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The Wheeler backyard had never looked like this—strung with fairy lights that glowed gold against the green summer trees, rows of white folding chairs set out on the lawn, and an arch woven with daisies and baby’s breath right where the old swing set used to stand. It was exactly the kind of wedding Karen Wheeler had been imagining since the day she had her first daughter.
Steve had thrown up for the third time in the last hour, rinsed his mouth out in the basement bathroom sink, and now he was pacing such a deep groove into the threadbare carpet that Dustin was half-convinced he’d wear a hole straight through to the foundation. His dress shirt clung to his back, his tie felt like it was trying to strangle him, and every time he glanced at the stairs his heart jumped into his throat.
Upstairs, Nancy was in her old bedroom, just as Karen had insisted—bride and groom sleep apart the night before the wedding, it’s tradition, she’d said firmly, even when Nancy had rolled her eyes and said they’d lived together for two years, for God’s sake. She’d ended up giving in anyway, and now she was sat up on her childhood bed with Robin, Max, and Holly, half-listening to them bicker over which pair of shoes went best with her dress.
Down in the basement, Mike was sprawled across the lumpy sofa, a half-eaten bag of Cheetos in one hand, watching Steve walk back and forth for the tenth time in five minutes.
“Will you chill out?” he said around a mouthful of orange dust. “You’re making me dizzy just looking at you.”
Steve stopped short, hands tangling in his hair. “Chill out? How am I supposed to chill out? What if she changes her mind? What if she’s already ran away? Climbed right out that window and started a whole new life? She could be halfway out of Indiana by now!” He lurched toward the stairs, already half-convinced he needed to sprint after her. “I have to go get her—”
Lucas caught him by the shoulder and hauled him back until he landed on the edge of the armchair. “Dude! Sit down! She’s upstairs, with the girls. And let’s be real—if she even tried to sneak out the window, Max would tackle her before she got one foot on the trellis.”
From the corner, Dustin nodded solemnly. “He’s right. She’s got a zero-tolerance policy for bride escapees.”
Steve let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand over his sweaty face. It was ridiculous. He knew it was ridiculous. But looking at the daisy arch through the basement window, knowing in an hour Nancy would be walking down the aisle toward him… some part of him still couldn’t believe this was actually real.
The basement door creaked open, and Robin hopped down the last step, brushing stray thread from her sleeve. She took one look at Steve—hair sticking up where he’d dragged his hands through it, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, eyes wide and wild—and sighed, leaning against the doorframe.
“Okay, so you look like you’re about to pass out,” she said, walking over to nudge his shoulder. “Everything okay down here, or do we need to hide a body?”
Steve sank his face into his hands for a second before looking up at her, voice small and tight. “I’m in way over my head here, Robin. Nancy wanted to elope. She said we should just go to Vegas, get hitched by a guy in an Elvis suit, skip all the fuss. But nooooo—I wanted the big wedding. I wanted the proper thing, the flowers and the guests and… all this.” He gestured vaguely at the decorated yard visible through the small window, then slumped back. “Is this how Princess Diana felt when she got married? Like the whole world’s watching and you’re one bad breath away from messing it all up?”
Robin just blinked at him for a full three seconds, then leaned down to grab his shoulders and give him a firm, no-nonsense shake.
“Okay first of all—you are not Princess Diana, and this is the Wheelers’ backyard, not St Paul’s Cathedral. No cameras, no royal titles, just Joyce’s famous potato salad and Mrs Wheeler already crying in the front row.” She paused, then softened, though her tone stayed sharp and steady. “And what are you even panicking about? Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are—just say the word. I’ll have you out the back door, in my car, and halfway to the highway before anyone even notices you’re gone.” She poked him hard in the chest. “But for the record? I will absolutely have to kick your ass for jilting Nance. And I’ll let Max help. She’s faster.”
Steve let out a shaky, wet-sounding laugh, and finally some of the tension left his shoulders. “No,” he said quietly. “No second thoughts. Never. Just… scared I don’t get to keep her.”
