#thecreelhouse

[stuffedwithsteve]

Needed distraction today from *gestures wildly at everything* and this was a perfect way to do it.

crystal clear

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: 14k (i am so sorry)

Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.

This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!

CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!

A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.

“Is it weird yet?”

The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.

You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.

“Isn’t this kinda weird?”

The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?

Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.

“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”

 “So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”

You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.

Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.

You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.

“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”

Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.

He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.

“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”

“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”

Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.

“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.

“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”

Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”

You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”

He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”

“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately. I swear.”

You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about. 

He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”

“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.” 

“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”

You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”

Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”

With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”

You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”

“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”

Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself.  “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”

Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”

Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.

Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?

“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”

“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”

“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.

Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.

“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.

You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.

“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.

“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.

“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”

When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”

“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”

“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”

 “I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.

“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”

Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.

You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”

“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”

Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.

···························

A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.

In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests. 

What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.

Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.

All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.

“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”

You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.

“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears. 

Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”

His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”

Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?” 

You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”

Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”

So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes. 

“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”

You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”

Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.

Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.

“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.

Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.

Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.

One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—

“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”

You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”

He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.

“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”

The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.

You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.

When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.

He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.

Steve just fucking shrugs.

“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.

You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”

As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”

“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”

“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”

You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.

“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”

Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.

“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”

You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”

“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”

You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.

“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”

“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.

“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”

That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.

“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”

He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.

”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.

What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?

There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.

Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”

Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.

“You can look, y’know.”

Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—

Wait.

You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.

You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”

Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.

“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.

“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”

“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”

Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.

“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.

He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.

“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.

Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.

“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”

Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.

You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?

Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”

Apparently, you think out loud now.

“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.

Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”

You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”

He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.

Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?

“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter. 

“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”

“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.

“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”

So much for that.

It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”

You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”

His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—” 

“That’s a compliment, I promise!” 

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. 

“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break. 

“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.

Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.

Two can play that game.

You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.

“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”

In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes. 

You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls. 

As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”

Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”

His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.

While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole. 

He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.

You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.

“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.

Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, ���Swallow.”

With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.

You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.

···························

The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.

In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.

Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”

You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.

The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.

“Stevie…” 

“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”

You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”

“More,” is all you can rasp out.

“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.

“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 

“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.

“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.

His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.” 

It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly. 

Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”

As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.

···························

In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.

“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”

“So… put new batteries in?”

“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”

You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.

“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.

“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.

“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”

Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”

Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.

Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”

“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”

When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.

You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”

“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle. 

“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”

“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout. 

You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.

With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship. 

Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.

You’re just friends.

“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”

“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”

“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”

“You’re the worst.”

“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.

“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”

You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.

“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”

“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”

“I’m already touching you.”

“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.

Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.

“Okay, so what do you mean?”

Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.

“I didn’t say— ”

“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”

Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.

His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.

“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.

“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.

You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.

“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”

You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.

But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.

Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”

You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.

“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”

Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated. 

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is. 

“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you. 

What the fuck is he hiding?

“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.

“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”

You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”

One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.

“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”

Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.

This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.

In fact, you might like this the most.

“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before. 

“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.

“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.

“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.

It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.

Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”

You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.

“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”

It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.

“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”

Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.

By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.

···························

“Why am I taking the backroads again?”

“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”

Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks. 

“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”

You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”

“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”

“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”

“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”

“I do!”

You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.

“H- hey!”

You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”

“This- it’s just— unsafe.”

“Is that your only complaint?”

“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.

Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.

With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”

“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.

Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.

“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”

Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.

“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”

Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.

···························

It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:

This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.

Steve’s kissing someone else right now.

While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.

If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.

Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.

It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—

Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.

So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.

The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.

Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street. 

Harder to shake than a cold.

Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”

“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”

Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”

“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.

“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”

“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”

Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated. 

“Fuck you, Steve.”

He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body. 

“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again. 

Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.

Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.

“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.

An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.

“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”

Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.

“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.

Oh, god fucking dam—

“….. No?”

“You literally just said you got jealous.”

“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”

“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”

You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Should I just call you a brat instead?”

“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”

His face falls. “Why not?”

You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.

“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”

Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.

“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“

“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”

So much for your petty silence.

“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”

Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way. 

“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”

You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs. 

···························

Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.

He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.

When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.

Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.

You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.

Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep. 

Or so he thought.

As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.

“Stay?”

Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.

He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”

“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”

Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.

He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.

Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.

Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.

····································

When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache. 

“Fucking christ.”

You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.

Wait. Why am I here?

You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.

Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note. 

hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover. 

if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.

— steve ♡

While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.

We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.

It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?

Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.

Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.

“Family Vi— ”

“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.

“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”

She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”

“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”

“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”

“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”

It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”

“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”

“I— ”

“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”

Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.

“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”

You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.

Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.

Totally fine.

········································································

It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?

You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.

Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.

It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.

The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.

Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.

“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”

“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.

You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”

“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”

You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”

His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”

“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.

“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.” 

“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”

Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”

“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”

He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back. 

“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”

“Wait, what? Steve—”

“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”

“Okay, but— ”

“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”

Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.

“Stevie, listen—”

“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”

If only he’d shut the fuck up.

He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”

You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”

“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”

“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.” 

You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.

Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”

He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”

“You mean vibrator incident—”

“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”

“My head is not big!”

You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”

“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.

Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”

You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.

“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”

You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.

“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.

“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”

You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”

Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.

“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”

“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.

“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”

Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”

He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.

“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this. 

“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs. 

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”

You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.

“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”

You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”

“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”

A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”  A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”

“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”

Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.

He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.

Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.

“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”

You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”

“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”

“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”

You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”

“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.

His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.

It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself. 

Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”

A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.

“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”

Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.

Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.

Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.

You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.

He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”

“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.

“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.

“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.

With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.

It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.

At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you. 

“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”

You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.

Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.

No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.

“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.

“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.

Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”

[ruerecs]

𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑠 𝑖𝑖.

THE LUCKY ONES by @maroon-cardigan

its crazy what youll do for a friend by @thecreelhouse

dancing with our hands tied by @andvys

(its not like) hes my boyfriend by @luveline

dibs by @stevie-petey

drunk!reader being super clingy w/ steve

that guy

by @appocalipse

I SHOULD HATE YOU by @munsonsreputation

we've been celestial even before this by @munsonthings86

hardest of hearts by @taintedcigs

riding steve after a stressful day at work by @steveharringtonat3am

cling by @say-al0e

baby c'mon by @upsidedownwithsteve

mix up

steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot

steve brings reader icecream & confesses

you worry steve thinks you're a burden, but really he just loves you

by @lovebugism

we're supposed to be eating breakfast by @loveshotzz

somehow, we're here by @strangerstilinski

sturdy by @boyfriendstevie

of books & beasts by @violettaskies

[bloodibambiidoll]

How Does Pinterest See You?🪞🎀🖤

Search: Celebrity, shoes, outfit, purse, aesthetic, make-up look & post the first photo. (That’s hot)

No pressure tags: @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @littlexdeaths @bimbobaggins69 @lesservillain @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @drudyslut @take-everything-you-can @thecreelhouse @strangerstilinski @darlingsfandom @rafesthroatbaby @dreamliners ✨

[rebelfell]

I hesitate to call this a WIP because I actually have no memory of writing it and idk if I’ll ever finish it. But since I got tagged by @thecreelhouse and @keeksandgigz for WIP wednesday-on-a-thursday, here we go with some in-progress filth.

all I can say for certain is I was clearly in a Mood…

The air in the room had grown hot and stifling, condensation starting to steam up the windows as muted blue street light filtered through them.

Steve’s hands rested on your hips and you could feel every tremor of his body under yours. Taught muscles quivering, his strong grip tensing so his fingertips dug into your doughy flesh.

He had his lips pressed together, trying to stifle the whines and whimpers that fell out of him with every tortuous second that passed. But you were so wet, so tight around him, he felt like he was going to die right there nestled in your heat.

“Eddie, p-please,” you mewled, turning your head trying to catch your boyfriend’s eye as he stalked around the bed. “Please let him move, it hurts…”

The pitiful lilt in your voice was laid on a little thicker than you intended, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Eddie smiled, coming around to stand in front of you, his hand snaking into your hair to grasp it at the root.

It made you pulse around Steve and he started to huff like a bull trying not to charge.

“What hurts, princess?” Eddie asked. “Is Stevie’s big cock too much for you?”

Probably, yeah, you thought as your head shook.

His was certainly longer than any other you’d ever had. And thicker too, except for Eddie’s.

The minute you saw it for the first time, arousal had surged between your legs at the thought of it filling you. And as you straddled his lap and sank down on him so, so slowly, every inch made you question your own sanity.

It had been settled deep inside of you for nearly twenty minutes now, the both of you under strict instructions not to move. Not allowed so much as a wiggle to get more comfortable, unless of course Eddie gave you permission.

Even your hands were supposed to remain in one place, his on your hips and yours on his shoulders. With your palms touching the edges of the soft down of dark hair in the center of his chest.

And with every minute that passed, you had only grown more desperate; more pathetic and needy; more plaint and willing to do anything so long as it earned you the sweet release you craved.

But you had a feeling it would be a while yet until you got it. Eddie was clearly having too much fun.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Syl!!!! I absolutely adore your unhinged commentary! It never fails to make me giggle and kick my legs! This by far is the best!

I'm so happy to know you're enjoying it as much as I am! ❤️❤️❤️

Don't worry, Steve will MAKE SURE you don't get interrupted next time! 😜🙃 Though we better be careful ... 👀

Chapter 4 - Illicit Affairs

Summary: Tired of heartbreak and tiptoeing on eggshells, you intend to take matters into your own hands until new things come to light. A long overdue conversation of the past and hopes for the future once you let your guard down and show Steve where your loyalty lies.

18+ Minors DNI!

CW: Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Angst. Pining. Spousal abuse (mental and physical). Nefarious deeds and scheming. Smut-ish (you'll see).

WC: 8.8K

If Nik had come home the previous night, you hadn't heard. Your body and mind were so worn down with exhaustion, sleep pulled you under for its sweet embrace without any protest. It was the first time in weeks you had a full night's rest.

With the new day, came a renewed sense of hope.

Hope floundered momentarily as you stared at yourself, a shell of the woman you used to be all because of him.

It was unfortunately unusually warm, but your husband's brutal touch left you no alternative when you woke up to fresh bruises yet again, opting for a turtleneck to cover the ugly blemishes.

You couldn't let him win. He would not take away the one thing in your life that you yearned for, willing to have no matter what the cost.

A plan was carefully laid out in the recesses of your mind that you were about to set into motion.

Lunch arrangements were made with your father almost every Sunday. You could decompress and relax in your childhood home without worry or fear of being scrutinized for your every move.

“Daddy?” Your voice carried down the hall as you closed the door behind you.

“Hey kiddo!” Shouting back, rounding the corner, meeting you halfway to pull you in for a warm hug, kissing the top of your head as you melted into his chest.

“Thought we'd do lunch in the sunroom. It's too nice to be cooped up in a stuffy dining room.” Briefly letting you go to pull you into his side.

“Sounds nice. What're we having?” You beamed up at him as he led you to the table. He'd been getting more gray hairs in the past few months, most likely from stress and the pressures of the business, something the two of you rarely talked about. It weighed on him more heavily as he aged.

“They whipped up some Bolognese pasta with a nice Greek salad and of course, wine from your Nonna's vineyard.” His smile widened, knowing it was your favorite.

“Sounds amazing!” You kissed his cheek and took your seat across from him.

The food was brought out as you chatted about mundane things, such as how the gallery was doing. You told him how the wedding went, leaving out the rendezvous with Steve but letting him know that he and Nik did have a few unsavory words.

“That man is such an arrogant hothead.” Sighing as he sipped his wine, looking as annoyed as you were at the behavior. You took it as your chance to speak up.

“Daddy, I know we don't talk about business, at all, but Nik is ruining everything you've built. You're right, he is that arrogant hothead and does nothing unless it's for himself.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, carefully thinking of your next words watching as your fathers' eyes drift to the table, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

This was it. Sow the seeds of doubt. Let it sprout and spread. Maybe your father would finally see the kind of man Nik had become was not at all what was needed for business or for his daughter.

“I'm not happy. I haven't been happy for a long time.” You solemnly spoke, sighing and melting further into your chair as he reached across the table taking your hand in his.

“I know.” Your head shot up at his admittance. He quickly looked away, unable to meet your narrowed gaze.

“What do you mean you know?” Raising your voice slightly, pulling your hand away, brows furrowed with confusion.

“Your dear old dad isn't blind. I know you aren't happy. And I also know about his side gigs.” Letting a sigh escape him as his shoulders slumped.

Your confusion quickly bubbles into anger. Has he known all this time and turned a blind eye? For what? An alliance with a family that brought him a little more power, treating you like nothing but a pawn in the process.

When your father first brought up the prospect all those years ago, you were hesitant. A marriage to this family would secure his hold in Chicago for the foreseeable future but he assured you then that he wouldn't pressure you into a marriage with someone you didn't know.

