into her, but he's not pulling away either. He's holding back, but the look on his face is hopeful and the smile on his lips is actually goddamn genuine.
You know he's been on endless dates lately, trying to find one girl that'll be enough, stick around for at least a few dates, be interested in more than just a fuck. He recounts every one of them for you and Robin in excruciating detail. And then lingers and festers in the details of how it went wrong for twice as long. Self deprecating commentary that is nowhere near the truth and you can't bear to hear one more time will bring up the rear.
So Heather fawning all over him tonight because he carted her off in his chariot in her moment of need sounded just about right. As did the slug trail of his broken, bleeding, lovelorn heart that was bound to show up after she stopped calling, was always busy, or just flat out told him she was done with him. Whichever it was gonna be this time, you already saw the writing on the wall.
You're quick to move to the counter, right next to where they stand, and slam down a shot glass, filling it to the brim with whatever amber liquid you reached for first. When Steve reaches out to make sure you're okay.. suggest you slow down even, he touches your hand to stop you and you're taken aback by the shudder that runs up your body at his touch. You look at him, and then over to her and all you snap out is some comment about how you're just pre-medicating. When this blows up in your face I want to be ready. You gesture between the pair.
You're not sure why you're being so mean today. Sure you're sick of the same old song and dance with him, but today you're angry about it and that's…new. She doesn't even notice your little outburst, fingers aimlessly toying with the tufts of hair brushing his neck while she stares off into the distance of the party. Steve, however, notices and is left to wonder why you're being such a bitch about it tonight. Wonders if your problem was with him… or Heather.
Another hour later you're leaning against the brick of the house out back, hot cigarette held between your fingers, smoke billowing in the air around you. The sickly sweet sounds of a giggle coming from between the hydrangeas caught your ear. A giggle straight from the mouth of that blonde haired bimbo you could pinpoint from a mile away. It sucker punched you in the gut knowing how this was going to all go, and the disgusting slurping sounds of her tongue down Steve Harrington's throat just a few feet away made your eyes roll.
Here we go.
Making sure you loudly push through the opening in the bushes, full with browning gloves of delicate petals, you scoff at the sight of the back of Heather's head, lips now tucked into the crook of his neck.
Jason's neck.
Not Steve's.
There's absolutely no reason for you to do what you do next. Not one that makes logical sense, really. Because you open your mouth and can not help but tell Heather where to stick it. You call her a few names, some of them not very pretty, before turning on your heel and swinging the sliding door open to go back inside.
Your mild annoyance with Heather's antics is suddenly festering into a blind, boiling rage, which made the fact that she decided to follow you a really, really bad one.
What is your problem? She asks me.
And at first you don't know what it is. Sure she's acting like a sloppy girl throwing herself on Steve…or apparently anyone who might just fuck her even more stupid than she already is. But she's not the first girl you know to act like that. Not the first or the last Hawkins Hot Shot who thinks they're too pretty for this hometown.
But then the words spew out and it's pretty clear why there's a fire lit inside you. Each step closer you get to Heather you're giving her hell.
My problem? What's yours? I'm so damn sick and tired of girls like you acting like this.
Girls like me? What does that mean, huh?
Yeah, like what? You wonder to yourself.
Like Steve is some fucking goddamn pet that you can lead around on a leash. Pet when you want something. Tie up when you don't.
Oh.
You're just another one of these stupid fucking girls. It's disgusting how you treat him. Disgusting, you know that?
You continue on with a drunken dissertation about how Steve Harrington deserves more than these stupid vapid girls and how not one of them deserved him.
There's a small crowd growing, drawn to your loud voice and colorful language. And she's clearly tired of the show. Never really caring all that much about Steve, more about the hookup, now that she's got Jason in her grip Steve is an afterthought.
Until he's standing right in front of her.
Heather. He says. Big brown doe eyes looking sad and disappointed… again. Makes your gut fucking churn.
Pushing your way through the crowded living room you're out the front door before you know it, not wanting to stick around to hear whatever she had to say to him. You didn’t want to watch his face fall and realize it’s over before it even started
Leaning against the first car you see, you tisk your tongue as you realize that the one you landed on was his. Has to be, doesn't it?