Robin’s expression melted completely then, and she pulled him into a quick, tight hug, careful not to wrinkle his suit. “You’re such a Dingus, do you know that,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
Steve’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but his fingers still twisted nervously in the hem of his suit jacket. “Is she okay up there? She’s not… getting second thoughts? Or regretting letting Karen talk her into all this tradition stuff?”
Robin’s whole face softened into that bright, teasingly fond smile she only ever got when she knew something amazing he didn’t. She leaned in, nudging his arm gently.
“Oh man. Wait ‘til you see her, Steve. She’s… she’s perfect.”
Steve let out a shaky breath, a tiny, wobbly smile tugging at his mouth. His voice dropped so quiet the boys on the couch could barely hear it,
"Yeah?" He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, eyes shiny. "God. I already know she’s perfect. Just… can’t believe she’s gonna be my wife.”
Dustin smacked Mike hard on the shoulder, nearly knocking the Cheeto bag out of his hand. “See?! Told you we should’ve gone and got Robin an hour ago! You said he’d ‘calm down eventually’—look at him now, he’s practically functional!”
Mike rubbed his shoulder with a scowl. “Ow! I was busy! And he was gonna be fine! …Eventually.”
Robin tapped his cheek lightly, already turning for the stairs. “Okay dingus, I have to get back up there, it’s almost time. You gonna be okay?”
Steve nodded fast, sucking in a deep breath and straightening his tie as best he could. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Go on—don’t keep her waiting.”
The sun hung warm and golden over the Wheeler lawn, every chair filled with familiar faces, but Steve barely saw any of them. He stood straight at the end of the flower-draped arch, suit smoothed down for the tenth time, gaze locked on the back door leading into the house. Every few seconds he’d shift his weight, suck in a huge shaky breath, and let it out slow, like he was trying to convince his own heart to stop hammering against his ribs.
Lucas, standing right beside him with Mike, leaned in quiet enough only Steve could hear, clapping him gently on the shoulder.
“You’ve got this, man. She’s three seconds away from being here. Just don’t trip over your words, yeah?”
Steve huffed a wobbly half-laugh, eyes still fixed on that door. “No promises.”
The soft strings swell, and every guest rises to their feet in one quiet rustle. Holly goes first, grinning so wide her cheeks dimple. Next comes Max, chin up and steady, glancing over to shoot Steve a quick smile. Robin follows, beaming bright, and then—there she is.
Nancy, on her father’s arm.
Steve’s lungs lock up. All the nausea, all the pacing, all the wild what-if fears vanish like smoke in the summer sun. The crowd, the music, the Wheeler house behind her—none of it matters anymore. There’s only her. His Nancy. His whole world, walking toward him in soft white, sunlight catching the lace of her dress, her hair falling just the way he’d always loved it.
Tears spill over before he can stop them, hot and fast down his cheeks. He doesn’t even try to wipe them away. She lifts her head and catches his eye, and her face lights up—the same smile that first made his chest ache all those years ago, warm and sure and entirely his—as she draws closer, step by step, until he can almost reach out and touch her.
Ted slows as they reach the arch, his usual quiet softening into something unreadable as he turns to Nancy. He gives her arm one last gentle squeeze, then shifts his gaze to Steve—who’s still openly crying, suit sleeves fisted tight at his sides.
“Take care of her,” Ted says, voice low and steady, no nonsense but sincere, as he carefully rests Nancy’s hand in Steve’s.
Steve nods so fast his shoulders shake, his fingers curling around hers like he’s scared to ever let go. “I promise. I swear I will.”
Then it’s just them, standing face to face, the music fading to a soft hum behind them. Nancy brushes a thumb over his wet cheek, her own eyes glistening, and her smile turns tender, teasing, exactly hers.
“Hi,” she whispers.
Steve lets out a breath that’s half laugh, half sob. “Hi. You… you look unbelievable. I mean—perfect. More than perfect. I forgot how to breathe the second I saw you.”
Nancy ducked her head, cheeks warming. “Thank you.” When she looked back up, her eyes swept over his suit, the crooked smile she’d fallen in love with, the nerves he was trying so hard to hide. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Steve let out a quiet laugh. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
She stepped closer, straightening his tie even though it didn’t need it. “You look incredibly handsome.” Her voice dropped. “I just wanted to make you work for it.”