When you met Nik for the first time, he immediately caught your attention. Confident, charming and handsome. Not at all what the rumors had suggested.

He swept you entirely off of your feet while impressing your father, agreeing to marry him after only six months of dating. It seemed like you were finally getting your fairytale ending, even if it was with the wrong prince.

He had completely fooled you both, conducting double dealings behind your father's back before the honeymoon phase had ended.

“You know?” Shaking your head, with disbelief. “And you've stood by and done nothing?” Practically shouting at him as you swiftly stood, almost knocking your chair over in the process.

“Y/N, it's complicated. If I knew then, I would have never asked you to get involved. I'm sorry.” He replied, suddenly slamming his fists down on the table, as the fine china and glasses rattled. “Goddamnit!”

His sudden outburst made you jump and flinch away from him. Your knee jerk reaction didn’t go unnoticed, as he quickly stood, rounding the table.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He spoke softly, coming to reach out with open arms but you quickly sidestepped him putting some distance between the two of you.

“I need to go. I can't be here right now.” Quickly shooting down the hall and back out the door as your father called out your name.

Your driver was leaned up against the car, straightening up and tossing the smoke he held between his fingers to the ground when he saw you rush out.

“Miss?” He asked when he saw the burning fury etched across your face.

“Take me home.”

He nodded, opening the door without another word.

Feeling utterly alone in this, that hopelessness began to edge its way back in. You took a deep breath as the car sped off, your phone continuously vibrating in your lap; “Dad” popping up each time, until you finally turned it off.

You couldn't ignore him forever but right now some distance would do you some good.

It was quiet when you arrived back home, but Nik’s car was outside.

You didn't bother looking around for him, heading straight up to your room. A million things going through your mind at once, so lost in thought you didn't notice the door to your bedroom sat ajar. You never left it open, typically locking it before leaving for the day.

You barged in, grimacing to yourself when you spotted him sitting on your bed, stopping you dead in your tracks. He lifted a bottle of whiskey to his lips, looking out the window.

He was more than disheveled, hair unkempt, shirt unbuttoned and his tie undone, hanging haphazardly around his neck.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Asking while maintaining your distance, eyeing him warily.

He finally turned his head, eyes glassy and bloodshot, taking another sip from the bottle. Some liquid dripped down his chin as he finished, brushing it away with the back of his hand. It was then you noticed his bloody and bruised knuckles. An instance wave of worry rushed over you.

“Have a good lunch?” Falling from his lips, a little slurred, in a mocking tone.

Ignoring his question, you quickly surveyed the room. It was in complete disarray, with clothes and other belongings strewn about laying on the floor and bed. He’d shattered the mirror above your vanity, a smear of blood across the spiderwebbed reflection.

“What the hell are you doing in here, Nik? We had an agreement.” You huffed out, his presence only worsening your already perturbed mood. You knew you shouldn’t aggravate him further, but it was too late.

He swiftly stood, although stumbling just a bit, righting himself with a deep chuckle, confirming he was indeed drunk.

“Agreement?” He snarled, lip curling as his eyes trailed down your body. “I think we both know that little agreement is done.” Swaying as he took a heavy step toward you, making you take a step back.

“Oh, kitten, come on now. You can't be that stupid?” Taking two more steps, as you followed suit, your back hitting the wall behind you. No where else to go, you watched, eyes going wide, as he eased forward.

His large frame towered over you, placing one hand on the wall caging you in and leaning down into your space as he spoke. His whiskey laced breath fanned over you, making you wince at the smell.

“You're not going to make me look like a fool and get away with it.” He spat, you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for anything. “You're my fucking wife. My fucking property.”

Sliding his hand down, grabbing your hip, pulling you sloppily into him leaving you no choice but to take hold of his shirt to steady yourself, opening your eyes in time to see his face lean in, his lips pressing forcefully into yours.

His tongue darted out, trying to prod your lips open but you kept your mouth clamped shut, pushing him back as you yelled “Get off of me, you fucking asshole!”

He stared at you for a moment, almost bewildered before taking another long swig on unsteady legs.

You breathed in a small sigh of relief, as he stalked away, but your reprieve was quickly dashed when he stopped short of the door, glaring back at you.

“Fucking whore!” He shouted, raising the whiskey bottle, drawing back, and throwing it with all the force he could muster directly toward you.

You screamed; ducking as it shattered above your head, the shards raining down, hitting your body and littering the floor.

“You deserve worse, you ungrateful bitch.” He laughed, walking out to leave you to deal with the aftermath.

Hurriedly, you rushed to the door slamming it shut, but it was only then you noticed the lock was broken.

It was as if Nik had been looking for something, tearing your room apart.

It dawned on you then. The dress. The closet was in shambles, much like your room. After looking around, rummaging through things on the floor you realized it wasn't there.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you walked back out into the room, looking at the destruction more closely, eyes suddenly homing in on the smoldering fireplace in the far corner.

You caught sight of a small piece of wine-colored fabric sitting within, the rest of what Nik had deemed such an offending piece of clothing had been reduced to mere ashes.

Collapsing in on yourself, your knees suddenly hit the floor.

That feeling of hope from this morning was fading fast, as you knelt there, tears spilling hot over your cheeks as your body began to tremble.

If you were going to make it out of this alive, you had to be smart.

You wiped your cheeks, with shaky fingers as you stood. No more feeling sorry for yourself. You were done crying and being told what to do. It was time to take matters into your own hands.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Between cleaning up the room, along with yourself you worked late into the night.

A chair was pushed up under the handle, bracing the door in case he tried to come back in but thankfully he had slept the rest of day leaving late that night.

Still on edge, sleep eluded you until the early hours of morning. It wasn't until the sunlight streaming through your shades that you woke, reaching for your phone, gasping as you jumped out of bed, you'd slept straight through your alarm.

You had numerous missed calls from Abigail, along with your father who was just as stubborn as you. He wouldn't give up, but the wounds were still too fresh for you to speak with him.

You typed out a quick text to him, hoping it would buy you a little more time before you had to deal with him. Then it was a call to a very relieved Abigail before getting ready.

Once you finally stepped into your office, after Abigail had given you the rundown for the day, you were met with a fresh bouquet of dark red roses atop your desk, much like the color of the dress he had gifted you.

“Those arrived first thing this morning.” She commented before excusing herself.

A note was nestled among the petals just like all the ones that had come before, except this time you were hesitant, leaving it there to jump into work instead.

The day flew by, playing catch up from the late morning, as the sun finally sits low, throwing its golden hues across the city announcing its departure and closing the day.

You lean back in your chair, stretching as Abigail throws you a quick goodbye. Tossing your glasses to the side, eyes now tired from overuse, the note finally caught your attention once more.

You plucked it from its place, tearing it open with a long exhale before flipping it over to read.

I'm sorry.

Always Yours, S.H.

He had nothing to apologize for.

The thought that he must have conveyed the worry and fear from being caught as a rejection passed through your mind, but nothing could be further from the truth.

You had to get in touch with him to make your intentions known.

It came to you suddenly; you keep a log of anyone who buys from the gallery. A list of clients for important events or the occasional reminders that go out for new exhibits.

You immediately opened your laptop and pulled up those important contacts, opening the “H” section with a few clicks.

“Bingo.” You whispered out. Abigail had taken his information the day he had bought the painting. Your hand reached for your cell, but you stopped. It could be monitored too easily.

You reached for the desk phone instead, dialing the number with ease and placing it to your ear.

The seconds ticked by as it seemed to ring for an eternity before you received his voicemail. You sighed, as the brief message played, alerting you that you had reached Mr. Steve Harrington’s personal cell followed by the beep.

“Steve, hi. It's Dove. I— I just wanted to thank you for the dress, it was beautiful. And the flowers, I just read your note. I— Well, I mean you have nothing to apologize for. It's all complicated but, I think you know that. I really don't want to say this all over a voicemail, just please know that I'm sorry and I hope to see you again soon.”

You blew out a heavy breath, as you cradled the phone, sitting back in your chair hoping it wasn't too late to let him know how you truly feel.

His answer came in the form of an email to your business inbox a few hours later. He left it vague, knowing you would decipher it easily.

Ms. Alexander,

I won't be back in town until the end of the week, at which point I would love to see what you have on hand so I can get a better idea on which direction I should take.

Until then, Best Regards, S.H.

You laid in bed reading over the words, feeling those wings of hope flutter in your chest once more.

It wasn't over yet.

Unbeknownst to you he had been out of town checking Pip into a very remote rehab facility. They kept her whereabouts secret, going as far as taking her phone away, remaining that way for the duration of her stay.

He was elated to hear your voicemail, sending an email to your office immediately. He didn't want to keep you in suspense since he wouldn't get the chance to see you in person until much later in the week.

He and Eddie had a few meetings to attend, more business to discuss with some colleagues in other cities to get all of his affairs in order. He was getting the numbers and allies behind him.

Once his plane touched down back in Chicago early Friday afternoon, much to Eddie's dismay and disapproving grumbles he had them heading to see you.

He was silent most of the ride, knee bouncing the entire time, stewing in his own thoughts until he just couldn't handle it anymore.

“Steve, may I be blunt?” He asked from his seat beside him.

“Of course.” He sat his phone in his lap, giving the other man his full attention.

“I know you love her, but she's married, to a Petrov, no less. I hope you know what you're doing.” He reached for a cigarette, extending the gold case toward Steve offering him one.

He didn't immediately answer, taking one of the hand rolled cigarettes between his fingers. Sliding it between his lips, as Eddie pulled out a matching gold lighter igniting the end for him.

He inhaled deeply, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. Throwing his head back to release it as he watches the smoke rise and waft around them.

“Ed, I always know what I'm doing. Don't sweat it.” It comes out as nonchalant, making Eddie raise an eyebrow toward him.

Eddie knew Steve was always thinking at least five steps ahead but when it came to matters of the heart things could sometimes get muddled. That’s when things could go awry.

“Care to tell the rest of the class or are you just going to keep me in the dark?” He inhaled his own cigarette.

“There's a lot of moving parts with this one. I'll tell you when you need to know. And right now, you don't need to know. There's more at stake than just her right now.” He sighed, looking out the window. “But I'll protect her at any and all costs.”

Eddie knew better than to prod any further. Steve would tell him when he was ready.

The driver slowed as he pulled up to the building.

“Understood boss. Just know that I'll have your back no matter what.” Clasping Steve on the shoulder before exiting the vehicle.

The driver opened Steve's door as he quickly got out.

Both men headed around back, per usual, to gain entrance to the building.

Steve spotted Abigail asking if you were available.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Harrington, she just stepped out for lunch, shall I take a message down for her?” She asked cheerily, grabbing her pad and pen.

“That won't be necessary, but do you happen to know where she went? I'm feeling quite famished myself, my flight just got in, maybe I'll see her in passing.” His smile lit up, no woman could ever truly resist that Harrington charm once he turned his attention solely to them.

“Of course, it's just down the road. Bistro Auclair. I'm not sure if she was meeting anyone or not.”

“Thank you, Ms. Shepherd. Have a lovely day.”

-

He walked the few blocks down the sidewalk, spotting you on the terrace as his heart fluttered. You were distracted by a book in your hands, as he strode up beside you. A little pinch of concentration was etched across your brow, which he thought was adorable.

He loved to see you in the ordinary, everyday routine of your life, longing to be there with you, enjoying the quiet company of one another. Seeing you now, he almost didn't want to disturb you.

“Ti sono mancato, little dove?” He spoke, unbuttoning his jacket before taking a seat at the table next to you. “I'd kiss your cheek, but eyes are always watching.” He flashes that million-dollar smile and sends you a wink.

“Always.” You reply, an answer to both his question and observation not entirely surprised to see him, taking a sip of your coffee. You mirrored his own cheeky grin behind your cup.

“So, from now on I think it's best if you want to have a chat, meet me at the gallery instead. My so-called guards are under strict orders to stay out.”

You glance around, brief worry flashing across your face. He's trying to be discreet, but if anyone happened to be spying it would be a little too obvious. He knows your tails are parked around the corner right now, not bothering to watch you. Eddie's stationed close by keeping an eye on them.

“As you wish.” He states, flagging down the waiter. “I heard your gallery is hosting a charity event tomorrow. How would one go about finding themselves on the guest list?”

“I suppose you would have to know someone.” You shrugged. “But, since you're a paying client, your name is already on the list. I'm sure Abigail sent you an invitation earlier this week.”

“Of course, I haven't been home to check.” His smile never wavered, as he sat up a little straighter. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

You began to gather your things, leaving cash on the table for your bill as you stood.

“Those goons don't come in during events either. I make them hang in the back alley. You and Eddie can get in no problem. I'll have his name added too.” He nodded in understanding as you slipped past, his eyes trailing your curves as your hips swayed with each step that took you further away from him.

Soon. He thought to himself. It was just a matter of time.