There's an odd silence there.The thick sounds of the music muffled by the walls of the house are there, but you pay them no mind. There’s squeals and drunk laughter and chanting, but they all feel so distant. It’s a silence that doesn’t actually exist. One you created. But then, what does crack through your bubble - the thing that breaks the silence…
What you said… did you mean that?
You don't even look up. You nod your head. You explain that you're sick of it. Sick of hearing about all of these girls walking all over the nicest guy you know. Sick of the games they play. Sick. You didn’t look up from your shoes once.
It's fine. Really. I deserve it. I used to be no better than them.
Shut the fuck up, already! Don't you say that.
Maybe. Maybe that's true. You demand that he stop beating himself up. Punishing himself for something - someone - who's been dead and long gone for years. You tell him how you can't stand these girls making a mockery of him when he's genuinely trying. Tell him how you're gonna fuck up the next one that thinks it's all a game.
Shit. Well .. thats …
What? Confusion clouds your brain. Not sure what he's trying to say.
Steve. I just don't want anything to hurt you. Not a demodog… or a stupid girl. It's always the same and I'm sick of seeing you think you deserve it. Like, sometimes I think you fuckin do this on purpose to yourself.
What do I deserve then, huh? What am I supposed to do? Because I don’t fuckin' know.
Steve…just stop it. You scoff.
Gravel is kicked up behind you and the footsteps you hear are drawing closer to you, a smarmy and whiney voice comes out to greet you Well well well, thanks for that show in there.
Jason, I swear to God, you need to keep it moving. Fists curling at your sides without a thought.
Didn’t know you got this little thing to fight your battles for you now, Harrington. Real cute. Total fall from grace, huh?
You’re on him quicker than he knows what to do. The last thing he expected was for you to wind up and clock him dead in the face. Jason falls backwards a few steps stumbling as he grabs at his face, covering the tender spot where you knocked him, the left side of his nose and just below the eye. He's not bleeding, per say. But you take note of the deep purple stain already pooling in the dip of his eye socket, so you know that mother fucker is gonna feel it for weeks.
He doesn't need me to fight his battles, Jason. You say his name dripping with sarcasm.
Then why'd ya punch me, you bitch? Sure looks like it.
You hear him step forward. You just know the tense look in Steve's face and the way his jaw is set and clenched without even turning around. You know the blind rage he gets when he feels like he needs to defend one of his friends - someone he cares about. You're certain the muscles in his lips are ticking and twitching with anger. And you don't have time for his theatrics tonight. You've had enough of it already, so you reach your hand out and backwards, stopping him by his chest so he stops his advance.
Instead you step forward. Not scared in the least of Jason fuckin' Carver and his buttercup yellow polo shirt. You smirk as you see a drop of crimson blood has fallen from the tip of his nose and onto its front, just knowing how he's going to have to ask his Mommy to get the stain out for him.
I punched you because you're annoying me. Your face is stupid, you talk too much and you don't know when to mind your own goddamn business. Where's Heather anyway? You two are perfect for one another.
You turn on your heels and walk to the other side of Steve's car, leaning against the side and not looking back at Jason and his idiot stuck up friends as they stumble down the neighborhood road away from the party.
Steve comes around the back of the car, looking at you. He hasn't said a word, so that's been great. Probably thinks you're certified insane tonight with the way things are going.
Steve, I'm good. Jason is clearly not an issue anymore. You should go find Heather -
But you're cut off before you can finish, because in a few long strides he's in front of you, grabbing at your shoulders to bring your eyes up to his. Telling you how it's hot when you defend his honor. 6. Talking about how hot it was when you were looking at him all jealous of another girl's attention and affection. About how he never noticed it before but now it makes so much sense.
I don't do that. I didn't -
Now it's his turn to scoff.
You ask him what's so funny? And he literally doesn't answer you, just laughs some more with a shake of his head. Eyes roaming around your surroundings. He hasn't moved away from where he's standing in front of you. Somehow HE looks annoyed with YOU now and you're ready to pick a fight about it.
Instead, all of the air is stolen from your lungs when Steve Harrington leans down and crashes his lips onto yours.
What was that for? You shove him back a little, but his feet are planted and he doesn't budge.
The smile turning up the corner of his lips is irritating. Irritating because you don't know why he's smiling, but doubly so because it is really fucking cute. Oh nothing, just wanted to show my girl how much I appreciate her.