Dustin stepped forward, adjusting the too-big collar of his own dress shirt and smoothing out the small folded card he’d prepared, his voice loud, clear, and impossibly serious—no trace of the usual cheeky chaos, just total pride.
“Welcome, everyone. We are gathered here today to celebrate the love between Steve and Nancy. You are the most important people in their lives, assembled from near and far to support them as they begin this new adventure together.”
He paused, glancing between the two of them, and softened.
“Friends, we are not here to mark the start of a brand new relationship, but to acknowledge the next great chapter in their lives.” He looked directly at Steve then. “Steve, do you take Nancy to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish her through all of life's adventures?”
Steve squeezed Nancy’s hands so tight his knuckles went white, didn’t even hesitate. “I do.”
Dustin nodded, turning to her. “Nancy, do you take Steve to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and cherish him through all of life's adventures?”
Nancy beamed, swiping one last tear from Steve’s cheek with her thumb, and said bright and sure: “I do.”
Dustin smiled, gesturing gently between them. "Steve and Nancy have chosen to declare their love and commitment to each other through personal vows. Steve, please share your promises with Nancy."
Steve took a shaky breath, brushing his thumb over her knuckles where their hands were still laced together, his voice soft but steady—only wavering a little when he looked straight into her eyes.
"Nance," he started, and swallowed hard, like he still couldn't quite believe he got to say this out loud. "I used to think love was something simple. Something easy, something that didn't ask you to fight for it, or bleed for it, or stay up all night wondering if the person you cared about would ever look at you the same way. But then there was you. And nothing about us has ever been simple. We've run from monsters, we've yelled at each other, we've gone years thinking we'd missed our chance."
He paused, laughing quiet and wet. "But you were always the one I came back to. Every time. So I promise you this: I'll never make you feel like you have to be brave all on your own. I'll listen when you're furious, I'll hold you when you're scared, and I'll never, ever try to make you smaller to fit somewhere. I'll carry your bags, I'll learn to stop panicking before we even know what's wrong, I'll plant all the daisies you want in every yard we ever have. Through every quiet morning and every crazy adventure, through all the ordinary days and all the scary ones—you're my choice. Always. You're my best thing. And I get to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
Dustin turned toward her, voice warm. “Nancy, please share your promises with Steve.”
Nancy’s smile softened, her thumb brushing gently over the back of his hand to wipe away the faint tremor in his fingers. Her voice was clear and steady, only breaking just at the edges, like she was trying not to cry too hard to speak.
“Steve,” she said, “I’ve spent most of my life feeling like I had to be sharp, like I had to carry everything myself—because if I didn’t, who would? I thought needing someone meant being weak. And then you showed up. Not as someone who tried to protect me from the world, but as someone who stood right beside me while I fought it.”
She laughed a little, tearful and bright. “You’ve seen me at my angriest, my messiest, my most terrified—and you never once looked away. You never asked me to be softer, or quieter, or anything less than exactly who I am. So I promise you: I’ll always see you. Not just the guy who drives the kids around, or the one who throws himself in front of danger, but the boy who still gets nervous before he does something big, who cares so much it hurts, who’s kinder than he ever gives himself credit for.
I promise I’ll chase every dream with you, even the ones you’re too scared to say out loud. I’ll hold your hand when you’re nervous, I’ll make fun of you when you’re being ridiculous, and I’ll never let you think for a second that you don’t belong here—with me. We’ve already survived the worst the world could throw at us. Now I want all the rest. All the quiet days, all the silly mistakes, all of it. You’re my home, Steve Harrington. And I choose you, every single time.”
Dustin continued, his voice ringing clear and proud across the lawn:
“The wedding ring is an unbroken circle, symbolizing an unending and everlasting love. It is an outward sign of the lifelong promise you are making to each other today. As you place the ring on your partner's finger, please repeat after me.”
He paused, watching as first Nancy, then Steve, took the small bands from Robin’s outstretched palm.
“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion. May it remind you always of the vows we have made to each other today.”
They spoke the words in unison, soft but sure, their fingers brushing gently as they slid the gold bands on.