The day of the charity gala brought its own stresses and challenges. Getting the gallery ready for events of this caliber was always a hassle but at the end of the day they were worth it.

Decorators, caterers and entertainment was brought in for the evening. All in a rush of madness, vying to get everything ready on time. The large space was filled with high top tables for guests to congregate and drink to their hearts desire all while bidding for some magnificent pieces.

One hundred percent of the profits for all of the art donated would go to charity. Something you were truly proud of.

Mood lighting in muted blues and purples was set around the space making sure that the art still remained in the spotlight. The lighting was set so it also provided a little seclusion and privacy in some corners of the room.

You directed everyone around until the very last minute. Abigail had to practically shove you away to make sure you were able to change, everything in your office already laid out.

The dress you had chosen was an elegant, but not over the top floor length, slip style silk gown with a thigh high slit. It fits your curves but not overly exaggerating them. You'd chosen black to stay on theme with the event. Thankfully the small remnants of those last bruises had faded.

You took the opportunity to make sure your makeup was just right, and every hair was in place.

As you walked out into the hall, chatter and soft music filled the air. Soon the gallery would be filled to the brim, exactly as you planned.

An hour quickly passed as you made your way around the large space, exchanging pleasantries with all the guests but you were distracted. Eyes drifting, continuously scanning the room looking for him the entire time.

Across the room, he had already made his entry, searching for you as well. He weaves his way through the outer edges of the crowd, always cautious and on high alert.

He spotted you first, your back turned speaking with an attendee he paid little attention to as his focus was solely on you.

Finishing up your conversation, you turned abruptly, as if you could feel his eyes. You caught those warm, honey hued irises looking right at you. You threw him a warm smile, nodding toward the far corner of the room, sitting your champagne down on a nearby table as you began walking.

You navigated the crowd easily, moving to a more desolate spot.

He met you there a moment later, wearing a simple and classy black tux and matching bowtie. It was then you noticed he held a single, dark red rose.

“For the beautiful host.” Extending it forward.

Your fingertips pinched the stem gingerly, as you took it from him with a shy smile, lifting it to your nose and breathing in the intoxicating aroma.

“I think we should go somewhere more private.” Sitting an electronic key card on the table to the side of you and continuing to slide past him. Being cautious to not linger too long out in the open like this. “Access to the balcony, down the corridor and to the far left. I'll meet you there in ten.”

It felt like your feet couldn't carry you fast enough. Your nerves were electrified, buzzing with anticipation as your heart rate ticked up, navigating through the crowd and finally reaching the empty corridor back to your office. You swung the door open and quickly slammed it behind you, letting out a heavy breath.

You could feel the change as if it were all around you. After tonight, there was no going back.

You reapplied your lipstick, looking over yourself once more. You weren't the same woman from eight years ago. Time and a million miles had separated you. You both had changed but you still saw that handsome boy, who wore his heart on his sleeve, hoping he still saw that foolish girl with eyes only for him.

Using the door from your office, you didn't realize he was already perched in the corner until he spoke, startling you just a bit.

“Beautiful view, tesoro.” Eyes cast toward the twinkling lights of the city instead of you. “Eddie's watching the hall. I can hear you worrying from here.”

You crossed the small space to come stand beside him, as you too looked toward the soft glow and twinkling lights, suddenly feeling his eyes lingering on you instead.

“I'm not worried about that. No one's going to come back here.” You sighed, suddenly feeling a light chill, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“But you are worried, no? Tell me, what's on your mind?” He knew you all too well.

You had a million things you wanted to say but suddenly you weren't sure where to start. Standing by him now it seems like none of it mattered, as the trepidation melted away.

“I can't live like this.” You finally spoke, voice wavering the tiniest bit, catching him a little off guard. For once he wasn't sure where you were going with this.

“Dove, just say the word and I'll stop everything. The flowers, dropping by. If it's too forward or making you uncomfortable. The situation isn't ideal but…” he cleared his throat, to bite back what he truly wanted to say. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

“No, it's not ideal.” You slowly looked over to him, his tough exterior melting away showing you the vulnerable man you loved underneath as he searched your face.

“I could never ask you to stop, but we aren't stupid kids anymore.” Your emotions were getting the better of you. Feelings welling up with nowhere else to go but out, as you were thrust back into a memory you had tried to bury.

“He's sending me away.” He spoke softly into your hair, placing a kiss there. Your head was laid on his bare chest as you let your fingertips trace patterns onto his torso.

It had been another night of you two tangled beneath his silk sheets forgetting the rest of the world for just a little while. You didn't want to think about family or what comes next, but he couldn't help himself in these moments.

Everything heavy on his mind was laid out before you in the small quiet of the night. It wasn't unusual. He trusted you. He loved you.

“When?” Your voice trembled. Afraid of the answer but it was better than the unknown.

“A couple of weeks. He doesn't want me to be in his way. He knows he's in the wrong. It's better to send the opposition away than try to see the old way doesn't always work.”

Steve had seen things changing, he brought new ideas and a fresh way of thinking that Richard didn't like, determined to do things his way.

“Steve, he can't do that. You're taking over for him eventually; can't he see how stupid that would be?” You were already mad. Knowing that Richard Harrington hates his own son enough to send him away from everything he knows.

“He can. He's sending me over there to head the small operation he has. Eddie's coming too.” As if some small comfort knowing he wouldn't be alone would make it any better.

He was leaving you. Who would be here for you?

You lay there knowing there was nothing either you or he could do.

A small tear you were holding back pushed past your lashes and hit his chest. He felt it but didn't say anything, only pulling you closer into his warmth.

“Dove, I won't be gone forever.” He held your chin, moving your face towards his. Your eyes were closed as his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “I promise.”

“You promised.” Whispering out, your gaze back out toward the city instead of him.

“What?” He asks, suddenly confused.

“You promised you wouldn't be gone forever and yet here we are. It feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.”

His mouth parted but words weren't enough. He didn't know what to say.

When he didn't say anything, you filled the silence, turning to face him.

“You were 22 Steve; you could have told him you were staying! You weren't a boy to be ordered around anymore!” Your shouts felt like knives slicing at his heart.

“Dove,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gathering his strength for a fight he wasn't ready for. “What was I supposed to do, disobey my father? Turn my back on my family? You know better than anyone that wasn't possible.”

“Yeah, we both know family duty all too well.” Scoffing slightly. “Did you think I wouldn't notice you never responded to my wedding invitation? Not even a card or text.” Your eyes began to sting and well with tears.

“Little Dove,” he lifted your chin, pinched softly between his thumb and forefinger, leaving you no choice but to turn your focus back to him. “Do you know what that did to me? What it would have done to me to watch you marry someone else?”

“What about me Steve?” You moved out of his touch. “The entire time I was hoping you would burst through those doors and take me away from all of it. I never wanted any of this.”

“Goddamnit,” he hissed. Thinking back to when he had received that invitation. It was like a death sentence, yet this was a fate worse than death. He had to live the rest of his life knowing your heart belonged to someone else.

“Oh, Steeeeeeviieeeee!” Pip’s voice rang out, as she opened the door to his small office in the back of the villa. He didn't look up, only silently cursing himself for not locking the door.

“What the hell do you want?” He asked, already fearing an impending headache his little sister would undoubtedly bring forth with whatever antics she was about to start.

She tiptoed up to his desk, hands behind her back.

“Mail for you.” Promptly dropping an envelope addressed to him on top of the stack of papers he had been going through and plopping herself down in the chair across from him.

He glared at her as he picked it up. It was an off-white envelope with roses embossed along two of the corners. Taking his letter opener and cutting into it, he finally spoke back up.

“Do you mind? When the hell do you ever bring me my mail?” Sliding what was clearly some sort of invitation out.

“Oh no, I'm not going anywhere for this.” A grin lifted the edges of her lips as she looked back at him. “Mamma already opened ours, this one is all for you.”

He sighed, holding it up as he began to scan it over.

“David Alexander requests the honor of your presence for the marriage of Y/N Y/M/N Alexander and Nikolai Dmitri Petrov…” The rest of the words went fuzzy as he focused on your name. His stomach felt like it dropped, time seemed to slow as his heart began to beat radically in his chest.

“Get out.” He spoke, eyes never leaving the invitation.

“Oh Steve, you can't possibly think she was going to wait around on you forever. You should be happy fo—”

“I said get the fuck out, Pip!” He yelled, rising from his seat pointing toward the door, closing his fist around the paper.

She rolled her eyes, huffing as she got up and crossed the room, murmuring a quick “asshole” before slamming the door behind her.

He unclenched his fist, tossing it to the side.

“Fuck!” He hisses out, moving to the small liquor cabinet in the corner of the room pouring three fingers of bourbon and downing it in one gulp immediately pouring another.

This couldn't be happening. Not like this. He picked up his phone, dialing a number he knew by heart, but he stopped.

He hadn't lurked on social media in several months, but he was suddenly on autopilot, pulling up your Instagram with a few swipes and was immediately met with weeks of smiling, happy faces from you and Nik.

His face flushed hot as his heart beat wildly, scrolling through an endless stream of photos, pausing when he caught sight of the one that took his breath.

A close up of your left hand, a big diamond engagement ring adorned your ring finger. A blurry image of you kissing Nik in the background.

His nostrils flared, releasing the breath he was holding when he suddenly slammed his phone against the nearest wall. The glass of bourbon came next, shattering as shards flew across the room.

It was the first of many, lonely nights he locked himself away and drowned himself in liquor trying to forget all about you.

For three agonizing months he hid it as best he could, until it all came to a head the day of the wedding.

Eddie knew when to speak freely and when to keep his mouth shut. He'd watched his best friend's mental and physical health decline, hiding it well from his mother and Pip but it was getting worse. The business was taking a hit, and he knew Richard would be coming for Steve's ass if he didn't straighten himself up. He'd seen him work too hard to let this be the end.

Eddie tried knocking first, but was met with silence on the other end, then trying the handle but the door was locked.

“Steve, unlock the door. We need to talk.” There was a beat of silence before he spoke up.

“Go away, Eddie.” It came out low and muffled.

“I can't do that. Either you unlock the door or I'm busting it down. Your choice but I know if Sophia has to replace a broken door, she isn't going to be happy.” A few seconds ticked by before he finally heard shuffling and the door flew open.

Steve was disheveled and swaying just a bit as he lifted a bottle of bourbon to his lips, chugging a few large gulps.

His shirt was unbuttoned, tie abandoned on his desk and hair falling in and around his face. Eddie knew he'd been drinking most of the day. He finally made a gesture with his hand, bidding him to enter with glossy, half lidded eyes barely watching as he passed, shutting the door behind them.

“Look, man you have got to pull yourself together. It isn't the end of the world.” He began, as Steve crossed the room, plopping himself at the end of the sofa. “If your dad gets hears about any of this shit he—”

“You ever been in love, Eddie?” The interruption came as a surprise as the older man looked down at Steve, the two never talked about their feelings or such frivolous topics as love. They were close but left things of this nature close to their vest.

“Wha— I mean, I—”

“No, you haven't.” Steve finally looked up, crestfallen and broken.

“Steve, man—”

“No, don't come in here and presume to know anything about how I feel and tell me it's not the end of the world when my entire world is about to marry someone else.” He stood on unsteady legs, taking a few steps to close the distance between the two of them, pressing a finger into his chest.

He closed his eyes against the stinging sensation, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath, suddenly laughing out.

“Eddie, just fuck off tonight.” He took a step back, and stumbled, almost toppling over before the other man caught his arm.

“Woah there, big boy. Let's just…” He helped guide him back over to the sofa, prying the bottle from his hand as he sat down.

His breaking point came a few moments later. His phone alerted him to a new text. He immediately regretted opening the picture from Pip.

You were stunning, with a huge, beaming smile. You were positively glowing, and it made his stomach churn. Burning liquor threatened to make its escape back up.

He knew he'd made a huge mistake.

Steve broke down, laying his head in his hands letting his tears fall freely.

Eddie was taken back. In all the years they had known each other, he'd never seen him quite so vulnerable.

“It's all my fault. I should have never left.” Suddenly lifting his head, wiping those errant tears and sniffling. Eddie just stared on in disbelief letting him continue. “I did all of this shit thinking it was the right thing, for the both of us. I started pulling away instead of telling her the truth. Instead of going back to Chicago and bringing her back here, where she belongs. Now I've lost her.”

In Steve's mind, he had become much too wrapped up in the business. He had pulled away hoping you would find happiness with someone else that wasn't involved with the drama this life inevitably led to. He hoped for someone who could give you the normal life you longed for.

It's what you deserved. He wanted to give you that life but being here it seemed less and less possible with each passing day. He wasn't returning to Chicago anytime soon.

He had to let you go.

He never imagined you would marry into another family. It tore his heart into. He'd seen firsthand what it could do to a family. He had been trying to spare you from all of it, yet you had been sucked right in anyway.

