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futureplayboibunnie · 10 months

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let them bleed for all I care

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

being fuckbuddies with Miguel O’Hara wasn’t easy when you were both intensely yearning

another angsty so damn wrapped up in romance brainrot blurb piece of this man because i’m still insane. this is definitely a self serve fic but idc i’m sharing anyway. ALSO THERES A PART 2!

warnings: angsty sweet nothings and confessions, mutual INTENSE pining, sensuallll (tehehe), waking up in bed, lil fluffy

A dim glow coated your room and in turn, clutched at your heart. The rows of streetlights outside beaming against the deep dark horizon and peeping through the unsheathed window offered the perfect fuzzy gleam to make Miguel's face look even more perfect. Being twisted and disheveled in bedsheets with a man that struggled with letting anyone in would be a shocking revelation two months beforehand.

Miguel was...untrusting and cold, everyone seemed to come to that conclusion with him. He was a force of nature, something that you once thought was inhuman and unfeeling, that harsh and abrasive exterior being a tremendous cover for the lack of constructive outlets he had. At least he knew where he stood with everyone, living with himself in isolation was a form of self-preservation- and he was fine with it, but he wasn't happy with it. He had a tendency to lose himself in his rage or his panic, his body bore the brunt of it all. He would practically work his fingers to the bone in order to not talk to anyone, it was definitely a highlighted page of his own personal book of dramatic effects. You didn't want to just see the picture of himself he's painted- you wanted to fucking admire it like a lovesick fool. There were so many failed attempts to get closer to him, he was so dedicated to proving himself to be this leader that didn't need the weakness of having anyone, and that in turn only made him spiral into his own misery. Miguel tried so hard to not let you in, it was almost admirable if it wasn't so damn saddening. Every time you thought you were getting closer to him, he dismissed you and bit a clippy ‘’I'm fine. Leave.’’ It wasn't until you took advantage of the fact he doesn't have spidey senses and just swung onto his platform and just hugged him everything just went blank. Ever since then, he's called your name in the dark and contemplated on the zeal in which he would destroy those who would harm you. He had denied every single impulse he's ever had for you out of some misbegotten respect to his own personal impending doom to which he was still so attached.

Being fuck buddies had its benefits, no strings attached. You just had to tamper down your own feelings for him. It was easy enough for a while. You'd fuck, clean up and then leave in different directions. The routine changed though. You'd lay in bed a lot longer, you'd just hold each other and feel each other's skin. Neither of you would talk about it after. Miguel was lonely. He didn't like to admit it but he was. These clandestine moments with you were the only opportunity he had to breathe and let out everything inside of him.

Your head was on his chest, naked bodies tangled with each other as his arms held you steady and embraced you, your leg curled up and rested on his thighs, one hand buried in your hair and the other one resting on the dip of your waist feeling the curve of your skin. You were so warm, so soft, so good. Miguel liked it when you touched him like this, his body just constantly craved your contact.

Romance was never on the table for a man like him so obviously his body acted like it, he hadn't had the time for it until you came into his life and left your everlasting and distinctive mark. You fucked like a pornstar. Miguel's fingers stroked through your hair, breathing in the pretty scent committing it to memory. The atmosphere between you both was heavy and dense like you needed to talk about something but neither of you was committing to budge your will, you gazed at the marks on vour arms. The son of a bitch was so rough... just how you liked it, the punctures in your skin that his claws made only showcased such a thing. Your brows furrowed as you hummed at the sight of it.

‘’Too rough?’’ Miguel raised his eyebrow at your purpose, his voice gritty and not sympathetic in the slightest.

‘’No...perfect.’’ You replied under your breath, slightly saddened that this is all you'll ever be to each other. Just a fuck. The way you said it made his heart cave and a sense of confusion transferred onto his face. Is that what you thought of him? Or just the way he could fuck you. He turned his face to the side to gape at you with burning eyes, you looked so hazy and angelic, he grabbed your face in both of his hands and cradled it whilst using his thumb to smooth out the skin of your cheeks. Your eyes widened at his unexpected action of tenderness, his thumb traveled to your supple lips conveying a desperate and willing look on your face. Miguel's brows wilted sincerely and his mouth unhinged open as if he was going to say something.