“Now, by the authority vested in me by the state of Indiana, and the promises you have made here today, it is my absolute joy to pronounce you husband and wife. Steve—you may now kiss your bride.”
The cheers swelled before the last word even left his mouth, but Steve didn’t hear a single one. He curled one hand around Nancy’s waist, the other cupping her cheek, and kissed her like he’d been waiting a lifetime for it—sweet, sure, and so bright it felt like the sun itself leaned in closer. Nancy laughed against his lips, her arms looping tight around his neck, and for a moment there was nothing but them, the flowers, and the sound of the people they loved most cheering them on.
They pulled apart to thunderous cheers, grinning through teary eyes as they turned to face their friends and family. The second they stepped away from the arch, everyone surged forward, hands full of tiny daisy confetti and pale pink petals, tossing it high into the air so it rained down all around them—gold and white catching the sun, sticking to Steve’s suit shoulders and the lace of Nancy’s dress. Robin whooped loud enough to drown out the band, Max wolf-whistled, and Dustin pumped his fist in the air like they’d just won the biggest battle of all.
Hand fast in hand, they laughed as they walked through the crowd, ducking a little as Holly launched a whole handful straight at their faces. At the edge of the lawn stood the big cream marquee Ted had spent three whole days putting up—grumbling the entire time about “all this unnecessary fuss” while Karen handed him tools and double-checked every last peg. Now its canvas sides glowed soft in the afternoon light, and through the open flaps they could see round tables draped in white, jars of wildflowers, and strings of those same fairy lights strung crisscross along the ceiling.
Once everyone had found their seats and the clinking of glasses died down, Dustin hopped up onto the small stage, adjusting his glasses and tapping the microphone until the feedback quieted.
“Alright, settle down!” he called, grinning. “I know I already married them, but I get first dibs on talking too. Lucky you.” He turned to Steve and Nancy, sitting hand in hand at the head table. “Steve, you’ve been my favourite person to lecture since I was thirteen. You’ve driven us everywhere, taken every hit we couldn’t, and cried at our graduation, even if you swear you didn’t. And Nancy—you’re the bravest, sharpest person I know. You’ve never let anyone tell you what to be. Together? You’re the only two people on Earth stubborn enough to keep choosing each other through everything. So here’s to Steve and Nancy: may your monsters only ever be bad TV and burnt toast. Cheers!”
Mike stepped up, wiping his palms on his dress pants, and rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it took effort—but his grin gave him away.
“Okay, fine, my turn. First off, Nancy is the most annoying person on the planet. She used to hide my D&D dice, snitch all the time to Mom, and once threatened to tell my friends I still slept with a nightlight when I was thirteen.”
“But…” he went on, softer now, “she’s also the first person who ever stood up for me when kids picked on me. She’s the reason I learned to stop running when things get scary. And for the longest time, I didn’t think anyone would ever be good enough for her. Then Steve came along. And yeah—he’s an idiot. He once he spent forty minutes bitching over us hiding his hairspray.”
“But he’s our idiot. He shows up. Every single time. Nancy, you deserve someone who’ll keep up with you, not try to slow you down—and that’s him. Steve… welcome to the family. You’re stuck with her now. No takebacks. Cheers!”
Then Robin bounded up, leaning into the mic like she was sharing a secret. “Let’s be real—Steve spent years convinced he’d messed this up forever. I had to listen to him mope over Nancy Wheeler more than I’ve listened to him complain about bad hair days. Nance, thank you for finally making him shut up about it. Steve? Don’t you dare mess this up, or I’ll kick your ass. Cheers to the happy couple!”
When the applause faded, the lights dimmed just a little, and a soft, slow melody drifted out over the marquee. Steve stood, held out his hand to Nancy, and led her to the empty space in the centre of the room.
His palm was still warm and steady in hers as they stepped into the sway. Steve rested one hand gently at her waist, her other curled around his shoulder, and for a second he just looked at her like he still couldn’t believe it.
“Hi again,” he whispered, making her laugh quiet against his chest.
“Hi,” she whispered back. “You’re not nervous anymore?”