“Steve, it may not feel like it, but you did the right thing.” Eddie tentatively laid a hand to the younger man's shoulder in a reassuring manner. “This line of work is hard enough. I can't imagine being tied down like that with one more piece to worry about. People like us aren't meant for happy endings.”

Steve simply nodded, sinking back further into the cushions. You'd both made your decisions. He wouldn't stand in your way. It was a decision, he feared, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

You shove past him, knocking him from the memory, heading back to your office but his hand wraps around your wrist, halting your movement.

“Dove, I swear to God if I had known it wasn't what you wanted, I would have been here. You have to believe me.”

You took a breath and slowly turned back toward him, unable to contain the tears from falling, as you let him guide you into his chest.

He tentatively rested his hand on your hip, a warm palm through the thin silk, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“I let you go so you could be free of all this so you could marry some finance guy and live a halfway normal life.” You huffed out a small laugh at the absurdity of it. As if there would have ever been anyone else but him.

His free palm came to rest on your cheek as you nuzzled into his touch, closing your eyes as the pad of his thumb wiped the tears from your eye. Craving and longing for something you'd never thought you'd feel again. You needed more.

“Steve, I would have waited a lifetime for you.” Words coming out breathy, knocking the wind from his lungs. A knife straight to the heart.

“Dove, look at me.” Those hazel pools filled with so much adoration looking back at you, also reflecting a pain that was palpable.

So much lost time and things left unsaid.

“Steve.” You grasp the back of his hand, lips meeting his palm planting a small kiss there.

“I need you to tell me what you want.” His face inches closer. Waiting for your words. He nudged his nose into yours, titling his head slightly as his top lip grazed yours sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Kiss me, please.”

His lips envelop yours, a soft press turning eager with one taste. It was a tidal wave of relief, being pulled out to an endless sea, floating and falling all at once. It was familiar and warm, like finding your way back home after a long journey but the butterflies fluttered in your ribcage all the same.

He kissed you with a passion and fervor that was unmatched, as your lips began working in tandem, stealing your breath and making you weak in the knees.

The hold on your hip tightened as you gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him further down into you.

He licked at your lower lip, yours parting for him. Tongues finally meeting in a slow rhythmic dance. You could taste a hint of the warm bourbon he had been sipping earlier but everything underneath was Steve.

His hand reached your lower back pressing you further into him, suddenly feeling an aching need growing in the pit of your stomach.

Reluctantly, you pulled back to finally catch your breath, you were both panting as your foreheads met, grinning down at each other wildly until his smile fell a little.

“I'm sorry. I'm so goddamn sorry I wasn't there. I thought it was what you wanted.”

“I've only ever wanted you. I need you, Steve. Please.” You gave him no time to respond, taking his hand into yours, and promptly dragging him back through the door.

You turned to shut it and he was instantly behind you. His hands wound around your waist, pulling you back into his chest as his lips ghosted the shell of your ear as he spoke.

“I want nothing more than to have my way with you. Let me worship you.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin, his words sending a shiver down your spine as you faced him.

“We don't have that kind of time, but I need you. I haven't—” You shied away from the confession you were about to vocalize, as he began kissing down your jaw.

“You haven't what?” He asks in-between kisses.

“I haven't been with anyone for a long time.” He paused, pulling back to look at you, eyes narrowed and brows meeting with confusion. “Nik and I— we haven't been intimate in years. He— he would rather fuck the whores at his club. We just stopped after a while. I didn't want him touching me anymore.”

Your confession both elated and enraged him. He knew Nik was an idiot, but to ignore you for some common whores? This beautiful, amazing woman he had no idea how to handle or take care of. It all suddenly made sense why you two never had children.

“Tesoro mio, that has nothing to do with you. He's an idiot. He doesn't deserve you.” His lips find yours once more, this time less urgent, moving languidly as his nose presses into your cheek, as pulling you further into him.

He began to walk you back, your thighs hitting your desk making you break free for a moment, frantically shoving papers out of the way as they cascaded to the floor. Something you would worry about later.

He wound his arm around you, helping to lift you up, parting your thighs as far as the restrictive fabric of your dress would allow as he came to slot himself between them. His eyes never left yours, leaning down to capture your soft, supple lips once more before he began trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

Your hands reached for his belt buckle, but he stopped you with a tsk, stilling your movements.

“Uh, uh tesoro. Let me get you ready. This is all about you right now.”

His hands trailed lower, reaching the hem of your dress, pushing it further up your thighs until your red panties came into view.

“Mmmm… my favorite color.” He growls, his fingertips trace the top of your thigh softly, bringing his other hand to the desktop beside you, palm planted firmly against the cool wood, leaning close to your ear.

“I know you taste just as sweet as I remember.” His words make you bite down against your lower lip, your body rife with anticipation, his lips peppering softly along your cheek meeting yours once more.

His fingertips trail lower, to the inside of your thigh, you gasp out releasing a breathy moan that his lips and mouth swallow. He would gladly drown in those sounds, letting you pull him under.

You further part your thighs, the damp silk of your panties were sticky, clinging to you. If you weren't so needy, you'd feel slightly embarrassed at how soaked you already were.

His finger inches closer, grazing that crease where your panties lay.

Your hips suddenly jolt forward when he presses into the wet fabric, immediately finding your puffy, aching clit applying just the right amount of pressure.

You moan obscenely at the miniscule amount of relief it provides, not finding it in yourself to care who could hear as he hooks his finger into the fabric, and ever so slowly begins to pull it to the side revealing your glistening pussy. You needed him to touch you.

“All this for me?” He hisses, looking down admiring the sight before him, ready to dip his finger into the sweet nectar. His cock already hard, stirring within its confines, aching at the thought of your warmth wrapped snugly around him.

Suddenly, a loud knock came at the door, pulling you both out of your lust fueled haze, as he quickly withdrew his hand helping you pull your dress back into place. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

“Uh… Steve?” Eddie's voice came muffled through the door.

“Fuck!” He hissed through gritted teeth. Resting his forehead to yours.

Eddie cleared his throat. “Sorry to… uh… interrupt but we've got some business to take care of.”

“Just give me a sec.” He grunted, cupping your cheeks gently, bringing his lips to your forehead placing a soft kiss there.

“I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“It's okay Steve. It's okay.” You smile, pulling back slightly. You knew what kind of things could draw him away. You'd seen it countless times with your father.

“I should get back out there before someone starts looking for me anyway.” Saying with a slight shrug, as he helped you down slowly from the desk, holding you close to his body.

Neither of you are quite yet ready to say goodbye, helping him straighten his suit and tie.

“I'll be in touch soon, I promise.” Wrapping his arms around you, as yours found their way around his neck, holding each other tightly as if it might be the last.

You weren't sure what to say, or if anything needed to be said so you stayed silent letting the stillness of the moment take over.

“I've got to go.” He reluctantly spoke, releasing his grip, only for his hand to find its way back to your cheek tilting your head gently for one more kiss. It was quick, because if he stayed any longer, he wouldn't be able to pry himself away. You both longed for so much more.

He let you go, taking a few steps to the door before he walked out of view.

You sighed, leaning back on the desk, head cloudy with thoughts of Steve. Giving him a head start, straightening your makeup and hair before heading back to the event.

Thoughts lingered on him the rest of the evening; a smile was plastered across your face as your cheeks began to ache later into the night. You were glowing after your interaction and wanted to hold onto this blissful high for as long as possible.

As the night came to an end, you were left with the cleanup crew once you had sent Abigail home. Typically, there was no reason to stay behind with them, but you were trying to avoid the inevitability of going back home.

You eventually retired to your office for a brief moment of peace before calling your driver.

Immediately you notice a small black box sitting on the top of your desk, as you shut the door behind you.

Quickly shuffling over, the fear that spiked your heart rate was swiftly dampened down when you spotted the key card you had snuck Steve earlier sitting beside it. You hadn't thought to retrieve it when you were interrupted, though you wouldn't care if he had kept it.

A small note was carefully laid out across the top. The first handwritten note he'd sent you in a long time, but you still recognized his articulate scrawl, as if every letter had been written with intent and purpose. You suppose it had.

For emergencies, or really anything. I don't like it when we can't keep in touch.

S.H.

A phone. A burner, you surmised, in the event you were caught with it no one could trace it back to him.

You held it in your palm, pulling up the contacts to a number that wasn't labeled.

You typed up a quick message and hit send. His response was almost instantaneous, as if he'd been waiting for it.

Sent 12:04 AM: Thank you.

921-987-5555 12:04 AM: You don't have to keep it on you. Just be careful if you do.

Sent 12:05 AM: Of course.

921-987-5555 12:04 AM: Have a good night, Dove. We'll chat soon.

Not soon enough. You thought to yourself, deleting the conversation before putting the phone away in the drawer and locking it. Better safe than sorry.

It was a silent ride home with a mind full of racing thoughts.

His lips, slow and passionate. Making sure you would never forget how he tastes.

His touch, yearning and possessive, sending your skin aflame; molding your pliable flesh to him.

When you were together, it didn't matter how much time had passed. There was only him. There would only ever be Steve.

You didn't bother trying to stay quiet as you entered the house, uncaring if Nik was already here. Things beyond your control were already in motion. You felt and air of change as you crossed the threshold.

Your heels clicked across the white marble flooring, as you reached out to take hold of the banister, but a guff voice drifting from the study suddenly made your blood turn cold.

You only knew him by his nickname that Nik and other Russian mob men call him, “Boogeyman.” His true identity was a secret, but Nik had called him in on occasion for unsavory propositions before.

In layman's terms, he was a hired hitman. One of the most ruthless hailing from Russia. Everyone knew of him and what he was capable of.

Stopping momentarily, you caught a bit of their conversation.

“Yes, of course old friend. This is just a precaution. Nothing set in stone, yet, as long as he stays out of my way there shouldn't be an issue.”

“No matter, young Petrov. I’ll be ready.”

They both laughed out, as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, hurrying up the stairs without a glance back.

Suddenly a whole new set of worries began to bubble up inside you as you found the safe haven of your room, thanking God for the newly installed lock.

The night full of promise and happiness was quickly turning into a nightmare. This was becoming far too much.

This journey wasn't going to be an easy one, it seemed at every turn there would be a new obstacle destined to cruelly keep you from the man you love.

This wasn't the end.

It was now up to you to move forward.

Taglist: @teen--marvel @micheledawn1975 @thecreelhouse @girlwiththerubyslippers @bunnyhargrove @taccobelle @madaboutjoe

Want to be added? Just let me know! ❤️

[cupofjoekeery]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄ Main Stranger Things Masterlist Main Fic Rec Masterlist Steve Harrington Fic Recs: Facade, Facade the Sequel - @familyvideowithsteve (18+ MDNI) King of Hearts - @yourfavoritewitchbitch (18+ MDNI)

My Name is whatever you decide - @upsidedownwithsteve (18+ MDNI) My Girl - @superblysubpar

The Lost Princess - @daydreampending (AO3) Worlds Apart - @liyliths Gates Of Hell - @aloneinthehellfire Come Home - @stevie-petey Adventures in Babysitting - @worth-the-chaos

Dancing With Our Hands Tied - @andvys (18+ MDNI) Should We Stay or Should We Go - @skyfallslayer Hard to Kill - @thecreelhouse (18+ MDNI) Petals for Armour- @maroon-cardigan (18+ MDNI) Dark Paradise - @maroon-cardigan (18+ MDNI) ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄ NOTE: Hey moots, if any of you see yourself tagged in the fic recs again its just me rearranging some things, so apologies if you receive another notification of me mentioning you in a post! :))

[crappymixtape]

baby let me in

REQUEST → @thecreelhouse , SUMMER BLURB PARTY ❝ 🌘 because of you prompt – angsty in-between at steve’s house post-upside down –* steve drives you home after vecna and cleans you up, but who’s gonna help him? | ( 1.2k – TW: blood, wounds, etc // steve harrington x reader, lovesick and a lil fluffy )

B A B Y L E T M E I N 🎶 even if the world don’t understand you, aquilo

Everything was a little hazy around the edges, soft in the low light of Steve’s parents’ room, your bare figures swimming in navy shadows and slivers of gold from the lamp on the nightstand. In any other circumstance this would feel different, charged, skin to skin on the bed and close enough to see the steady rising and falling of Steve’s breaths, but it wasn’t.

It felt like something between grieving and falling onto your knees in relief. Felt like gasping for air after being under water too long. Like you’d both lost something out there in the Upside Down and were leading each other through the dark, finding and feeling your way together.

Bent low over a box of medical supplies, Steve sorted through band-aids and rubbing alcohol, gauze and thread and needles – a first aid kit for monsters. He’d just finished cleaning and covering up the last cut on your back, hands sure and steady as he taped you up before carefully tucking the antibiotic ointment back into place.