Your girl? Steve, you are sorely mistaken. Did you hit your head? Heather is -.
Honey. Stop. Let's not do this.
He argues with you. Tells you how it all makes so much sense. About how none of the girls are you, so of course they didn't work. About how of course you're frustrated and feel protective. About how those dagger eyes you were wielding all night were, in fact, jealousy. Because you both feel the same way and neither was smart enough to notice.
I'm done with Heather, honey. I'm done with all the Heathers. He waves his hand at the house party, still booming with noise and energy, but only focused on you.
The feverous press of his lips back on yours happens before you can even process what he's said. Pressed against the side of his car, his hands quickly slide up your side, finding a warm and comfortable home under the hem of your sweater. Cold fingertips dancing up your sides, thumbs squeezing where it's soft and dips into your tummy, knee sliding between your legs all in one smooth motion.
He pulls his lips away to look at you, both of you panting deep breaths, chests rising and falling and eyes darting around one another's faces, trying to process what's unfolding for you both right now.
Sorry.
He huffs out an apology. Says he shouldn't have. Says he wasn't thinking. Says he's never thinking straight. Goes to pull away.
You grab his wrist as he tries to retreat.
They're all fuckin' stupid. Steve, they're all stupid. I've been telling you every time. Every single goddamn time.
He looks back at you, still unsure. Eyes a little sad - wavering. Guard down further than you've seen it in years.
And if any one of them got their head out of their asses, they'd have been so fuckin' lucky.
He goes to speak before you stop him - Don't. Don't say it. Don't do that bullshit again. Just …
Back against the side of the BMW he's pressed into you tightly. Hands wrapped around your hips, fingertips digging into the denim covering your ass as he squeezes. It really was like… the hottest fuckin' thing to watch you punch Jason Carver… for me. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles where they're sure to be sore tomorrow.
Can I say thank you?
He asks you with pleading eyes. You ask him Didn't you just say it? He shakes his head. Tells you that's not how he wants to say it. Tells you that's not what he means. That he wants to show you instead.
And once you nod your head at him, theres no time for anything. No time for thinking, moving, rational decision making. Because you're just there, in between Steve's car and some janky van parked next to it, as he's tugging at your button, crooking his fingers in your belt loops, making it just so he can slide his hand inside your underwear and maneuver his fingers to your core.
He's so fuckin' gentle it makes your head spin. Featherlight touches around you, gently playing with the folds and petals of your lips, a slippery waltz on and around your clit, dancing with his fingertip. Eyelashes fluttering with your head tilted back and resting on his car door, unable to formulate words or phrases or noises - rendered utterly frozen and useless..
What stupid fucking assholes. Those girls took a pass on this? On this boy who just wants someone to be with. On all this care, and attention and - oh my God.
You're pulled from your blissful thoughts by a deep pressure, a fullness you didn't expect from Steve's long and thick fingers entering you briskly. Mouth open and gasping at the twist and turns of them until he finds a spot that makes you twitch, a spot he likes. A juxtaposition to those gentle caresses, he's driving his fingers deep into your pussy now, reaching and rubbing.
Still soft and careful but deep and forefull. He's not driving his fingers into you like the last guy who used his hand like a jackhammer. No, Steve is caressing your pussy and following through with a deep roll of his fingers on the upswing. Pushing back, pushing upwards, making your hips buck up towards him uncontrollably. You cry out when he scissors his fingers just a bit and then follows up with the quick addition of a third finger.
As abruptly as he's inside, he's back out again, rubbing and circling over you with his four, flat fingers, satisfying pressure on your clit making you forget about how you missed them being inside you for just a moment.
Shit, Steve…I- someone's gonna see.
Let them. Fuck… let them. I hope they do. Then they'll know.
Slipping those fingers right back inside, slick and squelching, toying with you, making you suck all of the air out of the world around you, he brings himself right next to your ear, pressed up against you. Cheek to cheek. You feel the muscles on his forearm tensing and flexing as he pumps into you ruthlessly. White hot pleasure swirling deep in your stomach, staccato breaths brushing past his ear, eyes squeezed shut your orgasm ripples through your body - tummy to toes, tingling running up your spine and back down again as you exhale from a breath you didn't know you were holding.
