âtis the damn season
AUTUMN
chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months.Â
Thereâs a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing youâre going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know thatâs not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself thatâs all you have to worry about â right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called âFriends-giving-masâ as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising youâd leave her and your dad some behind.Â
The clock hits 7 p.m. and youâre finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room.Â
âAlright, Iâm leaving.â you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
âDonât forget your cookies, sweetheart! Theyâre on the table.â she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, âif you need us to come pick you up, we will.â
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous.Â
âOh, I think Iâll manage just fine.â you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, âlove you guys!â
âââââââââ
The outside of the Harringtonâs house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him â well, up until your senior year of high school at least.Â
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harringtonâs front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance.Â
Youâre greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear youâve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
âOh my god! I missed you so much.â Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, âeveryoneâs in here, weâre just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then weâll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you donât even knowââÂ
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie â who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet â and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation.Â
âIâm telling you, man, Iâm cursedââ
âYouâre not cursed, Harrington. Iâm telling you, youâre just looking in the wrong place for love.â Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
âOh yeah? And where should I be looking?â Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
âIâve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after â oh shit, Y/N!â Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As youâre being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddieâs hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didnât miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that heâs trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
âStevie, how are you?â you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
âH-Hey, Y/N.â Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, âI didnât know you were coming tonight.âÂ
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing âsorryâ over your shoulder.
âYeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,â you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, âsorry if I messed anything up, I-Iâll lay low and wonât eat if that messes up numbers or somethingââ
âNo!â Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, âI mean, shitâsorry. No, youâre not messing anything up at all, you know youâre always welcome here.âÂ
The smile on Steveâs face is genuine as he speaks, but thereâs a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be.Â
âWell!â Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, âgotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!â
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guestsâwhich was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickieâwho were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.Â
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months youâd been gone. You couldâve sworn Steveâs jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didnât put too much thought into it.Â
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then itâs time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didnât get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it.Â
You had drawn Jonathanâs name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadnât been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first.Â
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands.Â
âThank you, Eddie.â you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
âItâs always a pleasure,â he jabs back, âwe can fire one up after presents if youâd like.âÂ
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
âââââââââ
Itâs not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something thatâs happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like youâve only been there a few hours. Youâre sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye.Â
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand.Â
Itâs the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldnât be following Steve Harrington â the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you â onto the porch. You shouldâve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldnât do it. You just had to talk to him â you werenât so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
âYou alright?â was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you werenât making the wrong decision.
âYeahâYeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.â Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that itâs you that followed him outside. Â
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine youâd been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt youâd brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
âWould you like to partake?â you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steveâs.Â
âIâll never say no to that,â he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers.Â
Thereâs a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes.Â
âSo, howâs the Stevie Harrington been faring since Iâve been gone?â you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside.Â
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say.Â
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasnât been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasnât even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldnât now. It was too late, so he just said; âOh, yâknow. Iâve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.â
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him.Â
âDoes âsame shit, different dayâ just mean youâre stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter youâve been for the last two years?â you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet.Â
âYeah, I guess you could say that.â Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff.Â
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say âI love youâ or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads.Â
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girlâs day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still.Â
âIâI guess I should probably head home for the night,â you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
âWhy donât you just stay?â Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. âItâs so cold out and Iâm sure at this point your parents already think youâre staying anyways.â
You stop on your toes at Steveâs voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. Itâs not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
âWe can have a sleepover on the couch,â Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you.Â
âI donât have any clothes,â you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in.Â
âOh, Iâm sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!â Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
âOâOf course I do, Iâm sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.â Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didnât answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You couldâve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface.Â
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well.Â
âââââââââ
You donât know what led to this, but there you were, in Steveâs bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be.Â
This wasnât supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldnât come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were.Â
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart â and pants â yet again.Â
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. Youâre unsure if itâs the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning thatâs making you feel like this, but you donât want it to stop any time soon.Â
Thereâs a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open.Â
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
âFuck,â Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. Thereâs a twinkle in his eye that you havenât seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. âIâIâm sorry I just, I needâI need you.â
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what youâre about to do.Â
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that heâs intoxicated â on the weed or the wine, or you, youâre not sure â but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steveâs sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
Youâd only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didnât actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever.Â
Steveâs eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for.Â
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
âFuckâStevie,â you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, âplease, I need you.â
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words heâd been dying to hear from you for months.Â
âI know, I know, baby.â he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, âIâll take care of you.â
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
âThisâThis doesnât mean anythâthis doesnât change anything,â he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, âwe can still stay closeâkeep being friends after this.â
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesnât mean anything, so youâre convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college.Â
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously.Â
His fingers immediately fall to your core once youâre free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper.Â
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and youâll whine about his teasing if he doesnât act soon.Â
Heâs out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
âYou look so good like this, sweetheart.â Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, âso pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though Iâve barely touched you.â
âStevieâŠâ you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
âTell me what you want from me,â he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
âIâI need you, Steve.â you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, âI need you to fuck me, please.â
âWell, since you asked so nicely.â he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you havenât felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time youâd been gone, your body wasnât used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could.Â
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesnât mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You werenât sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
âI missed this, cuddling with you, holdinâ you like this.â was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
âYeah, me too.â you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
âââââââââ
The spice of Steveâs cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadnât been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow.Â
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found youâd slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes youâd originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound.Â
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you werenât expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own.Â
âWhat a night so far, huh?â he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor.Â
âDonât even start with me, Munson.â you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
âWoah, donât get that attitude with me! I didnât say anything,â he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, âbut that also doesnât mean I didnât hear anything.â
âYou did not,â you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, âthereâs no way you heard anything because nothing happened.â
âYouâve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.â Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping.Â
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasnât going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasnât asleep yet.Â
âI wonât tell anyone, I promise.â you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
âI know.â you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. âI just donât want to live like this forever, IâI canât keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.â
âHeâs not embarrassed of you,â Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, âheâs just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.â
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe Iâd believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs.Â
You donât reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down.Â
âGoodnight, Eds,â is all you say in return, though you know you wonât be getting any sleep.Â
âGoodnight, Y/N.â
âââââââââ
After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave.Â
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steveâs couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours.Â
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point.Â
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesnât mean anything. This doesnât mean anything. This doesnât mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if youâd actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parentâs house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldnât see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
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tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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18+
summary: The rainy night Steve asks you to move in with him.