The rush of adrenaline was long gone now, exhaustion creeping in around the edges of the bed as you sat knee to knee and cross-legged next to each other on the duvet. Steve had given you an old, oversized Journey tee to wear, the hem dancing just above your knees, but was shirtless himself. Wearing only a pair of old basketball shorts that hung low on his hips and you couldn’t help letting your eyes trail lazily over him.

Damp hair stuck messy across his forehead, a mark to match yours squeezing around his neck, his jaw half-cast in shadow – so stoic, so calm. His lashes were a long sweep over his cheek bones, gaze low in his lap, his lips twisted in concentration.

Pretty. So pretty. Even like this.

The muscles in his arm flexed as he spun the lid closed on the rubbing alcohol, his bare chest warm in the low light, like his skin held summer underneath it. You traced the bob of his Adam’s apple, the small tick of concentration in his jaw, soft slope of his shoulders, down, down, down, until your eyes caught on his shoulder blade.

Bright red.

An angry looking cut courtesy of a demobat or maybe the tangled vines that crept through the Creel house and it made your stomach knot with worry.

“Steve–” you started and it pulled his gaze up from his lap.

“Hm?” came out tired, but when he met your eyes and saw the furrow of your brow his own pinched together. “Oh–what is it? Your bandage?”

“No. It’s your shoulder blade,” you said softly, hand lifting to ghost over his back before pulling it back quickly.

He suddenly glanced away, nerves buzzing under his skin and shrugged it off, too casual for how bad it looked, “Oh, I’m okay.”

“Steve, it’s bleeding–”

“I’ll get it after I finish your stitches. Done it plenty of times.”

“But how can you reach–”

“Ah, I just turn around in the mirror and patch it up, it’s really no big deal. Don’t worry about me, Princess. I’ve had worse, it’s not impor–”

You grabbed his hand in yours, stopped him from digging out anymore supplies and he froze, the feeling of his fingers flexing against your palm making your heart stutter in your chest.

“Not important?” you finished his sentence for him, shaking your head, “Yes it is.”

Steve cleared his throat and tried to go back to finding a needle and thread, but you stopped him again and he listened this time.

“Let me help you…please?” you asked, meeting his gaze and his expression melted – soft, defeated.

“I just–it’s–it’s my job to take care of people, I gotta put them first because if I don't who's gonna make sure they're–”

“Steve,” you squeezed his hand, “It’s okay.”

And taking the box from him you let go of his hand and slowly moved around behind him, careful of your thigh, making sure to not bump the tape and gauze he'd pressed to it. Your eyes didn’t leave him, watching how his shoulders tensed, his pulse fluttering against his neck, the way he squeezed his eyes shut and tongue jammed into his cheek.

“It’s okay,” you said again and he nodded, eyes still closed.

“Okay,” he murmured.

Pulling a cotton ball from the supply box you uncapped the alcohol and wetted it, still watching. “This is probably gonna hurt,” you warned, eyes catching the way his hands balled into fists as he nodded quietly. Just get it over with. And when you pressed the cotton to his skin he sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth, a low rumble groaning in his chest.

“Sorry,” you worried, but he looped his hand around his back and pushed it to your waist.

“I’m alright, keep going,” he said, eyes still squeezed shut.

And so you cleaned it, slow, easy, gentle, as he winced and tensed and groaned, gripped your waist like a life line as you washed the blood from his back, red turning pink until you could see the cut clearly.

It wasn’t as bad underneath it all and when you placed the last piece of tape over the corner of gauze you let your hand linger on his back, your fingers resting on the ridge of his shoulder blade.

“Thanks,” he murmured, finally turning on the bed to face you.

A tiny smile flickered at the corner of your lips, but it faded the longer you looked at him. “Why don’t you think you’re important too?” fell out before you could bite it back and your cheeks warmed when his eyes widened.

“Well, I guess I just…I’m the oldest and those kids need me and as long as they’re safe then…” he drifted off at the end, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck and you took his hand again.

“Who’s making sure you’re safe?”

And it quickly pulled his eyes back up to meet yours. Warm honey and burnt caramel, a muddied mixture of surprise and bewilderment and deep gratitude.

“I…” he started, but couldn’t finish and you reached up to tuck a lock of hair out of his face.

“You’re important too, Steve,” you said softly.

And your words struck him heavy, his throat squeezing around everything he wanted to say to you, blinking rapidly against the stinging in the corners of his eyes. He tried to will it away but knew it was no use and closed them tight, tears slipping between his lashes and down his cheeks.

“Okay,” he said, voice thick as he let you pull him close to settle into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping wide and warm around your waist.

And you sat like that there in the dark of the room, in the strange little bubble you’d created for yourselves out of vulnerability and trust, peeling back your layers and letting each other in. Seeing each other for the first time. Learning each other for who you really were.

A new start. A fresh start.

I’ll make sure you’re safe.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[readingwithalyssaa]

Stranger things (june 8 2024)

18+

none of these fics belong to me!

masterlist of some of my favs!

Billy Hargrove

the funhouse @billysbabyy

Red @billysbabyy

run rabbit run @billysbabyy

Steve Harrington

and youre a liar @chelseeebe

the luck you hold @chelseeebe

in your corner @justmeinadaze

90s steve @dr-aculaaa

mean ex steve @taintedcigs 

Drunk @lovebugism

Mean @cherrychilli

i hate you baby @rustedhearts

frat boy steve @usedtobecooler

club bang @sideblog-ver3

strange love @littlexdeaths

Fic @thecreelhouse

Fic @ssweetleafBrunch @strangererotica

Steddie

Drunk @ghost-proofboy

two is better than one @munsonsbtch

Drunk @oneforthemunny

Aftercare @lovebugism

Public @upsidedownwithsteve

our lust increase, feeds desire @bimbobaggins69

therapist stevex bully eddie@ameliora-j

Blurb @bellatrixscurls

Teasing @eddies-whoreee 

Mean @eddiesghxst

Fic @strangerxperv

Fic @urhoneycombwitch

Punish @natti-ice

Fic @bbyhellfire

[urhoneycombwitch]

65 w/ sbeve (if ur up for it 🫶🏻)

65- “you’re being particularly insufferable today”

foreword: for Syl @thecreelhouse <3 from Lulu xx

cw: public sex (bar bathroom, no one sees/overhears), dommy Steve, hittin' it from the back in this one folks, R w breasts + V

___

Your hair is threaded between the fingers of Steve’s right hand, palm warm and wide at the back of your head, pressure light but enough to have your cheek pressing into the bathroom door. 

Your entire front is flush to the wood, as well- tits spilling obscenely from the front of your tight dress as Steve ruts into you, cock sliding easily with a coating of your arousal. He slides all the way into your pulsing cunt, hips stilling against yours, waiting for your breath to return in choking gasps before nipping behind your ear.

“Gotta be quieter than the music, right, honey?” His voice is caramel-sweet, in stark contrast to the sharp tug at the roots of your hair. “Don’t want the whole bar hearin’ you get these pretty brains fucked out.”

Another deep drag of his cock in, out, and this time when he sinks back into you he angles his hips up, hitting that gummy spot against your front wall. A whine slips out before you can catch it, thighs and knees trembling; Steve shifts to take more of your weight, pinning you in place and chiding again- “Hush. You can take it.”

You feel a little delirious, orgasm building at the edges of your pleasure, Steve’s fingers (the ones that aren’t pulling your hair) rubbing slick over your throbbing clit. In stilted whisper, you get out- “you’re b-being particularly- ah- insufferable, today, Steve.”

He chuckles without any humor (makes your damn toes curl), hitting that spot again just to see your brows pinch in pleasure. “Careful, baby, you know how riled up I get when you use big words.”

Caramel turned bittersweet, Steve’s using teeth set to bruise at the base of your neck, that sensitive spot where shoulder muscle curves in; a cry gets smothered behind your teeth as you squirm against the full, solid weight of him along your back. 

“That’s good,” he coos, purring and kissing over the mark he’s made, lips soft and repentant on your skin. “I’ll let you come before the song’s over if you keep this up.”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

You regret expending the effort it takes to get those words out because as soon as you do, Steve’s setting a merciless rhythm, pistoning into you with impressive speed and strength. The breath gets punched from your lungs (probably a blessing in disguise), jaw going slack in silent rapture, eyes rolling up behind fluttering lids. 

Steve murmurs your praises as he feels you clench tighter around his cock, picks up the pace to start fucking you through it. To your credit (and to the tune of Steve’s glowing compliments growing hoarser by the moment), you’re quiet when you come, biting into the meat of your own hand to stifle any noises that do manage to bleed through.

The same can’t be said for the moan Steve lets out as his cock pulses inside of you, way too loud for the small space- Jolene is playing over the bar speakers, but it isn’t totally enough to cover the sound of him coming. 

You laugh, unintentionally clenching up further, Steve nudging at your cheek with his nose, panting and whining now- “Honey- please. Please stop laughing. Fuck me…”

“Sorry-” you do your best to relax, giggles still overtaking in brief spasms- “...it’s just. You were way louder than I was. After all that ‘telling me to be quiet’ stuff…”

“All right.” Steve’s huffy (not annoyed enough yet to pull out, apparently), thumb skimming fondly over the curve of your arm. “Now who’s being insufferable.”

[littlexdeaths]

happy summer freaks!

below the cut are a list of some of my favorite works that i’ve read this summer, or ones that just give me summertime vibes.

this list is very long, and i am so sorry about that! these are all stranger things fics, but majority are eddie munson x reader.

he’s my favorite i can’t help it

all credit goes to these lovely writers 💕

one-shots/blurbs:

✧ orange peel skin by @hellfire--cult

rockstar eddie munson x best friend fem reader

✧ you and eddie attend a wedding together by @strangersmunsons

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ mutual pining by @thewayitalknj

best friend eddie munson x reader (idiots in love vibes)

✧ dark & stormy by @munson-blurbs

best friend eddie x fem reader

✧ warlock by @theold-ultraviolence

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ strapped in by @strangerstilinski

robin buckley x fem reader

✧ take a dip by @eiightysixbaby

lifeguard eddie munson x best friend fem reader

✧ sweet treat by @lokis-army-77

older eddie munson x fem reader

✧ start something by @mrsjellymunson

dm eddie munson x fem reader

✧ make me by @xxbimbobunnyxx

older diner owner eddie munson x fem reader

✧ arcade shenanigans by @lovebugism

eddie munson x reader (enemies to lovers vibes)

✧ body to flame by @stevenose

steve harrington x reader

✧ sundress lovin’ by @madelynraemunson

ex husband eddie munson x fem reader

✧ too close by @doomsdaybby

steve harrington x fem reader

✧ stop, in the name of love by @oneforthemunny

cop eddie munson x fem reader

✧ the pearl rosary by @fairyysoup

eddie munson x pastors daughter reader

✧ sweet girl by @thecreelhouse

steve harrington x reader

✧ you okay, honey? by @hawkinstales

eddie munson x fem reader

series:

✧ one step away from you by @eddiexmunsonlover

best friend eddie munson x plus size fem reader

✧ the do’s and don’ts of fake dating by @joequiinn

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ twenty four hours by @ghost-proofbaby

modern eddie munson x fem reader

✧ living after midnight by @munson-blurbs

failed rockstar eddie munson x motel worker reader

✧ too much in common by @munsonhoneybaby

eddie munson x henderson fem reader

✧ the more you give by @manicpixiedreamcurl

eddie munson x shy reader

✧ the third date by @rebelfell

eddie munson x anorgasmic reader

✧ cruel summer - ‘85 by @queenimmadolla

eddie munson x lifeguard (flayed) reader

✧ i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss by @andvys

steve harrington x fem reader x eddie munson

✧ boring! by @undead-supernova

eddie munson x confident fem reader

✧ i hate you, i love you by @loserboysandlithium

ex boyfriend eddie munson x fem reader

✧ show me by @eddiesxangel

older neighbor eddie munson x virgin reader

✧ not wholly evil by @uglypastels

pirate eddie munson x fem reader

[thefreaksrecs]

SYL OH MY GODDDDDDD

THIS BROKE MY BRAIN IN THE BEST WAY!!!!

i’m literally speechless.

but the way you incorporated the vines was so fucking clever, i literally cannot say enough good things omg.

but this part was probably my favorite because it made me giggle while still frothing at the mouth.

one sin leads to another

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader (AFAB, GN pronouns & pet names)

Summary: The gate closes before you can follow your friends through it, leaving you and Steve in the Upside Down to fend for yourselves. Searching for another way home, you lose yourself on a detour neither you or Steve could even imagine.