He hasn't pulled away yet. Hadn't looked at you. Fingers still inside, palm pressed up against the car just beside your face as he whispers They'll know I'm done with them now. Cause I've always had you.
summary: Steve comes home early from a long work trip, surprising you in the middle of a sleepless night.
wc: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ age gap (Steve is in his 40’s), unprotected desperate p in v ‘i missed you’ smut, oral fem! receiving, a little bit of praise kink with a more than happy to oblige Steve per my incredible anons request.
authors note: Enjoy almost 5k of pretty much nothing but smut :) Thank you to the anon who sent me this request that I knew I immediately had to write. I missed our old man, and it looks like he missed us too. This takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue but you don’t have to read the series to enjoy. Just know you recently moved into your hot older boyfriend’s house.
Two weeks. Steve has been gone for two weeks.
It was a work trip that called him away. Richard needing him to follow the team around for a string of away games to help close a deal, just a month after finally moving in together. It’s the longest you’ve been apart since that first kiss on the fourth of July and it was starting to get concerning how much you missed him. The frequent phone calls and nightly FaceTimes just didn’t compare to the real thing.
You and Bandit lay in the living room cuddled on the oversized leather couch, wrapped up in your favorite blanket. The woven fabric trapping the faint smell of his cologne. Lightening flashes in the night sky outside the sliding glass door to the back yard. It illuminates the dark corners of the large space not lit by the warm glow of the candles laid around the cozy space. The low rumble of thunder behind it brings in the late night summer rain storm, prattling against the roof.
You absentmindedly play with Bandit’s oversized ear who’s snoring lightly on your lap. Leaning over to the side, you grab your ‘please help me sleep’ wine off the coffee table, taking a long sip from your glass. The warmth of it eases the excitement that’s buzzed all day of his promised return tomorrow. Your phone screen lights up with an e-mail notification, white digital numbers reminding you in bold that it's nearly three in the morning.
Bandit’s ears perk up before his head, a loud snore getting cut short turning into a low growl as he eyes the front door.
“What is it?” You whisper harshly, like he has the ability to answer, your gaze following his intense stare.
Low thumps come from the wooden steps, and Bandit’s growl turns into a short warning bark jumping off your lap. Ducking his head down, his pace towards the door is slow. Frantically, you search the living room for anything that could be a weapon, but all you can find is Steve’s cigar box sitting on the mantel.
Great.
Standing up, you wrap the blanket tight around your shoulders, deciding that running from whatever is on the porch is your best option. The silhouette of a man shadows across the stained glass on the front door, and Bandit starts sniffing wildly at the bottom of it. You still subconsciously start inching towards his cigar box, heart thumping wildly watching the German Shepherd’s ears perk up. Suddenly his protective demeanor turns playful, big paws tapping excitedly on the wood floors. The click of the deadbolt has his tail wagging even harder.
Steve.
The door pushes open with a quiet creak, revealing the broad frame of the man that every molecule in your body hasn’t stopped yearning for since the day you met him. You see his thick chestnut hair first as he ducks in, bending down to greet Bandit. Too distracted by his reunion with his furry best friend, he doesn’t notice you standing there as he scratches lovingly behind both of his big ears. He coos about how much he missed him, and you think you’ve reached a new low being jealous of a dog.
Steve’s hair is messy like he had fallen asleep on his flight and tried to tame it in the airport bathroom before getting caught in the rain. The notorious rogue strand falls across his forehead, salt and pepper stubble lining his sharp jaw. Your favorite.
Heat pools between your legs. It spreads across every inch of your skin engulfing you in flames because the simple black cotton undershirt he wears clings to his shoulders and parts of his chest where the rain had soaked through. The short sleeves of it fit tight around his biceps, his dress pants of the same color stretching over his thighs because of the way he’s squatting. The dark brown of his dress shoes shining from the storm. Only Steve could look this good after traveling all night.
You have no control of your sock-covered feet that start to pad across the wood floor towards him, like a magnet being drawn to an opposite end.
“Hey buddy, I know, I know.” Steve says softly, pressing a kiss to his whimpering dog's forehead before standing up to his full height finally shutting the door. Hearing the velvet honey of his voice in person for the first time in weeks makes your stomach swoop.
“What about me?” You ask shyly with a bite of your lip, revealing your presence leaning against the wooden frame of the doorway.
