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Steve Harrington had the most impressive mouth you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting.
He talked smooth, quick to flirt—to compliment and praise. Never lied to you. He could talk you up just as quickly as he can talk you down. Always knew the right words at the perfect time. Could tease and make a semi-impressive joke. Perfect pink and flushed lips, the way the ends of his mouth quirked up into a smile was hypnotizing. How he’d pout to get his way. The way he could kiss any worry from your head when you truly need it.
Not once in your life had you met a man with such a perfect mouth.
Except, no one is perfect. Especially Steve Harrington, despite how much he’s tried to convince himself of such. And this week was full of—you’d be nice with your wording here—slip ups from Steve.
And by Friday night, you were pissed off. Steve Harrington had fucked up so bad that you hadn’t even seated yourself to hear the spiel of sweet talk and apologies that usually got him out of the doghouse. Steve Harrington had slipped up so badly on his picture-perfect relationship that you weren’t sure he was worthy of this redemption.
And he knew. Oh god, he knew. The phone's ring had practically become white noise at this point in the night. Steve was only making it worse, with every sweet name and I’m sorry and I love you that spilled from his mouth like a promise made you grow more agitated. Voice message after voice message, you were sure he was two or three away from filling up your voicemail box.
“I’m sorry, baby, I really am… You know I mean it, honestly. I’ve been trying, okay, trying to you know, be better and uh, all that. Um, I love you, I mean it. Please just call me back, we can talk. Please?”
And so on and so forth.
You listened to the slew of sweet nothings coming from the phone, frustrations growing and your eyes almost found a perfect place rolling around in your head. Shaking your head, you almost accepted the defeat and rolled over in your bed.
Steve called again, you scoffed and gave mercy on him as you picked up the phone.
“What?” You started.
“I’m sorry, really, ya’ gotta hear me out here, please?” Steve started to ramble, already breathless. “I miss you, sweetheart. I’m just not feeling on top of it recently, but I love you—god, I love you so much. Can we just figure this all out, please? Will you at least just give me that?”
You knew Steve Harrington in and out at this point. It was hard not to when he lay out so openly and devastatingly vulnerable for you. You had to be completely deaf to miss the small amount of attitude laced in his voice still.
You tried to stifle the scoff that left your mouth, “too late to figure it out, Harrington.”
Steve was silent for a moment.
“Look, Steve. I know you’ve been hit in the head a lot throughout high school but you’d have to be brain-dead to not figure this one out yourself.”
“Come on, baby. Let me explain, let’s talk” Steve had started to sound flat out frustrated, confused. It was honestly starting to offend you, yet he continued. “I love you, please? Let me love you. Let me make it up to you, you know I always do. My sweet, sweet girl…”
You laughed, an honest to god laugh. And you hoped Steve felt embarrassed. “Nu-uh. No sugar talking your way out of this one, babe. If you're gonna do this, you're gonna do it in person—right now. Put all that loving where your mouth is or I’m done.”
Then the line dropped. And honestly, with the track record coming from Steve as of tonight. You didn’t expect much. For the first time since Steve had begun pursuing you, you didn’t expect anything at all. And you were not going to get desperate now, no, not ever.
Steve somehow materialized in your apartment in the next 8 minutes, which was a new record. Breathless, messy, and scared. He had entered your room ready with the speech of apology. Sweetening you up by saying he missed you so much, I’m so stupid, baby.
With every word, you grew more frustrated and agitated. How he couldn’t tell by your growing silence was beyond you, until Steve had leaned in for one of his apology kisses and your head swerved back.
“You really think you deserve that, Harrington?”
Those flush pink lips parted slightly, pouting with those great big brown and sad puppy dog eyes. All the works. A whisper of your name left his mouth, “I’m sorry, honey, I really am—“
“If you say I love you one more time I’m gonna kick you in the balls.” You cut him off, Steve responds with the most eager nod of his life. Hopefully, the boy before you had started to grow scared enough. Your eyes travel up and down his body, sizing him up like a snake ready for its next meal. Steve felt like he was shaking, open and ready for whatever you decided he deserved. “Now you’re gonna make it up to me, like you promised on the phone, yeah.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” The words rushed out of his mouth eager and willing, Steve braced himself for whatever came next.
“Take your shirt off.”
A beat. “What?”
“Take your shirt off.” You repeated.
Steve wasn’t sure what punishment this was. But of course, he complied. Getting the piece of fabric off and over his head in an instant, discarded it somewhere in your room and out of sight.
You watched closely, his every movement and flex of muscles. You’d never get used to seeing his broad shoulders, covered in a constellation of freckles. His beautiful waist and tummy, that happy trail leading right down there. Steve had always been so sweet and delicious that it made you dizzy.