“'What is it?”You murmured wantonly, a strange flame of desire burning into your chest, he has the ability to make or break you. He's always had the power to do that, you just weren't sure if he was willing to see it.

“'I've been...having bad dreams.'” Miguel's eyes diverted from yours as if he was embarrassed to say it, to admit that he was afraid. He wanted to ask something from you, he was sure it was going over the boundary of fuck buddies but he needed to ease his straining mind.

“'About?'” You implored but he just gave you a hard scowl filled with hubris. You sighed at his silence and just grabbed the hand that was on your face and kissed his palm. Miguel felt every single hair on his body stands to attention, litter of goosebumps trailed at his back at your ministrations and he felt it echo through his very soul. Both of you were going too far, breaching the terms of your agreement but you were two sad and lonely people trying to fill the void with the warmth of another person's body. “For God's sake, when will you stop being so noble?”

Miguel drank in your question and he uttered the words he knew would get him kicked out. “Can I stay tonight?”

“Miguel-“

“Please.”

Your hands raked through his hair, needy eyes searching his flitting from perfect feature to feature trying to understand if any of this was real. Did he feel what you felt for him? Or was he just too tired to go home? You didn't want to ponder the latter, you captured your lips with his gently as a confirmation. Your head rested against his chest, tracing your fingers against his skin like an odd form of tenderness. You didn't like what you were feeling: you were starting to fall in love with him.

Miguel awoke in a daze, his vision blurring into shapes and stars as the nightfall outside seeped into your room. He felt your warmth beside him and it soothed the wits about him, your steady breathing offered an equilibrium that he never had. A wave of protectiveness washed over him- his sentiments have always stayed the same when it came to you. What besides love inspires such pain and yearning?

Miguel leaned in and kissed behind your ear as you mumbled into nothing and your hands slid beneath the pillow as you stretched. Your hair fell with such ease and grace, a hazed-out mess on the bedsheets as your frame indented into the mattress, slivers of skin peeking out as you tangled and breathed. If anyone laid a finger on you it would be his undoing. He'd send them screaming back to hell, the dark thought sliced through his brain and he glanced at you to nullify it. He leaned up and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, Miguel glanced at you again to make sure you were sleeping. He clenched his jaw and a hand ran down his naked back and rested on his neck- as if he were trying to find the words to start a confession. A bubbling of words started to build up within him, he felt a need to just verbally say this out loud to you but without you actually knowing of it consciously. Miguel elbows dug into his legs as he gazed at his intertwined fingertips and let out a breath, finally finding the words he's always wanted to say to you.

“I don't know what's happening to me,” He began “I don't know why I've let it get this far. I shouldn't have given into my own selfish demands. Hell, I've done it once before and a whole fuckin’ universe collapsed...dios mio.” He raked an exasperated hand through his hair at the painful memory that was seared into his mind. “You just had to ruin everything for me, you just had to fuckin’ touch me and I was yours, now what kind of pathetic does that make me? What do I do with all this? What do I do with you?” Miguel paused to regain his self control and calm his frustrations but a sliver of sadness dropped into his chest instead.

“It's funny... You're so easy to hate. You're so easy to love. What the hell do I do with this hermosa? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, just tell me what you want...tell me what you want from me...cause it feels like you're just taking it at this point. You're taking from me and now I'm fuckin’ broken down and hungry for you like a dog waiting for scraps hermosa. The rational part of me hates it but the other rabid part is just begging at your feet. I'm like a fuckin’ mutt for you...I'm in love with you mi vida.” Those words fit perfectly in his mouth: I'm in love with you. It tasted fucking glorious, it tasted sweet and sad at the same time, it was revolutionary. It was like those words were destined to come out of his mouth, just for you to hear. “It's ironic because you'd probably kick me in the teeth for saying such a 'formidable’ thing but I'm not blind, I can't deny what's in front of me and I don't want to keep ignoring it.’