“Not even a little,” he said, and he spun her slow, lace fluttering around her ankles. “I’ve got you. That’s all I ever needed.”
Outside the marquee the sun dipped low, painting the sky pink and gold, and inside the fairy lights glowed soft above them. Somewhere, Dustin started cheering, and soon the whole room joined in—but Steve and Nancy only had eyes for each other, moving together like they’d been dancing this exact dance their whole lives.
Once the cake had been cut and plates cleared, everyone spilled back out onto the lawn as the sun dipped low, painting the sky soft peach and lavender. Nancy climbed up onto the lowest step of the porch, turning her back to the crowd, bouquet of cream roses and daisies held high over her shoulder.
“Ready?” she called over her shoulder, grinning.
“Just throw it, already!” Max yelled.
Nancy laughed, took a quick breath, and tossed the bouquet high into the air. For a second it spun bright against the pink sky—Holly lunged, Robin ducked out of the way, and then Max stepped forward with easy, practiced speed, reached up, and caught it perfectly in both hands before anyone else could get close.
A roar went up from the crowd. Max just rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed pink as she tucked the flowers against her chest, glancing over at Lucas with a tiny, secret smile she tried and failed to hide.
Steve slipped his suit jacket over one arm, wrapped the other around Nancy’s waist, and leaned in with that soft, lopsided grin she loved so much.
“Ready to go, Mrs Harrington?” he murmured, nodding toward the car idling by the gate, their bags already loaded in the back. “We have a flight to catch.”
Nancy’s eyes lit up, bright and giddy as she looped her arms around his neck. “Mrs Harrington,” she repeated, testing the name like it was something precious, before laughing and pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips. “I love the sound of that.”
Behind them, the guests whooped and waved and Max raised the bouquet in a mock salute. Steve waved back once, then turned Nancy toward the car, hand laced tight in hers, and for the first time all day, he didn’t feel nervous at all. He just felt home.
Steve led her down the driveway, their fingers still tangled together, past the fairy lights glowing soft in the dusk. Parked right on the driveway was his BMW, plastered all over with streamers and hand-scrawled signs that blared JUST MARRIED in bright red paint—Robin’s doing, no doubt.
He walked around to the passenger side first, brushed a stray petal off the handle, and opened the door for her with that same old, charming little smile he’d used since he was seventeen. Nancy ducked inside, arranging her dress carefully over her knees, and smiled up at him as he closed the door gently, then hurried round to the driver’s seat.
The engine purred to life, and Steve gave one last wave to the crowd still gathered by the marquee—Robin leaning against Mike’s shoulder, Dustin jumping up and down, Lucas slinging an arm around Max as she held the daisy bouquet. Then he shifted into gear, and they pulled slowly away, the tin cans tied to the bumper clattering merrily behind them all the way down the street.
The warm salt-kissed breeze of Hawaii wrapped around them as they stepped into their resort, the air sweet with plumeria and jasmine. Steve unlocked the door to their ocean-view suite, pushed it open wide, but stepped sideways to block her path before she could cross the threshold. Before Nancy could react, he bent down, slipped one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her easily right off her feet.
Nancy yelped in surprise, then giggled, her arms looping tight around his neck. “What are you doing?”
Steve grinned, shifting her gently in his hold. “It’s tradition, remember? Can’t break the rules now.”
“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” she said, shaking her head, but her eyes were shining bright with love.
He leaned in and kissed her slow and sweet, the golden evening light spilling through the suite’s open balcony doors behind him. When he pulled back, his voice was soft, sure, and completely hers. “And you’re beautiful, Nancy Harrington.”
He carried her over the threshold, kicking the door shut behind them, and for the first time in a long time, there was no fear, no monsters, no endless what-ifs—just the sound of the ocean waiting outside, and the rest of their lives stretching out bright ahead.
Steve laughed softly as he stepped further into the room, and with a playful little heave, tossed her gently onto the soft, sun-dappled bed—bounces light on the mattress, her dress fanning out like spilled cream around her hips.
He didn’t look away for even a heartbeat as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slow and deliberate, his dark gaze never leaving hers. The fabric slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor, and he stood there for a long moment, just looking at her like he still couldn’t believe she was his, all the way his.