Steve’s gaze snaps in your direction, waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies that seem to always flutter around him. His eyes trail up your blanket covered body, darkening on where your teeth dig into where he wishes it was him before landing on your face.
“Honey.” He says his favorite endearment as if he’s been in the kind of agony that only you can ease. “You have no fucking idea.”
He leaves his bag at the door already forgotten, closing the distance between you so fast that you can barely comprehend it. Leaning back against the wall, you let the blanket fall to your feet helping him crowd your space. His big hands find your hips giving them a squeeze, before sliding his palms up your sides, catching the soft cotton of your sleep tank with them. Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him even closer, the warm cedar of his lingering cologne intoxicating you. The backs of his fingers trail softly along the sides of your soft biceps, goosebumps pebbling close behind.
“Steve,” You say his name a little desperate giving his damp hair at the nape of his neck a tug. “You’re not allowed to leave like that again.”
He huffs out a laugh at your pout, minty breath tickling your flushed cheeks as his palms land on either side of your head.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. I can’t even think about it.” He murmurs with a shake of his head. Ducking down he meets your eyes with the kind of smirk that makes your legs wobble.
“Good, I was having withdrawals.” You nudge the tip of his nose with yours grinning, heart thumping wildly in your chest.
“Tell me about it.” He hums in agreement, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, relishing in the way your back bows, body always searching for more.
You look up at him from under your lashes, eyes pleading to give you what you want. What you know you both want.
His lips ghost against yours with a gaze that stays trained on the lines of your face, memorizing it so the memory is fresh in his head again. The haziness of it by the end of his trip, pulling at the edges of his heart with a familiar feeling.
“Missed you so damn much, baby.” He whispers, eyebrows furrowing in the kind of need you can feel on his hot breath fanning against your skin.
”God — ” You whine, pulling yourself impossibly close feeling the way his heart beats against yours, thumping just as fast. “I hated every second of it, I need you here always.”
He groans at the confession, finally giving in with a hungry mouth that presses against yours in an outpouring of emotion. His hips roll in time with the begging way he licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your knee over his hip, you grant him access without any hesitation, eagerly meeting his next thrust.
The thin cotton of your shorts lets you feel every hard inch of him, snatching a moan from the back of your throat. Tugging his hair a little harsher, your tongues meet in the middle with an equal fever. A kiss so full of hunger it threatens to turn animalistic.
Steve grunts, a big hand curling around your knee keeping you right where he wants you, losing every ounce of his self control when you push your insatiable hips even harder against his.
“I need -“ He pants against your mouth pulling away to catch his breath, pressing his forehead against yours. Black eyes swallow you whole at how you whimper from the loss. “I need to taste you baby, god, I have to. I’ve thought about it so much. I can’t wait anymore.”
His words send another wave of arousal to your core, soaking through your thin shorts, body coming alive by his touch. He nips at your bottom lip, making his way down your neck with wet kisses to your collar bone. His tongue pokes out, tracing down the dip of your sternum between your breasts that he cups with both hands before mouthing at your nipples through the sheer fabric of your tank top. His groan vibrates deep from his when they pebble for him.
Steve drops to his knees, looking up at you from under the thick hood of his lashes, big hands squeezing your sides. He tugs playfully at the waist band of your shorts with his perfect teeth, relishing in the shy giggle he gets in return.
“Can I?” His question comes out in just above a whisper, fingers curling into your waist band. Heat flashing in his dark eyes at the nod you respond with.
He’s gentle pulling the flimsy cotton down your thighs, the tops of his knuckles tickling against your skin all the way to your ankles. You step out of them, smiling as he tosses the offending garment towards the living room. The hand that gripped your knee before slides up your calf, long fingers curving around it again to hook your leg over his shoulder. Completely opening you up.
”Steve.”
His name comes out in a sharp intake of breath, the back of your head thumping against the wall. Reaching down, your fingers tangle into his damp hair, teeth digging into the fat of your bottom lip.
”God, look at you honey.” He groans, jaw going slack at how you glisten on display for him like this. “You know how beautiful you are?”
Steve catches the way his words make you clench, a deep groan rumbling from his chest because of it. His big hand moves from your thigh to the round curve of your ass, squeezing roughly pulling what he wants most closer to his waiting mouth.
“Missed how you get when I’m sweet to you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, nipping at the sensitive flesh, smirking at the tug of his hair he gets in return.