A soft inhale of your breath ended his confession, you twisted your body to the side as your cheek was planted in the pillow facing him. You stretched out your arm onto his side of th bed as if you were reaching out for him, wanting to find his warmth. Miguel couldn't help but admire you in a trance like state while you were like this, at your most natural, at your most beautiful. He'd seen your face contorted in pleasure when he fucked into you, your body arch into his touch when his face was buried between the sweet valley of your thighs but he had never seen you look like this. Like an angel from the clouds as the white sheet barely covered you- you looked like a painting. Your long lashes were fanned out against your cheek and your lips were parted for your gentle breathing, the swell of your chest rising and falling in a synchronised rhythm. You looked perfect. He hated it.

Miguel slipped back into bed and under the sheets, finding your warmth once again. He held onto you, his palm clutching at your waist as your head eased onto his chest. His brows tensed before he kissed your temple, a thought occured to him. Every day he was with you and had you were the days he would go home and sleep soundly and didn't dream, he hadn't thought there was a correlation, now he connected the dots and the picture became all the more clearer. There was nothing he could do. He just had to suppress his needs and desires and put everything else in front of him.

Your eyes seeped in the tiredness the beginning of the morning offered, and the chirping of the birds outside of your window echoed through your ears, serving as a gentle reminder of the night before. A heavy feeling set in your chest as you turned your gaze to Miguel's broad and bare back, worry glazed over your eyes as you remembered the words he uttered last night when he thought you were asleep. You couldn't believe it...you wouldn't believe that all this time you weren't alone in your yearning. You couldn't quite grasp that you had Miguel O’Hara on his knees, begging to love you.

You wanted to take it from him so bad but a pang of guilt started eating at you. Your arms immediately embraced his frame as you nuzzled his neck and inhaled the deep cadence of the lingering notes of cologne from last night. Miguel's soft copper hair was messy and disrupted, without thinking you raked your fingers through his hair. Miguel was already awake, he felt it and he grumbled into it, melting against your blessed touch. Your other hand traced down his broad shoulders and his back, feeling his skin, tracing the pads of your fingers down his warm, golden flesh.

"Hmm." Miguel breathed raggedly at the sensation. “Morning.” you kissed his shoulder as you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. Miguel's eyes widened at your action, unsure as to why you were showering him with affection- it's never been like this before. You've never woken up with each other before. Miguel struggled to leave and get out of your hold and it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

“Don't leave...”You whispered woefully in his ear, planting a kiss on the base of his neck. “Don't leave me...” Miguel was stunned and it was obvious by the way his brows furrowed, he wasn't sure if it was the fact he just woke up or if it was his half-crazed manic mind playing tricks on him.

He twisted his body to face you, his cheek buried in the pillow and the look you shared was that of pure longing, your hands went to his hair again, tracing the outlines of his face with your thumb. “I heard you...” Your sad eyes were lit by the liquid gold of the sun, Miguel would have been entranced if any other words fell out of those pretty lips of yours. He wasn't so lucky. He heard the exact thing that his very soul was dreading.

“I'm sorry you had to.” Miguel's eyes shot open and glared a hole into your face when he said it, feeling genuinely sorry for you. Instead of saying anything you moved your body and clambered onto his lap and bent down to kiss him tenderly. His calloused palms felt at your thighs and the outskirts of them, your hair fell to the side as your bodies slid over each other. Miguel was confused at what you felt, what you wanted and what you were doing- you were just so damn hard to read sometimes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and breathed him in deeply, his massive arms wrapping around you tightly like he would die if he let go.

"You know, I was never scared of you and I thought that made me stupid. Naive. You name it. You were so good at scaring people off, it was admirable, I couldn't help but be in fucking awe of you when you were being so…dangerous.” You spoke gently as your fingers went to trace something undistinct on his chest. “The others warned me that you'd probably rip my tongue out of my gaping mouth if I ever tried anything at all with you and I was half expecting you to break me in half like a toothpick when I just...held you....for the first time. Even if you did break me in half I would've relished every second of it, I think I've spent so much time practically begging you to just…break me.” Your voice faltered slightly and a smattering of whirlwind emotions started to rise within you. Miguel was hooked on your every word like a dog with a bird at your door. “When you told me you wanted me to touch you and that you wanted to touch me, I felt like... a teenager being asked out by an allstar jock. It was pathetic but I didn't care. It was you...and bit by bit, minute by minute I started to fall in love with you. I thought I was being a fucking idiot because who the hell was I to fall in love with Miguel O'Hara?” Miguel's silence was gruelling and heavy, he didn't want to answer your question becuase if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. His lips pressed against your temple and as always you melted into him.