The back of your knees touched your bed, you watched Steve strip. Once he looked at you again, ready and willing, waiting for whatever you wanted from him. Steve had been looking at you as if you hung the star, and it took a lot of self-control not to smile sweetly at him.
Steve knew the look you were giving him all too well, the way your eyelids lowered slightly, the way they lingered. He could practically hear your thoughts and they scared him more than anything right now.
A single finger hooked around his pants loop, asking to pull him in and to have him. Steve practically falls into your touch, your lips fall on his and it’s enough of an invitation for Steve to smile into your lips, he was so sweet with his hands raising up to cradle your face.
Steve doesn’t notice your hands go low, a soft breath against you as you deepen this kiss, turning your head to get as close as you can. Your fingers find his belt buckle, unlatching expertly.
His hands fall from your jaw, to your neck and shoulders. And his grasp hovers over your waist, you feel the ghost of a tickle before you aggressively tug the belt from his pants. Steve jerks at the sudden movement, watching you fold the leather together.
The smugness on Steve's face wiped off and replaced itself with confusion the second you grabbed both of his hovering, eager hands and pulled both behind his back. Wrapping his wrist together and binding them with his own belt.
“Where’d you learn that huh? What’s this about, sweetheart?” Steve asks you, wiggling and rubbing his skin against the familiar leather.
“You said you wanna make it up to me, yeah?” You continue to fiddle with the belt, making sure it stays put.
Steve nodded.
“Well,” you did one final tug, Steve winced slightly at the sudden strain against his wrist. “You just love to talk your way out of trouble, yeah? You and your mouth…”
Your head tilted up, Steve could feel your breath against his lips as you leaned in ever so slightly. Enough that Steve would have to move less than an inch to connect.
“You’re gonna use that mouth to get out of this one, lover boy. And only your mouth.”
“Nothing else?” Steve asked.
“Nothing else.”
Steve nodded, in a love-sick daze. It was cute and a little pathetic.
You smiled so sweetly at him, a smile hidden by a smugness that you knew Steve was way too into this to ever escape from. You looked him up and down once again and could practically feel his entire body buzzing.
“On your knees, Harrington.” You ordered.
Steve hesitated for a moment. This was new, the bossiness. He was more than familiar with a sort of defiance from you, being a brat under the sheets, nothing Steve Harrington couldn’t handle. But this was different, you were in control and Steve had surrendered in a way he’s never done in his life. He’s never felt more possessed.
But god, by the way his jeans started to stiffen, Steve was ready for this ride. So willing.
“Yes ma’am” he lowered down slowly, making sure to keep his eyes on you the entire way down.
You sat down on the edge of your bed, peering down at the boy kneeling in front of you. His shoulders flexed against his restraints. You pressed a kiss to his lips, not allowing him to indulge in you before pulling back. Slowly, leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbows.
Steve whispered your name, a plea coming from past his lips. You hadn’t even gotten to the good part and he already seemed desperate, the strain in his jeans growing increasingly uncomfortable.
“Yes?” You offered him. “What is it?”
“I want you.” He breathes, “bad, please.”
“I know, honey.” You said, almost mocking him.
Your hands fell to your own waist, rubbing at the skin under your t-shirt, down to the front of your thighs. Steve was captivated by the sight, salivating like an animal watching its dinner. Your eyes hadn’t left his, teasing him—testing him.
Steve's mouth gaped open, almost drooling as your hand started to shimmy your shorts down your legs. Dragging out the action, just to make your boy suffer more.
“Please,” he whined.
You finished getting those shorts off, and Steve noticed the eggshell white lace panties hidden beneath. The sight tortured him, all he wanted was to lurch forward and remind you how much he did love you.
“That bad?” You hum. Bringing your foot up to his shoulder, pressing your heel into his muscles. Steve shuddered under your touch, almost leaning into it.
Steve hummed, nodding. The white in his eyes glossed as he looked up at you.
“Come on, then.”
The release was physical, his lips found your calf in a moment. Pressing kisses to your soft skin, desperate eyes not leaving yours. You ached, you are not immune to the charm of Steve Harrington and the want that comes with it, your hips buckled slightly as Steve dragged his spit up and past your knees. Pausing at your under thigh, still keeping his eyes locked in yours.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. You smiled at him, but you felt he wasn’t deserving of a response yet. Twitching your eyebrows up, daring him to keep going.
Steve kept littering kisses on your thighs, switching to another one with a slow ease. It lit a fire in your stomach, tickling your core as he crept closer to that sensitive inner skin.