“Missed everything about you.” You manage to get out, finding the strength to open your eyes and look down at him. The sight punches the air out of your lungs.
His dark gaze softens, the corners of his kiss bitten lips twitching nuzzling into the dough of your thigh with another kiss. The two of you stare at each other, chests heaving filling the silence with unspoken words that you can’t seem to find enough of to describe the feeling of finally being back together.
You run your fingers through his thick locks, pushing your favorite strand back smiling at his low hum of approval. The blunt ends of your nails scratch along his scalp, and you relish in the way it makes his eyes flutter closed for a minute. But when he opens them, there’s a determination that swims in the dark pools of his irises and the gold flecks that swim around him. It makes your stomach flip.
“I’m gonna show you how much I thought about you.” He says with a gravel in the usual smooth honey of his voice, his grip on your ass tightening, closing the space between him and your dripping heat.
”Oh my god.” You moan, deep and guttural at the way he wastes no time flattening his tongue along your seam, collecting everything greedily like it's sweet. He hums satisfied finding your clit, sucking with the kind of pressure that has your eyes roll in the back of your head, hips bucking against him.
”So good, honey. So fucking sweet.” He praises coming up for air, watching the way you somehow get more wet. “Perfect.”
Steve somehow buries his face even deeper into your cunt, the tip of his nose pressing against your mound. His long tongue pushes into your entrance, quickly finding a steady rhythm that gets him the sweet sounds from you he missed so much. He waits till you get needy enough to start riding his face to lick back up to your clit, sucking it roughly. He replaces the soft muscle with two long fingers that stretch you out with ease, coating them instantly with your need.
He groans against you, feeling the tight way your walls grip him begging for more. The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft dough of your ass, his grip threatening to become bruising pushing his face even deeper into you. Completely losing himself.
“God, it feels so - you feel so -“ Your words are cut off by a drawn out whine when he stops sucking and flicks the tip of his tongue at a relentless pace against your bundle of nerves instead. “Steve, I think I’m gonna..”
Your head falls back against the wall with a loud thud, eyes pinching shut when he curves his fingers just right.
“Cum for me, you’re so pretty when you cum. I wanna see it. Need to see it.” He pleads looking up at you from between your legs with swollen pink lips that glisten with your arousal. His dark gaze is a little crazed while his fingers never falter in their determination to pull what he wants out of you. “Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah,” You breathe, completely enamored by him, the band inside of you pulling taut. “I’ll do anything for you.”
Steve shudders at your words, the motion of his wrist faltering for just a moment before he continues to pump his digits in and out of you.
“You’re always so good for me baby. I feel spoiled.” He praises curving his fingers again, taking your clit back into the warmth of his mouth without warning.
The moan rips from your throat echoes in the quiet of the house, mixing with the low roll of thunder that hasn’t let up outside. He nods his head in approval, feeling how close you are, sucking even harder, fingers working you faster like he needs it just as bad.
Your orgasm starts to build, electricity tingling against your skin, chest tightening with need as you feel that band begin to snap. He swipes the tip of his tongue against you with just the right amount of pressure at the same time the pads of his fingers hit their mark deep where he can only reach, clouding your vision with stars.
”Steve, oh my god, I’m - I’m cumming. Oh my god, baby, baby, baby.” Your fingers tug so hard at his hair you know it hurts his scalp, thighs trembling around his head as you completely fall apart.
“That’s it, that’s my sweet fucking girl.” He says between gritted teeth pulling away just enough to watch the way your face crumples. “God, it's even better than I remembered. Look at you.”
His praises just intensify the overwhelming wave that washes over you, forcing your eyes to meet him despite how hard they want to close. He licks his lips, gaze wild, and hair a mess watching the way your body gives itself to him willingly, completely enraptured like you’re a piece of art. He doesn’t take his gaze off you, keeping a slow pace with his fingers until you reach down to push his hand away. Still, there’s a reluctance before he obliges. Greedy.
Nuzzling his nose into the softness of your tummy, he presses a kiss there before unhooking your knee. Dragging his body against yours, he slowly stands back up, big hands returning to their place on either side of your head. One of them glistening against the low light with your demise. Bending down to meet your heavy lidded eyes, the corner of his mouth ticks up watching you try to catch your breath.