“Don't think that little of yourself. I don't like it.” He murmured.

“It's not fair to you at all...all of this, I know that. All of these secrets bleeding into each other when you already have the weight of the whole fucking multiverse on those broad and tired shoulders.”

“Let them bleed for all I care.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #across the spiderverse

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wtfsteveharrington · 2 years

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put away my pride / roommate!steve harrington x reader

contents: requested - mutual masturbation where reader’s vibrator dies so they get a helping hand. i changed up the ask a lil but hopefully this still works!

roommate steve finds you flustered and on the hunt for batteries and wants to help take care of your bad mood.

if you squint there’s a bit of perv!steve energy. female masturbation w/ toy, mutual masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, a hint of cum play. a lil praise kink for steve.

author’s note: this was meant to be pwp then steve harrington’s chokehold came back strong so SOME plot was made. no reader pronouns included nor body descriptors outside of fleshy/soft skin references.

word count: almost 4.6k

Steve would never tell you this to keep you from getting embarrassed - but the walls in your apartment are thin. And you? Well... You can be a little loud sometimes, much to his surprise.

Not just you, but late at night there’s this faint mechanical buzzing he can hear that keeps him up. He’s tried moving his bed to a different wall, tried asking if you could hear him rustling around at night, tried everything he could think of.

Alas.

You wait until it’s late enough that you’re sure he has to be asleep, pulling your heavy comforter over your naked body and getting yourself comfortable back on the bed. It’s been over a month since Robin had dragged you two towns over to go to some sex shop, getting the two of you matching vibrators because she was too embarrassing to get one by herself.

It sat in the box under your bed for over a week until one day you were so frustrated and needed an outlet.

You’d been on edge the whole day and didn’t have the energy to tease yourself tonight. The toy hums to life under the blanket and you quickly think up some plot to keep yourself entertained before bringing the toy towards your clit. If you had been more present you might have noticed that it sounded weaker than normal, but you weren’t.

The toy had, maybe, 3 minutes of life left. Even in your needy state, three minutes wasn’t nearly enough. You hear it start to slow down, muttering out a string of panicked profanities as the toy gives out on you.

You’re flabbergasted, pulling the blanket off your heated frame which sends the toy tumbling somewhere across the room. A problem for later. You had told yourself to pick up batteries on the way home but forgot and were now paying the price.

Stumbling around your dark room you pull a shirt from the pile of laundry in the corner and begin your hunt because surely there’s two batteries hiding somewhere in this apartment. You’d steal them from a different appliance if it came down to it. You’re turning the corner into the kitchen and letting out a small scream because -

“Holy fuck, you’re awake!”

Steve’s standing in front of the sink with a glass of water in his hands. Truthfully? He’s a vision. Shirtless with these light blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips, hair a crazy mess, and you refuse to let your eyes linger too long but you could swear there was a bit of a bulge under those damn sweats. “Couldn’t sleep.. What are you doing up?” You’re cursing yourself for not throwing on shorts or cleaning yourself up before heading this way because you’re pretty sure he could hear why you’re up if you take a step. Still on edge and wet and he looks so pretty that it’s not helping.

You’re walking over towards the sink, pulling out the junk drawer next to it and digging through on a mission. This night had already become significantly more frustrating than you anticipated and this wasn’t going to help. “Just uh, - Noticed my alarm clock was dead. Wanted to get new batteries in it so I don’t oversleep.” Steve’s chuckling into his water, giving the energy that he knows something you don’t. Normally it would annoy you but tonight you’re too focused.

Where are they?

Everything in the drawer is getting slammed on the counter. The batteries surely have to be rolling around somewhere in there. Steve’s leaning in closer to you, heat rolling off his body and the combination of everything is starting to make you dizzy. “What do you need? AA’s? Hate to break it to you but I took the last of ‘em for our TV remote.” Fuck. You’re gripping the edge of the drawer, leaning over it and trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

Steve’s hand is on your lower back and he’s trying to reassure you with the touch yet little does he realize that it’s making your problem so much worse. “Wanna borrow my alarm? I don’t work until two tomorrow... Pretty sure I’ll be up before that.” You’re throwing everything back into the drawer, tears burning the edge of your eyes because you’re so frustrated. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight now. Won’t matter.”