“So pretty. So, so pretty… my pretty girl.” Steve mumbled, eyes trailing from your thigh, to your core, up your body, and onto you. “Can I?”
You hummed a small yes, barely audible but Steve was practically searching for permission—begging.
His breath hovered above your laced, covered core, trying to keep it under control despite your body betraying you, hips bucking. Steve grinned against your skin as he pressed an open-mouth kiss to you, feeling the damp fabric under his lips.
Steve nipped at the fabric, blowing on you. Kissing up until he reached the edge of your panties only a few inches below your belly button. Steve snuck in a few pecks to your stomach before his teeth caught the fabric and he started to tear the damp fabric off of your wet pussy. You nudged your hips up, helping him slide it past your hips and off your legs.
Once the fabric dropped to the floor, Steve kissed you all the way back up. Muttering sweet nothings under his breath, “My girl, so beautiful and sweet.” He’s kissed into your thigh. “So good…”
“Take what you want, Steve.” You told him. Hiding your needs and wants under his punishment. Your heels still stayed hooked on his shoulder, holding back the urge to pull him in.
Steve was ahead of you, pressing his mouth to you, licking up your sweet slit in between your thighs. Kissing the bud of your clit and bringing his tongue back down, blowing on the wetness.
A small whine left your lips, and Steve continued. Pressing his open mouth to your full cunt, letting his tongue explore all over you. Feeling his soft, brown hair brush against your thighs, you grab a handful and tug slightly.
The groan that came from Steve's mouth was guttural, vibrating against your core and making your whole body shudder. Bucking your hips again and a moan escaping past your lips.
“Steve…” you moaned.
“I got you, honey." Steve sighed against your clit, breathless with a soaking wet chin. “I’ll make you feel so good, make up for it. Make up for being such a jerk to my pretty girl.”
Steve rambled on before continuing to eat you as his life depended on it. His hands still bound behind his back, not allowing him the freedom to hold your legs apart to find himself deeper in your pussy. You moaned his name, gasping while your legs found themselves tighter around his head.
Finally, Steve just pushed your thighs away with his head, slightly frustrated as he just pushed himself deeper into your core. Licking up and down faster, focusing on the bundle of nerves, your hands raked and tugged through his hair as he felt your pussy grasp around nothing.
You wanted him badly. More than he could imagine and despite the lewd noises leaving your mouth, you needed more. But Steve knew you weren’t gonna give him that tonight, so he licked and sucked at your clit. Riding in the high and letting you push his head closer, nose rubbing against your skin. You were so close, he could tell, you didn’t even have to say it out loud.
“Come on, Steve. Give it to me, I want it.” You whined, straight up grinding into his face.
Steve moaned into you, the vibration of him on you sent you over the edge. Eyebrows knotted together, back arching into him and grasping at his locks. Steve smiled as his tongue flicked at your clit, feeling your hips grow more and more restless.
“Steve, I’m gonna come. Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.” You moaned. And Steve wouldn’t even dream of it with the sound coming from you, music to his ears.
Steve sucked hard, swirling the tip of his tongue around and you were gone. Far, far gone. Yelling out a moan, gasping for his name. Steve didn’t let up, continuing with you. Letting the pleasure rush in and take hold of you, Steve just guides you through the high.
“Breath, my love.” Steve cooed, out of breath, and rested his warm cheek against your thigh. “Come on, pretty girl. Breathe.”
You smiled, chest heaving as you breathed. As Steve said. Even when you were pissed and frustrated he still kept up his sweet caring for you. Your eyes opened, the ceiling seemed slightly dizzy.
Finding the strength to prop yourself back up on your bed, staring down at one pussy-drunk Steve. Chin dripping in spit and your juices. His hair a huge mess and his cheek rubbed against your soft thighs, soothing you since his hands were still not allowed.
“How’d I do?” Steve asks you, once he notices a coherent expression of life from you.
You laughed at him, humming, “7/10”
“Oh, bull—“ Steve scoffs, grin dancing on his lips. “Did I at least make it up to you?”
A shit eating grin breaks out on your face, and Steve senses trouble when he can see it. You shoot a playful glare down at him “Hmm, maybe if you wanna hop up on the bed and let me on top.
“Hands still tied?” Steve asks, cheeky as ever.
“Obviously.”
Steve licks his lips, looking you up and down before shifting in his seat. “Can I change my pants at least?”
You perk up, pulling yourself up to catch a glimpse of behind him below the chest. His knees were parted and straddling your carpet before your bed, jeans ready to break against the strain in between his thighs. And a large wet spot coming from his crotch.
Smirking, “You can definitely take ‘em off, maybe not the next part though.”
“Yes ma’am.”