Then he stepped forward, knelt on the edge of the bed, and climbed over her, bracing his weight on his forearms either side of her so he wouldn’t crush her. He leaned down slowly, his nose brushing hers first, before his lips found hers—soft at first, then deeper, slow and burning and so full of everything they’d carried, fought for, and finally found. Nancy’s fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, her heels drawing up lightly against the back of his thighs, and for a while there was nothing but the warm salt air drifting in from the balcony, the sound of waves far below, and the two of them finally, perfectly home.
Steve pulled back just enough to rest his forehead lightly against hers, his breath warm and unsteady against her skin, and murmured thick and soft, “You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful.”
His fingers moved slowly to the ties and buttons at the back of her dress, easing the fabric down over her shoulders and letting it fall away to pool softly at her waist before he slipped it completely free, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. He pressed open-mouthed kisses down the line of her throat, over her collarbone, lower and slower, every touch deliberate and reverent, tracing every inch of her like he wanted to memorise every shape and shiver. He followed the curve of her ribs, her hips, all the way down to her thighs, lingering where her skin felt softest and warmest.
Then he kissed his way slowly back up the inside of her thighs, his movements gentle but sure, his gaze flicking up to hers one last time before his fingers curled lightly under the waistband of her panties and drew them slowly down and away.
Steve’s breath fanned hot over her skin as he kissed slow, reverent paths up the soft curve of her inner thigh—lingering at the sensitive dip just below her hip, nipping playfully then soothing the spot with his tongue, moving higher inch by torturous inch until his warm breath brushed over her most sensitive spot. Nancy’s fingers, which had been tangled loosely in his hair, tightened abruptly; her hips jerked up just a little, and she let out a sharp, shaky exhale that melted straight into a soft, broken sigh, her head tipping back deep into the pillows.
“Steve—” she breathed, her voice already thin and unsteady.
He didn’t make her wait any longer. He pressed his mouth to her gently at first, testing, and Nancy’s whole body arched off the mattress, a louder, keening cry falling from her lips. He took his time, no rush at all—he’d waited all day for this, for her. He swept his tongue slow and sure, varying the pressure when she gasped and twisted closer, knowing exactly what made her breath catch and her thighs tighten around his shoulders. When he circled softly then sucked gently, Nancy cried out his name loud and clear, her heels digging lightly into the bedsheets, one hand flying to cover her mouth before she tangled it back into his hair, tugging just enough to urge him closer.
Pleasure coiled tight and bright in her belly, building faster and brighter than she’d ever felt it. Every careful stroke of his tongue sent sparks shooting up her spine; she shivered so hard her shoulders shook, her hips rolling restlessly against his mouth without her even thinking about it. “Oh god—Steve, please—more—” she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut, her other hand clutching the bedspread so tight her knuckles turned white. He answered by deepening every movement, steady and devoted, keeping his gaze lifted every so often just to watch her—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps—like seeing her unravel was the greatest gift he could ever get.
The tension snapped all at once. She cried out his name, long and bright and trembling, her whole body bowing up toward him, her thighs locking tight around his head as the waves of pleasure rolled through her, one after another, until she went soft and boneless, sinking back into the pillows with little hitches of breath. He kept going slow and gentle until the last shivers faded, pressing one last soft, lingering kiss to her sensitive skin before lifting his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and looking up at her with warm, dark eyes, his smile soft and utterly adoring.
Steve pushed himself up the bed, his elbows bracketing her sides, and kissed her hard—hungry and warm, tasting like her and salt and the sweet, lingering echo of her pleasure. When he pulled back just far enough to breathe, he leaned over to rummage in his toiletry bag on the floor, fingers closing around one of the foil wrappers he’d packed.
He turned back to the bed, but Nancy reached out before he could tear it open, her fingers brushing his to take the condom right out of his hand. She tossed it aside, it skittering softly across the wood to land forgotten by the balcony doors.
“We don’t need that anymore,” she said, quiet but sure, her eyes locked straight on his.