WC: 10.7k (oops)

Includes: friends to lovers (more like idiots to sluts— now with Feelings™️!), some angst, straight up filth— sex pollen, tentacle-esque vines, dub-con, spit kink, frotting, heavy petting, oral sex (m & f receiving), PiV unprotected sex, dirty talk, switch!reader, switch!steve, dacryphilia (kinda? sorta? maybe?), light anal play (m receiving), choking, cum play, semi-mind manipulation (? Not sure how to tag that one), hurt/comfort (re: abandonment issues), happy ending

A/N: it’s funny how i thought sex pollen fics were a joke years ago but ended up here………. anyway. is this ridiculous? yes. does it make sense? fuck no. is there a plot? maybe if you squint real hard, from space. if this is your kind of thing, cool! i hope you like it! if not, don’t you have something better to do? bye. (banners and dividers made by @saradika-graphics! and i can’t draw hands to save my life, so those brushes came from this artist here.)

read on AO3 || dusk ▸ chelsea wolfe

“and I would give you my life / one sin leads to another / and I would go through the fire / to get to you”

Cheating death at its own game is sure one hell of a drug.

Maybe that’s what’s running through your veins tonight: pure adrenaline. And anxiety. And dread. … And maybe some hopelessness.

“We’re so fucked. We’re so, so fucked, Steve.”

You had been walking around for god knows how long, in search of a gate to go the fuck home. Robin, Eddie, and Nancy made it through the one at Eddie’s trailer, but, just your luck, it closed before you or Steve could make it to the other side.

Ready to collapse against a rotting tree, with vines twisting around its crumbling trunk, Steve jerks you away, keeping himself calm and only releasing a harsh exhale through his nose.

“I told you about those vines,” He hisses, grip tightening with the irritation in his words. “For once, just once, would you listen to me?”

When your eyes won’t meet his, guilt washes over him.

“Look, I—“ He can’t bring himself to apologize. What the hell am I sorry for? “Just… stick close to me, alright?”

Yeah, there’s definitely a ton of hopelessness drowning you from the inside out right now. You hug yourself weakly, shaking your head.

“We’re never gonna find a gate, we’re gonna die out here.”

This— the Upside Down and all its horrors, wrapped up in a little, filthy, decaying bow— isn’t new to Steve. To you, though, this is a brand new, shiny, living nightmare.

“And we’ll fucking die out here if we don’t try.” He’s losing his patience, despite reminding himself this all freaked him the fuck out years ago when he first was roped into it all. He’s trying, really, he is, but the constant cloud you drag over your head is swallowing any hope into darkness. “I need you to get your shit together, and be quiet.”

Steve knows it’s not your fault; you were kept in the dark up until tonight. 

After graduation, you isolated yourself, and no one could figure why. What happened? What could’ve set it off? You were rarely seen outside of your home, unless at work, running for necessities, or finding comfort in your local video store. It helped to play movies on in the background, helped drown out the deafening silence of your lifeless home.

Visiting Family Video often had pipelined to a rekindled connection with Steve; once your childhood friend, even a silly crush you hadn’t moved on from— before the facade of popularity ran straight to his head— now just a stranger who fell from grace. Trusting him again hadn’t been easy, but watching how easily his and Robin’s friendship flowed gave you some peace of mind.

It wasn’t until the day Dustin and Max ran in, desperate to find Eddie’s whereabouts as you browsed the new releases, that you got sucked into this entire mess. It wasn’t until then, that the side you were convinced Steve had grown out of began to show again.

Following carefully behind him, he spits, “You should’ve stayed the fuck home.”

And yeah, maybe you should’ve, but in the whirlwind of it all, you were caught up every bizarre moment with everyone, no end or exit in sight.

You keep quiet, hoping if you let him vent, he’ll eventually cool off.

Naturally, he doesn’t.

“This would’ve been avoided if you stayed on shore with the kids.”

Steve can’t see it, but you nod silently behind him, tiptoeing around the vines.

“Nobody asked you to get in the boat.”

“Well, no, but I—“

“No one said you had to swim to the bottom of the lake, too.”

You can clearly hear the way he grits his teeth as he speaks. Your throat burns as you swallow the temptation to give into crying.

“I was scared, you all left, I- I didn’t know what to do—“

“Oh, like none of us are scared? Grow the fuck up.”

With each word he hurls your way, dripping with vitriol, he can feel the regret only grow bigger, and bigger. Yet he can’t stop.

“You’ve been through this before!”

Steve stops abruptly, scoffing as he turns around with his arms crossed over his chest. He glares at you, watching his step before meeting you, toe to toe, way too close for your comfort. 

“Yeah, without a crybaby like you.”

“Oh, crybaby, really, Steve? Really? Is that the best you can come up with?” You roll your eyes; you have to, or you’ll start crying, proving him right. “How about you try growing the fuck up for once?”

“The best I can come up with would drive you away again.” He shakes his head. “And I’m really not trying to hurt you.”

“How thoughtful of you, asshole.”

Steve runs a hand down his mouth, glancing away from you to sigh.

“Maybe fixing our friendship was a mistake.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes searching his for any sort of bluff. “You… you don’t mean that.”

He doesn’t answer you, only staring back as your bottom lip trembles.

There’s no use trying to hide your tears. Why did you have to be an angry crier? Why couldn’t you shout back, or give a cold shoulder, anything else, when you’re rightfully pissed off? On top of that, all you want to do is get far away from here, far away from Steve.

“Great.” He scoffs, watching your face twist into distress and rage. “Just great. Here we go with the—“

Shoving Steve away, you run off in the opposite direction, no care for where you’ll end up. Splitting up is a death wish, but you’d rather take your chances facing an imminent end than be berated by Steve.

Time is completely lost on Steve as he pedals through the decrepit mirror of Hawkins in search of you.

“Fuck, shit—“ He’s worn down, energy nearly nonexistent after swimming down to the gate in Lovers’ Lake, battling off the demobats to survive, and now, this.

You’re nowhere to be found, and guilt is eating Steve alive; if a monster doesn’t tear him to shreds, the regret of letting you go will. He’s checked every possible hiding place that crossed his mind, but not a trace of you can be found.

This could’ve been avoided if Steve kept his cool, didn’t lash out at the last person to deserve such jagged words thrown at them. He knows that. He knew it as you shoved him away. Worst of all, he let his pride take the wheel and watch you run off, then turned away to continue through the woods alone.

That only lasted a few minutes until remorse and common sense took over, shaking him by the shoulders to get a fucking grip. He had to find you, alive, and get you home safely. There were no other options or plans; this was a rescue mission, not one of recovery.

If it wasn’t so dangerous, Steve would be shouting your name, but he can’t risk attracting unwanted attention to either of you.

What the fuck do I do?

Rattling him from his thoughts, the bike’s front tire rolls over something in the road, catching his eye; he squeezes the hand brakes roughly, skidding along gravel, rolling to a stop. Throwing the bike to the side, he rushes over to an object in the road—

It’s your shirt, torn to shreds and left behind.

Bile rises in Steve’s throat, yet as he notices there’s no blood, the panic-induced nausea is suppressed. 

Think, think, think— where the fuck would they be?

A scream pierces the unsettling silence hanging over him, violently grabbing his attention; his stomach drops as he recognizes his surroundings. An ominous, familiar shell of a building he knows once held hell itself in— at least, in his dimension, not here. 

Now, though, the sounds of torment and a contrast of shimmering lights, pouring out of the windows, are enough to come off as a candy-coated nightmare.

Glittering out of the building are specks of rose-gold light, almost eerily similar to the ones you all found in Nancy’s room, communicating with the others through the Lite Brite. Some speckle across his skin, lightly tickling him.

 It’s the first thing to really draw Steve in as they swirl around him. The second thing: your screams pouring out of the broken windows.

“Shit.”

The remnants of your shirt slip from Steve’s fingers as he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s to come as he dashes towards Hawkins Laboratory.

It doesn’t take long to find you. Following the sounds of terror and shimmering lights, Steve stumbles upon you in a mostly empty exam room. Save for the stainless steel exam table, vacant, open cabinets, and slithering vines, of course. 

They’re slipping in from the outside, through cracks in the walls and missing tiles from the floor. An unknown blooming plant, mimicking the petals of a demogorgon, is rooted in the middle of the room, illuminated. A rose-gold glow pulsates around it, petals slowly unfurling, and waving back inward. It almost looks like it’s breathing.

It is breathing.

Steve scans the room, finding you in the waves of glittering light, breaking through the shadows. You’re pinned against the wall, in a barely conscious daze as the vines wind themselves around your wrists and ankles. Missing most of your clothing, you’re left in what’s remaining of your underwear; he does his best to shy away from ogling at your bare chest. 

Worst fucking time for that.

 Frozen in fear, he witnesses another vine unravel from the ceiling, caressing your face before circling your neck. One step in the door, he stops as you whimper, arching your back off the wall as the vine tightens its grip everywhere, including around your throat. Yet another slithers up to you, teasing its way to your core. It flicks itself softly along the apex of your thighs, drawing out from you a pathetic, shaky moan.

Too tight. Steve’s pants are too fucking tight, and this is not the time or place to become aroused like some kind of pervert.

Focus. You need to get them out of here, safely, and for good.

He runs across the room, barely passing the shimmering plant before a saccharine aroma slams into him.  Entranced, he stops for a moment to stare at the bizarre bloom, and that’s his first mistake; a vine whips around from behind, hooking him in by his waist.

It’s not until another vine winds around one wrist, then another, that he realizes he’s in peril. Yet, he’s slow to react; by now, he’d be kicking and screaming, but his legs have been restrained, too. He’s calm, too calm for what’s unfolding.

“Shit—“ He writhes in the grasp of the vines, but they keep a steady hold, a nonverbal promise they’ll never let go. 

A needy noise slips out of you, but it’s muffled quickly; Steve jerks his head up, observing in horror the vine that has snuck past your pretty, pliant lips. Groaning around the appendage, your eyes roll back as it sinks deeper toward your throat.

“H- hey, this is—“ Steve has to put all of his energy into breaking from a daze his mind so badly aches to fall into. “Hey! Stop!”

Who he’s yelling to, he’s unsure, but it’s a fruitless attempt to take the vines’ attention away from you; there’s just far too many, more than enough to hold the both of you captive with ease.

Concern slowly falls away, hypnotized by the way you’re sucking and gagging on one of the vines. Something about the scene before him is arousing, and before shame can take over, slap some sense into him, pins and needles take over his entire being. It’s an intense, tingling sensation, riding high under his skin and through his veins. The longer he fixates on the way you’re being used, the more he begins to burn everywhere.

Steve’s only uncomfortable at first, just enough where he can still tolerate it. The warmth building within him begins to radiate through his skin, starts to make him sweat.

When the vines drag you closer to him, leaving the two of you suspended by their hold off of the floor, the heat heightens. He becomes feverish, burning becoming more and more unbearable as the seconds pass.

Eyes parting open, you whine in desperation at the sight of him; you need his help, and that’s enough to just barely break through the trance again. The vine in your mouth retreats completely, leaving you panting and drooling down your chest.

“Steve?” Unaware your vision was blurred before it begins to refocus, taking in the sight of Steve struggling against his own set of vines holding him hostage. Your mind fights to break through the haze that’s comfortably settled over any other thoughts or feelings, but it’s no use.

 All you want— no, need— is him.

“It hurts, Steve,” You don’t have the chance to elaborate before the vines tormenting him are ripping the majority of his clothes off, too. 

There wasn’t much to begin with, besides his pants and Eddie’s vest, but now the prominent outline of his bulge is clear as day before you. His shallow breaths quicken in a panic, head jerking around to watch more vines gang up on him.

“H- help,” You rasp out as a vine glides against your still-clothed cunt. Grinding down on it, you find some relief, but nowhere near enough to take the pain away. Everything has been burning since you’ve been trapped, to the point where the pain is so sharp, it starts to feel ice cold all over.

“I’m— I- I’m trying,” He sounds so exasperated, wrestling against the lengths that keep him stationary. “What hurts? M’gonna g- get us out of here, okay? Just—“ A flash of searing pain rolls through him, and he cries out.

You should be scared. Honestly, you are scared. That doesn’t put your filthy thoughts on hold, though. Another vine spirals up Steve’s leg, tearing his briefs off and springing his cock free. He groans at the relief as it slaps against his lower tummy, pearlescent pre dripping down his length as it kicks. Your next thought, a poorly timed fantasy, barely registers when you’re watching it play out in real life.

Head lolling back with a guttural groan, the vine slithers flush against his shaft, slowly rutting against it. He can’t resist meeting its thrusts for extra euphoria, practically frotting with it. When his head falls forward, staring down with lust-heavy lids, he whines, shudders, and a sob follows. He looks so pained, so desperate, enveloped in nothing but sinful desires.

Licking his lips, Steve’s gaze is back on you, on your chest, specifically. A vine, the slimiest one you’ve encountered yet, toys with your nipples, leaving them peaked, aching, and soaked with whatever filthy, syrupy substance these creepers are drenched in. 

His pupils darken over the view, and through the thick fog of lust, something hits you.

“Steve… what are you thinking about? R- right now— ah!” One opens wide at its end, mimicking the pulsating flower nearby; it attaches itself to your nipple, suckling softly. The other side is latched onto by another crawling appendage, mirroring the first.