“I’m never going to get sick of that,” He whispers, running his nose along the slope of yours. “Took tomorrow off too, need to get my fill. Not just a taste.”
His promise of keeping you in bed all day has your fingers curling into his shirt, tugging him closer. Tilting your chin up, your lips press against the corner of his mouth trying to coax him back. You want him to take you to the bed now.
“Well would you look at that, I’m off tomorrow too.” You smirk, still a little out of breath. Hooking your leg around his hip again without any shame, the curve of your mouth only grows watching his jaw clench because of it.
“Then I must be the luckiest man in the world.” He hums, brushing his lips against yours, pressing more of his body weight into you.
”Steve.” You whimper against his mouth, feeling the not so subtle roll of his hips again pushing the hard length of him where you want it most.
”Tough girl.” He teases, acting like he doesn’t know what you’re begging for, nipping at your pouting bottom lip.
”Please.” You fist his shirt tighter, running your tongue against the curve of his top lip, tasting yourself on him. “Please.”
Steve groans at your begging, one of his hands coming down to grip your jaw, stealing your mouth in the kind of kiss that sucks all the air out of your lungs. He licks every noise from you, eating them all till he’s full, only pulling away to help you rip his wet shirt over his head. Your greedy hands immediately find themselves in the thick thatch of hair on his chest, sighing into his mouth feeling the gold chain around his neck between your fingers.
He starts to walk backwards, pulling you with him towards the staircase that leads to your now shared bedroom. The idea of that has your heart skipping a beat. Your lips never leave his while you work open his belt with needy hands, letting the leather fall to the wood floor in a loud clunk.
It’s as if your fingers have a mind of their own flipping open the top button of his slacks, yanking down his zipper in one fluid motion. He helps trying to step out of them when they drop to his ankles rounding the corner to the bottom of the staircase, mouths still attached.
It all happens so fast that you don’t even realize Steve tripped until your knees press into the cold wood of the stairs on either side of his thighs. He lands on his butt with an ‘ooof’ breaking your never ending kiss apart with a wince.
“Are you okay baby?” You question realizing what happened, concern painting your features holding his stubble covered face in your hands.
”Ouch.” He grumbles, looping one arm around the small of your back securing you in place while the other hand rubs his. “Yeah, I’m good, just a bruised ego and tailbone.”
”We’re not very coordinated are we?” You bite into your bottom lip to try and hold back your giggle. Pressing your forehead to his, your hands find a new home on the hard plains of his shoulders.
“Just need a little bit of practice is all.” He huffs out a laugh, tightening his hold reminding you of what’s between your legs.
”I can commit to that.” You say, looking at him with lowered lashes, rolling your hips slow enough for him to feel the way you spread apart over his briefs. Steve shudders underneath you.
“We should start now then.” He growls, the fire from before coming back in the darkness of his gaze, bending down to start pressing messy kisses up your neck. “Right here.”
Steve takes your earlobe into the heat of his mouth before you can formulate any kind of response. Sucking hard enough for your eyes to roll into the back of your head, your nails digging into the freckles dotted like stars along his shoulders. The shaky moan that slips from your mouth has him kicking up between your legs waking up a new hunger.
“Yes, yes, please.” It sounds like you’re throwing a fit, the grind of your hips growing relentless, soaking through the only fabric that stands between you. “I need it so bad.”
”I can’t say no when you beg like that honey. Pretty girls always get whatever they want.” He whispers dirty in your ear, despite the sweetness of his words.
He shoves the waistband of his briefs down, freeing himself with a hiss. You can’t help but look, only growing wetter at the sight because no matter how many times you’ve seen it, you’re never sure how it’ll all fit.
“Oh god.” You moan, biting at your bottom lip watching his hand grip around his thick length, a pearl of precum wetting the pink head. “Missed you so much.”
Your words have him twitching in his grasp, the furrow of his brows wrinkling his forehead as you lift yourself up to make room for him.
“I’m home, never leaving you — fuuuck.” He groans, eyes pinching shut, swiping the tip of him through your slick folds before fitting himself to your entrance. “Never leaving you again.”
The first stretch has your jaw going slack, the initial sting radiating through your body and masochistally shooting to your core. Steve sucks a harsh breath between his teeth at the rock of your hips that pushes him in even deeper.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” Steve whispers watching another inch slowly disappear. “Fit me so well. So perfect.”