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but nothing’s worse than being so close and having it ripped away without a solution in sight. Yeah, you could use your fingers but it’s not the same. His hand’s giving your back a small squeeze while he sits his glass in the sink.

“What’s got you this worked up, huh? Anything I can do to help?”

It feels like there’s something laced in his words but you can’t decide if it’s actually there or your brain is imagining it due to your current state.

He’s turning to face you, bare chest pressed against the side of your arm. Your cheeks are burning up and you can’t believe how much you’re falling apart from not being able to finish. Between the vibrator dying and the way you can smell how minty Steve’s breath is from brushing his teeth and the way his chest hair is tickling you with each deep breath he takes...

“Robin convinced me I needed this stupid vibrator and I kept telling myself I needed to get batteries after work for it because I’m practically -” You toss your hands up in the air with a scoff and you know you need to shut up but you can’t help yourself, “I’m addicted to using it. Like, fully addicted, Steve. All I wanted to do after this long ass day is lay back and make myself cum but now I’m standing in the kitchen looking crazy. I can only imagine what you’re thinking of me right now.”

You can practically feel how entertained he is. Lopsided grin as his hand presses deeper into your back. The pressure brings out this small moan from you that Steve’s not quite sure he didn’t imagine.

“M’not judging you. Trust me.”

Your shirt’s getting pulled up ever so slightly by his motions and he’s trying so hard not to look down and take in each inch of exposed skin. “I uh, - I could help. If you want me to, yanno? Getting girls off is one of the few things I’m good at and I don’t want you to suffer like this when I could easily take the edge off.” Blame how late it was for, blame the countless nights he’s spent listening to you moan in the other room...

Steve’s now cupping the back of your thigh, sliding up until you feel his thumb brush across the bottom of your ass. His lips are ghosting over the shirt covering your shoulder and you can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. You whimper out this pathetic sound as he begins to knead at your tender flesh, pushing your hips back into his touch. The past few years have toughened up his hands. His grip is stronger, the pads of his fingers and palms not nearly as soft as you were used to from the boys you’ve been with in the past.

Plus, not to mention, it felt different because this was Steve touching you, after all.

“Gotta give me something... Tell me to stop if this is too much and I will. We’ll get you the batteries out of the remote and never talk about this again.” You barely let him finish before you’re turning your head to finally face him, leaning in to brush your lips along his. “Need you to take care of me. Please.” He’s bumping his nose on yours, sliding his hand forward and giving you with a moan at the feeling of how slick your thighs were.

“Jesus Christ.”

You gasp as his fingers find their way between your folds, taking a small side step closer to him to give his wrist more space to move. The step has your thigh pressing along his crotch, now it’s both of you who are moaning at the sensation. Steve ruts his hips up towards you at the same time he push his hand forward to fully cup you, crooking his middle finger so it’s tracing the outer part of your folds. You finally lean in, connecting your lips in a kiss that’s messy and loud and so needy.

He adds his pointer finger to the mix, lightly applying pressure against your hole. You can feel yourself clenching at the touch, rocking your hips down on him. Pulling back from the kiss, lips glossy, you watch as the motion of your hips both works you up from the added pressure between your thighs and you can feel him getting harder on your side. The combination of all these sensations is making you lose all train of thought. This is crazy, isn’t it?

“Need to cum, Steve. Can you make me do that?”

“Yeah... Fuck, yeah, I can do that.” His hair is flopping down in his face as he nods his head along with his words, but that doesn’t stop him from watching your expression as he finally dips his index finger into you.

You’re gripping at his arm with one hand, his muscles flexing under your touch while the the other grips the counter for some sense of stability. Lips ghosting over each others as you gasp at the feeling. His thumb’s dragging along your clit at the same time he slips his middle finger inside of you too.

Steve’s finally kissing you and every nerve in your body instantly lights on fire. His lips are warm, more gentle than you expected. There’s a part of you that’s convinced you could cum from just his fingers and this kiss alone considering everything else that happened tonight. Both of you savor each time the other moans into the kiss.