Where there should be shame and guilt, both are replaced by greedy lust, so he answers honestly.

“M’thinkin’…” He shudders as another vine wraps around the one moving in time with his cock, almost guiding the two in identical thrusts. “Wanna taste ‘em. Tease ‘em all night.”

You gasp at how forward he is, “F- fuckin’— I- I—“ There’s a flicking motion rolling against both nipples, like the vines have goddamn tongues now.

This is all beginning to feel like the plot of a very terrible porno.

To test your theory once more, you imagine one of the inhuman lengths opening its end, like the ones currently latched to you, sucking on his cock’s neglected head.

And it does.

Grunting, Steve’s jaw drops, helplessly watching the third vine suckle on his throbbing tip.

“I- I think this— we— somehow our thoughts—“ It’s way too fucking hard to focus with how sinfully good these vines feel against you, just barely easing the pain. “They k- know what we’re thinking and acting on our d— fuck— d- desires.”

Steve’s face is flushed crimson, eyes heavy with lust and exhaustion as he glances up at you.

“Huh?” It takes a minute for him to process your revelation, smirking when it clicks for him. “Like…. this?”

Your underwear are ripped away without Steve even touching you. The invasive creature teases along your folds, flicking ever so softly against your clit. Hips jerking forward, you manage to narrow your stare at him.

“Y- yeah, like that, but that— we— maybe if we think about stopping, it’ll let us go.”

Another beat of silence floats heavily between the two of you, until he breaks it.

“Wh— maybe I don’t wanna st- s- stop.”

This shouldn’t turn either of you on. At all. This is wrong. This is beyond fucked.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, honey.”

Your stomach flips, and you’re a goner, admiring the way Steve bites his lip harshly while rubbing against  a vine.

“St— f- fuck!” A tiny, nearly shoelace-thin sized vine opens wide before latching onto your clit, suckling away. “Oh, f- fuck you, Steve.”

“M’trying to get there.” The sinful scene of several vines manipulating your body deep into pleasure is almost enough to make him come. You tremble in their relentless grip, whimpering as you try squirming away from the one on your clit. “S’okay, just let go. I’ve got you.”

“You don’t have me, the fuckin’ vines do!” 

“Same thing! Didn’t think o— ah— ah!” Another length slithers up to tease his balls, while the others still keep their steady pace frotting and sucking. “Fu- fuck you!”

In a nasally, whiny voice, you mock him, “I’m trying to get there.”

“Okay, ye- yeah, real mature,” In retaliation, he imagines a vine occupying your mouth again, and it does within seconds. Sliding between your lips like before, your eyes roll back, groaning around the appendage. “Much better. You always talk so fuckin’ much.”

Climax hitting like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under, far from sanity, you feel full. Nothing is inside you, not even a vine, but you feel like you’re filled to the brim.

And Steve, a strong, fluttering grip wraps around his cock; though invisible, it feels like he’s coming while deep inside of you— not that he’d know, not yet, at least. It’s a tighter hold than the vine wrapped around his length, and it makes no goddamn sense.

This entire place has never made sense, though, why attempt to figure it out now?

From between your swollen lips, the vine retreats, leaving you to pant and drool onto yourself all over again. If the winding, hellish plants weren’t holding you in place, you’d have surely fallen over by now.  Fighting to stay conscious, you fixate on Steve as he catches his breath; lids heavy, shoulders heaving as he slows his panting, it’s an eerily similar sight to his state earlier, after killing a demobat with his bare hands.

This time, though, he’s still restrained by some unworldly creature, allowing his body to fall limp in its hold.

This time, it’s not blood dripping from his lips— thank fuck— just a lot of spit. Like, a lot. It tumbles from his pretty, pliant lips with ease, glistening as it runs down his chest, sticking to the soft yet thick hair on his body.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ— you can’t take this anymore.

“Did that— are you— did it help?” You manage to croak out. Steve barely shakes his head, whining; you’re not sure why you’re the one more in tune with the situation than he is, but you’re not going to let either of you suffer any longer. “Didn’t help me either, it— fu- fuck, it felt good, but it’s— I still— it still hurts so bad, Steve.”

Lifting his head weakly, he glances over at you, only feet away, “Hurts me too, s’hot, every— it burns—“ Steve winces, hisses as the fire within him continues to burn white-hot. “S’cold, too, I- I don’t fucking get it.”

“Can I try something? I don’t… M’not sure how else to stop this,” You murmur, feeling hopeless.

If only you hadn’t run off, just like the crybaby Steve pinned you to be. Neither of you would be in such a disgusting disaster like this.

“An- anything, please,” Steve’s desperate; he’ll take any relief at this point. He lolls his head towards the suspicious bloom, hypnotized by it’s captivating glow. “M- maybe we should touch it—“

“Steve, don’t.”

His lips curl downward into a nearly comical pout, but this entire situation, no matter how bizarre and outlandish, is very real, and the pain you’re both tempted to succumb to isn’t something to laugh off.

Struggling against the vines, he tries to reach towards the plant, but it’s useless. Your thoughts and desires are still connected somehow to the vines, and he’s too drunk on pleasure to use this detail to his advantage; it’s simple, to imagine him restrained tightly by the vines, only for them to hold him still as he writhes in their grip.

“Please?” He’s so deliciously pathetic like this, exposed and bound by monstrous entities. “I- I need— this— you—“ He stops himself, eyes glazing over as he pleads with his stare for some kind of relief.

You shouldn’t take advantage of this, you really shouldn’t, but there were two factors adding to your inner conflict—

1: You’re also suffering, desperate for relief of some kind, any kind. You’re just handling it with more… grace, for lack of a better term, than he is. 

2: Steve Harrington is the reason you’re both in this mess to begin with. And, sure, you’re just at fault, but  that fucker made you feel low enough to run off into danger.

He owes you something. He owes you an apology, at the very fucking least.

“B- baby? C’mon, I— please?” The longer he radiates such a pathetic, needy energy, the more you feel sorry for him. 

Realistically, you also owe Steve an apology, at the very fucking least.

Breathily, you bargain with him, “I can— I’ll help you f’you help me?”

Ogling at the arousal dripping down your thighs, he doesn’t respond at first.

“Steve.”

“H- huh?” You’ve lost count over how many times he’s licked his lips over the sight of you. “Oh, shit, sh— yeah, uh-huh, anything, I- I’ll— I fucked up, baby—“

Your mind would be spinning alone from the way he calls you ‘baby’, if it weren’t for the fact that moments before this, the two of you quite literally mind fucked one another using the vines.

Trying to imagine the vines releasing the two of you, it’s the only desire that doesn’t come to life. 

Shit.

You think about the vines bringing the two of you together, bodies nearly touching, and in an instant, they grant that wish. He’s dying to look at you, but he’s caught up in the sight of your chest against his; both of you still panting, bodies melding into one another as they concave and convex in perfect harmony.

“So… so fuckin’ pretty—“

“Steve, they won’t let us go, we— we’re gonna have to work ‘round that, okay?”

Finally, Steve lifts his head, gasping softly when he realizes how close your faces are to one another.

“Fuck,” He breathes, blissed-out gaze falling to your lips.

You can’t help mirroring him. “Yeah, fuck.” 

A vine winds around your waist, securing you flush against Steve as it pulls him in, too. He shudders against you, painfully hard and hot-to-the-touch member sliding between your legs, along your folds. When it grazes your clit, equally aching and searing with an unbearable heat, the two of you cry out at the brief window of relief.

“This is fucking crazy…” He breathes against your lips. You nod, brushing your mouth against his, and he  gutturally moans from the slightest touch. “Taste so… so good. Need you s’bad.”

God, you need this, you need him too, but this will change everything between the two of you, forever.

“No going back after this, Steve,” You restrain yourself, though your hips twitch against his, core dripping onto his shaft. “L- like once we—“

He manages to break from the haze, for only a moment, “Shit’s already weird. We’re far past the point of n— oh— f- f- fuck—“ You glide against him as his cock nestles between your folds. He fights to regain some composure, nodding frantically. “W- weird. It’s weird. It’s— fuck, just— kiss m—“

Sloppily, you smash your lips against his, not even bothering to ease in with a soft, sweet kiss. No, you’re hungrily kissing him, aching for more, more, more. Parting his mouth against yours, Steve hums and moans as his tongue flicks against yours. It’s messy, causing you both to drool on one another; it would absolutely turn the two of you off outside of this moment, but right now you can’t get enough of him.

You’re both distracted, too lost in one another to notice the bloom’s glow sparkling even brighter. Glittering particles float delicately over the two of you, tickling your skin with pinprick bursts of relief; they only last for a second, but it’s a sensation you’ll gladly accept.

Groaning into him, he pulls back as the little specks of light dance across his skin; he’s licking his goddamn lips again, smirking, unable to look away from you.

Unbeknownst to you both, the illuminating dust radiating off of the bloom just pulls you deeper into lust. The further you lose yourself in chasing bliss, the dryer your mouth becomes, the more antsy your body is— this is only getting worse.

“C- can I— I gotta— need to taste you, honey…” Steve nuzzles his nose against your cheek, whimpering as the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “Please? I- I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“It’s not up to m- me, Steve…” His tip presses into you, just barely, and you’re ready to suck him in, but you resist. The vines don’t force it. 

Falling silent, he concentrates on the position he wants the two of you tangled in; pulled to the grimy floor, back against the filthy tile, the vines keep Steve pinned in place. He grunts, wriggling against their grip, but knows it’s pointless. 

The rope-like creatures pull you down, but in a peculiar position above him.

“Oh— Steve, what the—“

“C’mon, please? Please, please, please—“

You shut him up by lapping at the head of his cock; he jerks underneath you, thrusting up toward your mouth, a reaction to your touch. The vines bind the two of you together, where legs meet arms, and wind around your torsos, for good measure; you’re bound perfectly in a 69 position. He wastes no time, flitting his tongue against your swollen clit before sloppily making out with your cunt. 

“God— fuck— fuck!”

You take him in all the way, nose nestling against his balls as he fills your throat. Steve can’t help the way he fucks up into your mouth, gagging you. 

“M’sorry, oh, god, I’m— I- I’m so sorry,” He sobs into your folds, sucking your clit roughly— once, twice, three times, before tapering his tongue and fucking your entrance. 

That apology dissolves quickly as you involuntarily grind on his face.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Even muffled, he’s so smug about it, lapping up every inch of you he can reach. “Ri- ride my face, baby. Just like that.”

Steve’s always had a reputation for being smooth with his lovers, so to hear him stutter constantly around you is getting to your head.

It’s obscene, the way he slurps and sucks so loudly at your cunt, only spurring you on to fully take him, all of him, gagging around the base of his length each time your face meets the tufts of trimmed curls around his cock. 

You’ve never given, nor received, head like this before, and god damn, it’s sinful. Downright filthy, pornographic, absolutely lewd and out of your comfort zone— except right now, it feels perfect. You can’t get enough of one another, and it shows in the way you devour him, and how he reciprocates ten fold.

It startles you to feel his strong hands hold your hips, keeping you close to his face; the vines still keep him restrained, but loose enough to give him some creative freedom. 

And Steve has no problem getting creative.

“Wait— hey- h- hang on—“

The slick tip of a vine dances along your entrance, teasing you. There’s no holding back any pathetic noises by now; the two of you are completely at the will of these grotesque extensions of this wasteland, only able to control them so much. 

“What’re you scared of? Didn’t you get fucked dumb on these yet?”

“N- no.” You try to crane your neck, try to glance back, but a vine winds around your throat, and you panic. “Fuck— fuck! Steve, stop—“‘

“It’s not me, I- I swear—“ He’s cut off as another length slinks around his throat, too. It’s too reminiscent of the bat that tried choking the life out of him just hours ago. He rasps out weakly, “Sh- shit—“

Steve’s mind spirals while he begins to hyperventilate; This is bad. This is really, really, really fucking bad.

There’s nothing either of you can do, not while you’re trapped, bound together by the most repulsive, living restraints. An idea— albeit a terrible one, but it’s an idea— crosses your mind. 

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to your own brain right now, and you’ll regret it later, but all you can do is plunge your mouth back onto him. Hoping to appease the vines, you hope that it gives him a needed distraction from the panic, too.

 Within seconds, the vine around Steve’s throat releases, and he’s left gasping for air. 

Yet the rush of that, and your mouth working on him intensely is enough to draw his balls up, hips bucking and forcing his length to the back of your throat. Spit is practically pouring like a faucet from between your lips and his shaft, down onto his lap.

“M’gonna— I— hah- ah—“ Steve silences himself, barely catching his breath before delving into your folds, sucking crudely on your clit; the vine still hooked around your neck finally loosens, too. Your thighs attempt to slam shut, crowding around his head as he grunts into you. 

All fear dissipates again as the two of you lose yourselves in the pleasure of an impending high.