Steve froze for a heartbeat, completely stunned, his breath catching in his throat. Then the shock melted away, and the brightest, most brilliant smile she’d ever seen broke across his face—crinkling the corners of his eyes, soft and wild and so full of joy it made her chest ache. He leaned down to kiss her again, deeper than before, like he could never get close enough, his voice rough and thick against her lips.
“Fuck—Nancy, I love you so much. So, so much.”
She shifted then, sitting up on her knees between his spread legs, her hands sliding down his warm chest to hook into the waistband of his dress pants. She pushed them down slowly, taking his boxers right along with them, and his hard cock sprang free, heavy and flushed and bobbing lightly against his stomach. Steve’s head fell back with a sharp gasp, his hands coming up to tangle loosely in her hair as she leaned in, wrapping her soft lips around him and taking him slowly into her mouth.
Steve’s breath punched out of him in a ragged groan, his fingers tightening gently in her hair, no pressure, just something to hold onto as every thought in his head dissolved into nothing but the warm, wet heat of her. He’d imagined this moment a hundred times today, but nothing came close to the real thing—how her lips stretched soft and tight around him, how her tongue swept slow and deliberate along the underside, how she hummed low in her throat when he shifted, sending sharp, perfect sparks straight up his spine.
“God—Nance—” he choked out, his hips stuttering forward just an inch, helpless. “That’s—fuck, that feels so good—”
She set a steady, lazy rhythm, taking him deeper until he brushed the back of her throat, then pulling back to swirl her tip around the sensitive head, lapping up the bead of precome that glistened there before taking him deep again. Steve’s eyes fluttered shut, his head tipping back, a string of broken, messy praises falling from his lips—you’re perfect, that’s it, my girl, fuck I love you—his free hand resting light on her shoulder, like he was still half afraid he’d wake up and find this was all just a dream. When she swirled her tongue faster and sucked just right, he gasped loud, his thigh muscles tensing hard.
“Baby—Nancy, wait—” he panted, tugging gently at her hair to pull her back just a little, his chest heaving, face flushed bright and shiny with sweat. “If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last another five seconds. I need—need to be inside you. Please.”
Nancy pulled off him with a soft, wet pop, her lips swollen and eyes dark and glowing, and she crawled right back up his body, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to his jaw. “Then have me,” she whispered.
Steve rolled her smoothly onto her back, bracing himself above her, his gaze sweeping over every inch of her like he wanted to memorise every detail forever. He lined himself up at her entrance, and when Nancy wrapped her legs tight around his hips, he pushed forward slow, sinking into her inch by inch until he was buried deep, pressed tight against her.
They both gasped at the same time, Steve dropping his forehead to rest against hers, his whole body trembling.
He started slow at first, deep, careful strokes, letting them both savour the feeling—no barrier, no hurry, just skin on skin, warm and right and entirely theirs. Nancy arched up to meet every thrust, her nails dragging soft down his back, her cries soft and breathless against his ear, whispering his name over and over like it was the only word she knew. He picked up the pace gradually, his hips rolling harder, deeper, every movement full of love.
Pleasure built hot and fast between them, coiling tight in their bellies. Steve tangled their fingers together, pressing their joined hands into the mattress beside her head, his eyes never leaving hers. “I love you,” he groaned, over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you—my wife. My Nancy.”
Nancy cried out, her back bowing off the bed as her own climax crashed over her, her walls clamping tight around him, and Steve followed her right over the edge with a broken shout of her name, spilling deep inside her, every muscle locking up as wave after wave of pleasure washed through him. He kept moving slow, shallow strokes until the last shivers faded, then collapsed gently down on top of her, careful not to crush her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, both of them breathing hard, hearts beating fast in the same rhythm.
For a long time the only sounds were their slowing breaths and the soft crash of waves outside the balcony. Eventually Steve rolled carefully onto his side, pulling her tight against his chest, kissing the top of her head, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips—soft, endless little kisses. Nancy tangled her legs with his, resting her hand over his heart, feeling it beat steady and strong beneath her palm.
“Mrs Harrington,” he murmured, quiet and happy, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. “I could get used to saying that forever.”
Nancy smiled, pressing closer. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, Mr Harrington. Forever.”