You bring your hand to his chest, sliding it up through the patch hair then reaching down to toy with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Can I touch you?” He’s chuckling against your mouth, giving a small nod while reaching around to cup the back of your neck. In all honesty, Steve would let you do anything to him. Tilting your head just right so he can deepen the kiss at the same time your hand slips into his pants.

Running your fingers through the patch of hair, dragging your nails against the skin, the combination making him buck his hips up towards your touch. His hand starts picking up the pace, scissoring his fingers deep inside of you to stretch you out. Not that he’s expecting anything more than this… But just in case he wants you to be prepared.

Your hand goes lower, his length hard against your palm. He’s rocking himself towards your touch, lips parted against yours but there’s too much going on for him to be able to keep up with kissing for now. You wrap your hand around him, cursing yourself for not getting something to act like lube before you got this far. Nonetheless, Steve’s fucking himself into your fist, enjoying the drag and friction your dry hand provides.

The two of you work each other like that, a mess of needy touches and sloppy kissing. You’re pretty sure the both of you could finish like this if you gave it another five minutes.

Steve has other plans.

You feel the vibrations through his chest as he groans next to you, pulling your lip back gently with his teeth and slowing his motions between your thighs.

“So fucking wet. Let me clean you up... Gonna feel so much better.”

He’s fully pulling away from you, eyes hooded and his lips swollen. Falling to his knees in front of you and using a firm grip on your waist to turn your body so your back’s now against the counter.

Steve’s ducking his head under your shirt. You can feel him alternating between kissing your inner thigh and dragging his tongue over your heated skin as he gets closer to your core. He knows how badly you need him, a feeling that has his ego sent to the moon, but he’s not sure if this will happen again so he’s going to savor it while he can.

This damn drawer handle behind you continues to press into your hip. A stray thought passing through that holy shit you’re gonna be left with some insane bruises tomorrow. You barely have time to process that when Steve’s pulling all your attention back to him.

“You ever think about me when you fuck yourself?”

The question makes you gasp, throwing your head back as if not looking at him makes it better. How do you even answer this without sounding insane? His thumb is pressing firmly against your clit as if to punctuate his question before continuing when you don’t instantly answer, “Have you? Because I’ve thought about you. Know I shouldn’t but sometimes I can’t help myself.”

Your hips jolt back as his thumb now swirls your clit, “Yes. Sometimes you come home and I can tell your date didn’t go well... I’ll lay in bed and think about you using me instead of your fist.”

He doesn’t respond, instead rewarding you by finally leaning in and pressing a kiss to the left of your clit, the right, above it, then wrapping his lips around the nub while starting to move his fingers still buried inside of you.

You’re lacing your fingers in his hair, knees getting weaker by the second as you rock your hips towards his mouth. He’s lapping at your hole, letting his tongue just push in to tease you before showing your clit love too. You feel his fingers at your core now, one sliding inside of you once again while he sucks at your clit. He’s already worked you up, he knows one won’t do, so before you can even register there’s another finger being pushed in with the first one.

Steve’s fingers are dragging inside of you, a firm pressure along your walls, bending them to press down just right and - “Steve, fuck. Gonna cum if you keep that up.” That’s all the encouragement he needed to keep up that pace, continue tracing over your clit with his tongue at the same time. Flicking it against the nub, moaning into your sensitive skin.

There’s something about Steve Harrington kneeling on the kitchen floor, ignoring his own hard cock, and eating you out better than anyone else...

You’re tightening your grip on his hair, hips twitching as your orgasm builds deep in your stomach. He’s not backing off. Bottom lip dragging along your folds as he moves to suck your clit in between his lips now. You’re choking out his name, pressing your thighs tight around his head and throwing back your head as your climax hits.

Steve licks you through your orgasm, humming into your sensitive core as he works away. His grip on your waist is the only thing keeping you upright as your body starts to go limp, overwhelmed and exhausted from the night’s events. You can feel him sit your feet on the cold kitchen floor but you both know your thighs are shaking too bad for you to support yourself.

He’s chuckling to himself, admiring how much he was able to get you to fall apart before helping you jump backwards onto the counter. Maybe you shouldn’t be up there bare assed, neither of you particularly care at the moment.