wc: 1k
warnings: fem!reader, older!steve, age gap (steve is 43, reader is 30), p in v sex, cream pie, slightly subby begging steve, slight breeding kink, mentions of drinking at dinner.
This blurb belongs to my series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. Just missed my favorite old man đ„ș
Steveâs forehead is pressed to yours, sweat dripping off that one strand that just wonât stay back with a love drunk stare that threatens to swallow you whole. You almost get lost in the gold that still shimmers in the darkness of his blown out eyes, freshly done nails digging half crescent moons into the constellations on his shoulder blades. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, sticky skin clinging to the brown leather of his couch making every bounce on his lap threaten to rub them raw, but you could care less. Not when heâs looking at you like this.
The rain hits the sliding glass door of his backyard, beige curtains drawn hiding you both from the two day rain storm thatâs kept you away from your apartment and mostly in his bed. One of his arms loops around your waist, holding you close from the small of your back.
Chest to chest, his coarse hairs tickle the soft skin of your breasts, long fingers digging into the plush curve of your hip. A palm as warm as the electric fireplace behind you cups the back of your neck, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive spot behind your ear he likes to kiss every morning.
Spearmint and whiskey from the drinks you had at dinner fill the space between you with every breath that fans against your lips. Sweet nothings said with drunken abandon, noses bumping with every thrust, the length of him stretching you in a way that has your eyes roll in the back of your head every time he meets the roll of your hips.
âIf you think Iâm letting you resign that lease this summer,â he breathes, somehow pulling you even closer, making him go deeper, whispering a sweet âI knowâ when you whine before finishing his thought, âyouâre crazy honey.â
Thunder rumbles in the distance outside, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him twitch inside of you, eyebrows marrying together when your fingers find their way into the silver and chestnut hair that curls at the nape of his neck.
âTryinâ to keep me all to yourself huh?â You tease, the liquid courage helping you stay calm at the realization of what he was implying. A conversation youâve both tiptoed around when five nights a week sleepovers between places became a regular thing.
His top lip catches on your bottom, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smirk before he steals a kiss that has you chasing his tongue with yours letting him take control. The grip on your waist tightens, stopping your movements while the roll of his hips becomes pointed in your undoing.
âGod, yes baby, please.â He moans, perfect teeth nipping at your bottom lip when you tug on his roots, the tip of him teasing the spot that has you gasping his name, âI want you every day, please.â
The thumb behind your ear applies just enough pressure for you to turn your head to the side, letting him kiss a sloppy trail up your jaw, whispering âpleaseâ after each one. Loosening his hold enough for you to grind your hips, you meet his thrusts in a way that has the hair on his pelvic bone catch your clit with the perfect pressure over and over again.
âOh my god, Steve.â You gasp, pulling at his hair hard enough for his lips to meet yours again. Something a little smug behind them.
âYeah?â His hot breath makes you shudder as you find just the right rhythm.
âFeels sâgood, you always make me fuck -â the buildup youâve already had three times today returns like its the first time all over again, lashes tickling the tops of your cheeks.
âI know honey, I can feel it, you can give it to me, you know I want it.â He hums against your lips, the tip of his tongue teasing yours.
The hand on your hip snakes between your thighs, the pad of his thumb finding your clit, rubbing the kind of messy circles that has your legs start to shake.
âWanna make you cum every day, please.â Grunting when the roll of your hips makes his toes curl against the hardwood floor, he knows heâs not going to last much longer.
âTell me youâre gonna let me baby.â Steve practically whines and all you can do is nod because even every day doesnât seem like enough.
Whatâs longer than forever?
âCum inside me,â you whine, âI want it, god, I need it.â
The groan that rumbles from his chest at your request is enough to rival the thunder that gets close enough to shake the house, and the band that wound up tight enough to snap finally does just that, your cunt giving him no choice but to listen to you as you fall apart on his lap.
âAnything - anything you want.â He pants against your open mouth, twitching against your fluttering walls before spilling everything thatâs left of him inside of you. The blunt ends of his nails dig into your hip keeping you close so you have to take every last bit, one day hoping youâll want it to stick.
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