His constant praise is enough for the rest of him to slide the rest in the way with the kind of ease that has his eyes hitting the back of his head. Both his hands grip your hips, the pads of his fingers digging into your soft curves filling you to the tilt.
“So - you feel so -“ You can’t seem to find your words as your body adjusts to his size like it's the first time.
“Yeah?” He smirks like he knows what you’re trying to say, pressing his forehead to yours. “Want more?”
All you can manage is a nod, licking your lips, fluttering around him when his eyes track the movement. A flash of lightning illuminates the sharp lines of his face, revealing the storm that darkens inside of his gaze. He lifts his hips at the same time you rock against him, the slow drag of his cock against your favorite spot making you shudder.
“I almost forgot how soft you are, god, how tight you feel.” He murmurs rolling his hips up again, nudging his nose against yours, hot breath fanning against your mouth. “So lucky you’re all mine.”
”All yours.” You whimper, fingers finding their favorite spot tangled in his hair, rocking your hips with less control, trying to give your body what it’s screaming for. Chest to chest he somehow slips deeper. “Steve, please, I need more."
He groans into your mouth at your pleading words, closing the little space between you sloppy and wet. Wrapping his arm around your waist again, he hoists you tighter onto his lap swallowing your moan with his tongue, intending to give you exactly what you’re asking for. The movement of his hips becomes pointed, a slow kind of drag along your walls that lets you feel every ridge and curve of him. You meet his thrusts with equal vigor, mouths moving against each other, devouring like it's been years.
Steve hits a spot that earns the kind of high pitch noise from you that he doesn’t hear as often as he likes. And when he finds it again, he’s determined to hear it all night.
“Right there?” He smirks devilishly against your kiss bitten lips, before sucking your tongue into his mouth rolling his hips pushing his new favorite button again.
“Uh huh” You manage to get out when he lets you free, nodding frantically squeezing your walls so tight around him he thinks he might cum.
“Fuck, honey.” He falters for a moment, almost losing control with a shudder. His grip around your waist tightens for a second, keeping you in place regaining himself.
It’s you that loses control this time, drunk off the feeling of being so full. You fight against his strong hold, lifting yourself up, almost letting him slip out before slamming yourself back down. Steve buries his face into the crook of your neck, moaning so loud it drowns out the thunder shaking the windows. So you do it again.
”You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” He pants against your damp skin, tongue poking out to taste the hinge of your jaw.
“I want you to cum.” You whisper against his ear in that high pitched breathy way that always drives him crazy. He lets you take control, riding him with the kind of pace you both won’t be able to handle much longer. “Wanna feel it so bad baby.”
“Gonna make every inch of you mine. Over and over again.” He grunts, the snap of his hips becoming harsh, the beginnings of his orgasm starting to drive him mad.
”Ohmygod - fuck Steve!” Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you try to fight off your release wanting this feeling to last.
Steve sees it in the concentrated way you pinch your eyes closed and he’s having none of it.
”No, no, no honey. Give it to me. Give it to me right now.” There’s a desperation in his voice, grabbing your face between his fingers with one hand. “Need it. Right. Now.”
He punches his hips with each word, the last one hitting the spot he seems to have memorized, and you do exactly as he says screaming his name like it's the only thing you know. Your walls flutter and spasm around his length, bringing him over the edge too with a pulse that spills everything he has inside of you claiming every inch like he promised. It only intensifies your release, fingers tugging harshly in his hair while he steals your mouth and your moans, giving you his in return.
It takes awhile for you both to come back down, aftershocks rolling through your tangled bodies completely spent on the stairs. Foreheads pressed together, nothing but heavy breaths and soft kisses against sweat slick skin fill the quiet space between the light tapping of the rain. Your eyes flutter open to find him already staring at you with the kind of love sickness inside of it that makes you feel shy despite your naked position.
”Hi.” You whisper with a small smile, cheeks flaming under his gaze.
”Hey pretty.” His white teeth flash, the creases of his crows feet deepening with a hand that cups the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the curve of your bottom lip. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too.” It comes out quiet, still getting used to saying it to him so freely. “Can’t ever be gone that long again.”
“Never, ever.” He grins, nudging his nose with yours, stealing another kiss. “I promise.”