As your body comes down from it’s high, you start to really notice how much Steve has given you without asking for a single thing in return. He’s straining against his sweats, shifting uncomfortably, cheeks turning rosy.

You wave him closer, giving him a sleepy and haphazard grin as he steps between your legs. He’s going to excuse himself to the bathroom or claim he needs to sleep... Make up something so he can go take care of himself.

Steve’s lost his train of thought as you brush your fingers alongside the top of his cock. You’re taking mental notes - slight curve, thick vein to the left of where you’re touching, his hips keep jerking when you gently rake your nails against his length. There’s a thick tension in the air that’s sending a shiver down your spine, the motion not going unnoticed. Both of you know you should probably go to bed, but Steve deserves more than a night of jacking off in his bed, right?

The question comes out before you can even register what you’re about to say.

“Do you wanna fuck me?”

Steve’s cock twitches beneath your fingers and you can hear his breath get stuck in his throat. He starts rocking himself into your hand and if you scoot up a little more - The head of his cock is now flush against your core. You watch as he grabs a hold of himself, dragging his tip through your folds and shuddering at how wet and warm and God he wants to sink into you so bad.

“Don’t know if I can fuck you just once. Think I’m gonna get addicted.”

Which makes you giggle. A lot.

You’ve seen him through all his phases, from King Steve to hopeless Steve, and you never once pictured that you would be his undoing. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in to press a kiss to his brow, his nose, his cheek, all the way until you’re kissing under his ear and -

“Make me yours then.”

Steve bites down on his bottom lip and has to take a moment or he’s running the risk of ruining this for both of you. He’s tapping himself on your clit one last time before lining himself up, meeting your eye and watching your expression as he starts to inch in. Your face scrunches up as you give Steve this gaspy moan that he’ll never forget. Once he’s fully buried inside of you, there’s a hand clutching at your hip while the other comes to cup the back of your neck.

“Feels good?” There’s more pressure on him to get this right with you. You’re nodding instantly, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Some of the tension in the air being replaced with nerves as it hits you both that holy shit you’re fucking on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, feels really good. Do you, Stevie? Feel good?”

He’s giving you this goofy little smile, giving an experimental rock of his hips. “Feels - shit... Feels amazing.” Stopping short of telling you that he’s already pretty sure you were the best thing he’s ever felt. That might be a little too much.

Steve’s lips drag across yours, moaning into your mouth as he starts to build up a rhythm. Slow, deep strokes. He’s a little caught up in his own thoughts - Trying to make sure he doesn’t do too much since you’re still sensitive, trying to show off for you after years of talking up how good he was, trying desperately not to make a fool of himself.

You stroke along his chin before letting your hands fall down his chest. “Too much going on in that pretty head of yours.” Tightening your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his ass so he’s bottoming out in you. He’s choking out a moan, hips instinctively rocking the best they can against the pressure you’re putting on his body.

“Wanna do a good job - Wanna impress you.”

His hips buck deeper, making the two of you moan in unison. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers lacing in his hair as you drag him into another kiss. The two of you haven’t learned the other yet, how you both like to kiss and be kissed, so it’s sloppier than you wanted but it gets the job done. Steve’s grabbing onto your hip with one hand, clutching the counter with the other for stability as he deepens his motions.

You whimper at the new sensation, thighs losing their hold on his frame as he fucks into you with a new passion. Muttering out a broken string of praises and pleas as he chases his own orgasm. Steve’s burying his face in your neck, all you can hear anymore is the sound of him moaning mixed with his shaky breathing right by your ear.

“Wanna impress me, Baby? Can you come for me? Know you want to so bad... Show me how good I feel.”

You’re not totally sure where this side of you is coming from, but you know you did something right when Steve brokenly grunts out your name and his hips start to lose their pace. You start clenching yourself around his length, sneaking a hand between your bodies to toy with your own clit. It’s rare you finish during sex, yet here Steve was making you think you could come twice.

He’s pulling away from your neck, lips finding yours with a feverish intensity you weren’t expecting. It’s needy, primal even. You’re whimpering into the kiss, dragging your nails along Steve’s back with the hand that’s not between your thighs. It hits you by surprise, that tension building up once again as you cry out Steve’s name.

It takes every ounce of strength for him to not finish deep inside of you as you come undone. Instead he’s pulling out once he feels you relax, choking out your name as he strokes himself through his orgasm, watching as each drop lands against your fucked out pussy. Admiring how pretty you look like this, how much he likes when you look like you belong to him. He’s unwrapping his fingers from his cock, reaching forward without thinking to collect the mixture of you both. Thick on his fingers, he’s making eye contact with you for a moment before looking pointedly down at your lips.

You part your lips, eyes focused on his as Steve’s fingers now weigh heavy against your tongue. Getting right to work cleaning him up, moaning at the way you two taste together. His eyes gloss over, pulling his fingers from your mouth then stealing one last kiss.

The two of you stay close for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath and simultaneously letting the reality of the situation settle in. His forehead is pressed against yours. His hands lazily sliding along your thighs while yours are firm on his back.

Holy shit.

You just fucked Steve.

He silently gets to work cleaning the two of you up. Taking a moment to ponder between using a kitchen towel or a paper towel to wipe you down with - finally deciding that the paper towel was probably cleaner. He’s delicate with you. Catching your eye and waiting for the small nod of permission before reaching out to wipe your inner thighs. You grip his shoulder as he wipes at your core, heat rising to your cheeks before giggling out some apology about still being sensitive.

As if you need to apologize.

You watch, entranced by seeing him this up close, as he twists his head, pressing a small kiss to your fingers still resting on him, then stepping back and out of your touch. He toss the paper towels away before moving to grab the discarded cup of water from earlier. Filling it under the tap while he yanks up his pants much to your disappointment. It’s not an uncomfortable silence… Just the two of you trying to navigate what the hell comes next.

Steve takes a long drink of water and you let your eyes linger on the way a droplet finds its way down his adam’s apple before disappearing into the hair on his chest. Now that you’ve finally let yourself truly look at him, not just keep your guard up against admiring him... “You’re pretty, Steve Harrington.”

He’s blushing, choking a bit on his last sip of water. The half full glass is being offered your way and you use taking a drink of it to mask your entertainment at the sight of how flustered he got. Steve’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand then reaches over to squeeze your knee. “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.”

The glass is taken out of your hands once it’s empty, so you take that as your signal to hop off the counter. “We gotta deep clean this kitchen tomorrow. No way I’m gonna cook off these counters until I know we’re both off of them.” Now Steve would laugh, but you way overestimated how steady your legs were and land on the floor too unstable for your own good. You can hear him laughing behind you at the sight, reaching out to hold your waist and keep you steady.

You both start stumbling down the hallway, a mess of laughter and jokes and getting comfortable with each other once again. It’s not until you hit your bedroom door that you realize... What comes next? Is it bold of you to assume you two would sleep together? Does Steve even want to sleep next to you?

Glancing between the door, back at Steve, and towards his bedroom door - You decide to leave the decision up to him.

Easily navigating your dark room, you find your way to the bed and make a show of scooting all the way against the wall. Your door is still open, there’s plenty of space for Steve, it’s the best invite he could possibly get. So imagine your surprise when there’s nothing more than silence at the door before you hear him start to make his way towards his own room.

Not even a goodnight?

You sigh into the pillow, pulling your blanket tight around your body while squeezing your eyes shut. What the hell was that?

The fact that he didn’t even say goodnight was close to sending you into an overthinking spell - If it weren’t for the fact that seconds later you hear his bare feet padding down the hallway and Steve’s bursting into your room. “You always take up so much blanket I needed my own.”

“I do not! You always get hot while you sleep and kick it off, not my fault if I take advantage.”

He’s kicking something across the room, wincing in pain and stopping himself right before getting in bed. You can just make out him squinting and - “Holy shit, I think I just kicked your vibrator. Why was it so hard? I thought they would be like kinda squishy?” You’re squealing, pulling the blanket over your head to try and hide from the embarrassment.

“Steve Harrington! Shut up and get in bed or I’m going to lock you out!”

The bed dips besides you, Steve laughing while he wiggles his way under your blanket and draping his own across the two of you. “Fine, fine, Jesus Christ don’t lose your mind.” He’s pulling you into his chest, pressing a string of soft kisses against your shoulder. The two of you falling asleep easily.

Just know - Steve still wakes up with neither blanket in the morning.

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