“Could eat ya’ all fucking night,” He mumbles into your pussy, kissing, sucking, lapping in a pattern that’s sure to make you crumble any second now. When you try responding, despite knowing you’ve got his cock shoved to the hilt down your throat, he slams his hips up into you. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s fuckin’ rude.”

This is absolutely a bad porno; one too corny even for that back room in Family Video.

… But it’s still enough to shove you over the edge. 

You’re moaning so loudly, you’re sure if he wasn’t stuffing your face, you’d be easily heard from this dimension into your own. You’re grinding onto his mouth with everything you’ve got, twitching and fluttering around nothing yet again, soaking his face.

Steve’s not too far behind you; the way you gag and attempt to cry out on his cock is enough to make him finish. He holds his grip on you tightly, groaning so roughly, his voice cracks; you’re certain there’ll be bruises around your thighs, and he’ll lose his voice later.

“Fuck— god—“ He gasps, eyes rolling back as he shakes, spilling his arousal down your throat. You try swallowing, and manage to take most of it, but there’s too much; you pop off of him, spend still pulsating from his slit.

Still catching your breath, the vines manhandle you off of him, just to flip you around and bind the two of you together, flush up against one another again. Your faces almost touch; both of you take a second to get a better look at the other, equally ashamed and aroused.

Covered in your own slick and his sweat, Steve’s face glistens as he breathlessly smiles up at you. Eyes glued on you, he admires the way his arousal sticks to your lips, dripping down your chin onto him.

“Hey, are you ok— oh— uh—“ 

Licking at the corner of your mouth, he allows the sticky spend to trail back onto his tongue.

This kiss isn’t as rushed, but it’s just as sloppy as the first; the messes on your faces combine, making it easy to taste one another, swapping arousal between your tongues. When you pull back, a string of saliva follows from your lips to his. He flits his tongue out to catch it, desperate for the taste of you in any form he can get it.

“Open your mouth,” You order, and happily he obeys, tongue out, too. Slowly, you spit into his mouth, slick drooling onto his taste buds. On contact, his eyes roll back with a gravelly groan, hips rutting into yours. “Good boy.”

Steve shudders, precum already leaking onto both of your stomachs. You’re both impressed and a little freaked out.

“How are you hard again?”

“Never stopped, won’t go away,” He rasps, brows knitting together as his eyes flutter shut; a pained expression takes over. “It— it hurts, baby.”

“What hurts, Stevie?”

Whining, he writhes underneath you, certainly not helping either of you as his member rubs against your clit. 

“Fuck, don’t— will you stop humping me for five fucking seconds?! Can’t fucking think when you do that—“

Like the petty son of a bitch Steve Harrington is, he thrusts up against you, biting his lip through his cocky power trip.

“This is your fault!”

“Here we fucking go…”

“Didn���t think you were so desperate to get fucked you’d let yourself get groped by these fuckin’ things—“

“No, enough, we’re not playing this game, Steve.”

Wordlessly, Steve has the vines yank you off of him, tossing you onto the exam table to pin you down. They’re much gentler with him, easing him off the floor, almost allowing him to walk towards you. He clambers up onto the table, towering over you.

“We both want this, what’s the problem?”

“You! You’re the problem, Steve. You’re always the problem! I’m not some part-time, back-burner friend for you to abandon when you’re bored!” The words leave your lips before you realize the damage they hold, watching as Steve’s face falls. “Wait, St— I didn’t mean that— I—“

He’s so torn, conflicted in the whirlwind of emotions and desires that goddamn blooming plant has the two of you drowning in. He hates that he hurt you earlier, made you feel like running off was better than sticking with him, staying safe under his protection. He regrets anything he’s said to hurt you— tonight, in the past— anything that’s harmed you when he should’ve continued to care for you, he wishes he could take it all back.

And yeah, he knows you have every right to be mad. You have every right to lash out and express the hurt this caused.

But to be called a problem? Something about that hits so deep, too deep, he’s not sure where to begin, to try untangling why it aches so badly. That’s all he’s ever felt like, to everyone, during everything— a problem. One big, never-ending problem.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t— that was so fucked up for me to say.” You try sitting up, want to hold him, make it well known he’s the complete opposite of a problem to you. The vines, however, have no issue keeping you pinned to the stainless steel surface. 

To your surprise, he pushes past it. You can see the hurt in his eyes, but the control he’s under forces that to the back of his mind.

“Shouldn’t have told you it’s your fault,” He mutters, leaning down towards you, kissing your neck lazily. It’s safer to keep moving, keep pleasuring one another, so the vines don’t attempt choking the two of you again. “I was so mean to you earlier—“

“Had every right to be, I really was a cry—“ A sharp gasp cuts your own words off as his smooth, ruddy tip brushes against your clit. You instantly feel relief from an ache you had forgotten about among all of the emotional pain. “St— Steve… again…”

Your senses are hyper aware, as you assume his are too; it’s so easy to feel his slit right against your throbbing clit as he rubs himself against you.

“S’okay, honey, gonna make y’feel better.”

 It’s like relief is almost in reach, just far enough from your fingertips to try grasping it; this isn’t enough. You need him inside you. You need him to ruin you.

“Apologies later, okay?“

“Uh-huh…” He must be thinking about the vines spreading your legs, because they split apart with ease, held back by their strength. Which, honestly, right now you’re kind of glad they’re doing the work instead of you. “Gotta help each other.”

It’s unreal how soaked you both are, trembling as he slides his length between your folds with ease. The two of you are hot to the touch, alarmingly hot.

“Still hurts?”

“So fucking bad, so—“ You reel back a sob, taking a deep breath. Your palm splays wide open, fingers wiggling weakly towards him. He takes the hint, sliding his fingers between yours before giving a firm, steady grip. “St- Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?” He sounds so winded, restraining himself from railing you into the table. 

“Don’t hold back.”

The words barely leave your lips before your vision goes white; a ringing in your ears drowns out surrounding sounds, but it doesn’t last very long. It takes a second to realize what’s happening.

The sinful bliss you were submerged into was Steve slamming into you all at once. You’re gasping, trying to catch your breath as the focus comes back to your vision.

“I didn’t mean t- to— the vines pushed me,“ He whimpers, shoved in to the hilt, throbbing against your velvety, tight walls. “I- I was gonna go slow, I didn’t wanna hurt you—“

“S’okay, I wanted it,” You croak out, clamping down onto him. Steve’s eyes roll back before ducking his face into your neck as you confess, “I’ve always wanted it.”

“Always wanted y— this.” He nearly fumbles the correction. The vines pull his arms behind his back; despite the lack of upper-body support, he has no problem fucking you fast and deep. “Even if y- you’re an idiot. Pretty, but a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Could say the same about— ah! Ah— y- you, asshole.” He rests his forehead on yours, shallow, rapid breaths tearing through him, meeting your own. “You’re— could’ve warned me you’re s- so fucking big.”

Despite hitting rock bottom in the sea of lust, he manages to laugh weakly against your lips. “What— you just sucked the life out of my dick! You knew what I— I’m— ” He’s flustered trying to point out that you did see and feel how big he was, while still trying to stay humble.

How fucking precious.

“Christ, your dirty talk is weak,” You tease, scrunching your face as your tongue pokes out. Steve takes the opportunity to kiss you, parting your lips with his before sucking softly on your tongue. It’s fucking weird, but oddly enough, such a fucking turn on, too. 

Some vines dip their very tapered tips into your mouth, just at the corners to pull your lips apart. Steve spits onto your tongue, shuddering over the way you squirm. Another vine circles the base of his cock, giving a taunting squeeze.

“Not as weak as you and— a— “  Words collapsing on his tongue, he realizes that he’s no match for the vines and what your filthy thoughts are capable of. He’d take control, but it just feels wrong not succumbing to your desires over his own. “Tight, too fucking t— tight—“

The vines holding your lips retreat. “You can’t finish a sentence around me, can you?”

“Huh?” He stares down at you, puzzled, as your walls hold him deep within you; there’s no letting go, not now, and to him, not ever.

“You’re this pussy drunk already? Seriously?” Where the confidence stems from, you’re unsure, but you’re running with it against your own free will. “I knew you liked me, but I didn’t think you were down this bad.”

Steve slams into you mercilessly. “Shut.” He thrusts again. “Up.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” 

Tightening around his wrists, the vines tug him back, preventing any further movement.

“Wh— what the fuck— hey!” He wriggles against the relentless grip, brows knit together and nostrils flaring as he sighs roughly. “Enough of this shit!”

A laugh slips past your lips, but Steve’s unamused. 

“Say please.”

Now he scoffs a laugh. “Fuck you.”

“You’re already doing that, babe.” Your gaze falls between your bodies, fixating where you both meet. “Or, well, you were. What happened, Stevie? Guess the rumors in school were never true, huh?”

The jab clears the haze, for a moment. “Will you— I’m trying to get us out of here, stop being such a b—“

The vine at the base of his shaft tightens, strangling out a moan.

“Does someone need a break?” You pout up at him, only for a vine to pull your bottom lip down; your mouth opens just enough to spit harshly onto your tongue. To his dismay, you make a pleased noise and smirk.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” His insult makes your walls clench around him, and he laughs bitterly. “Oh, you like that, you like all of this shit, huh?”

Okay, yeah, sure, maybe you’re into some degradation, if you squint, from a distance. Maybe you’re just a little into being humiliated, on an off day. His comment still pisses you the hell off, though.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Bet you came in here willingly, too.” He snarks, regaining the control of the vines; he bottoms out into you, a little too satisfied at your gasps. “What? Couldn’t wait ‘til we got home to rub one out? Had to just find something to get off on.”

“I said—” You grit your teeth, grabbing control of the vines as his own thoughts waver; he’s too busy feeling all high and mighty with his weak words to keep his hold on you. He’s tugged off the table and onto the floor, while the vines allow you to stand, towering over him. “— watch your goddamn mouth, Steve.”

Slithering tendrils spiral around his ankles and wrists, pinning him down into a spread eagle position. His head whips around, breathless as he can only watch this switch in defeat.

“M’sorry, I- I’m sorry,” He whines, vines tightening around his limbs. Your name falls so pitifully from his pretty, kiss-swollen lips; a plea for some kind of mercy. “Hon- honey, please.”

There’s a power trip you and Steve continue to swap back and forth, and now that it’s back in your hands, you’re stunned by the sight of him helpless, pinned by the vines underneath you.

This is all hard to grasp, and so quickly, too.

Because you grew up with Steve. You were friends for so long, until his mean streak in high school, trading in genuine friendships for the promise of popularity— a tale as old as time. 

The man writhing underneath you, torn between pain and pleasure, isn’t the boy you chased around the playground many years ago. He’s not the insufferable jock you were forced to watch him pretend to be. He’s not the guy you graduated with, barely recognizable after his fall from grace.

Hell, you’re not even sure if this is the same Steve you reconciled with.

This version of him, the one nearly sobbing as the vines keep him pinned to the filthy floor, he’s someone you’ve only met tonight.

Steve will never be the same after this, neither will you.

You can’t help admiring his broken form, so fragile and weak. You too, are incredibly delicate at this point, but to watch this version of Steve beg you to help, beg you to give him any sort of relief from this nightmare that cursed plant and these vines are forcing you through…

Well, that’s just one power trip you can’t pass up.

Arching his back off the floor’s chipped tiles, your breath hitches, mesmerized by his presence. He’s veiled in a sheen of sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly with his shaky breaths. The plant’s glittering flecks of rose gold float around him, creating an ethereal glow; it’s a welcomed contrast to the agony written all over his beautiful face. He’s crying softly, babbling to himself about how badly he wants you, how he needs to be deep inside you or he might die— his words, not yours.

Whatever version of Steve is slowly going insane before your eyes is still your Steve, and power trip or not, you can’t stand seeing him suffer any longer.

You lower yourself, swinging your leg over his lap; hovering over his length, your folds barely touch his shaft. He whimpers some more, tears still slipping down his pretty features. And god, he’s so fucking gorgeous, especially in this state. 

Steve tries flexing his hips up, tries to push into you, but you will the vines to pin his body down even more; they sling around his waist, keeping low to avoid his wounds. Though you don’t move away, he spirals into panic.

 His mindless, desperate babbling begins again, “Don’t— please don’t leave me like this, d- don’t— I need you, I need you so bad…” When you gently glide your slick core along his cock, he gasps sharply, eyes rolling back as his jaw falls slack. A sob rumbles through his chest, body alight with an invisible, unbearable flame, one that can’t be extinguished without you.

“You need me?”

“Yes! What— I said that!”

“Say it again,” You order. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?!” He wheezes, wrestling his lower half underneath you, fighting against the vine steeling his hips in place. “I don’t— how else do you want me to say it? Tell me what you want!”

Leaning in close, your lips brush over his as the vines loosen just enough; now, it’s your turn with the creative freedom. 

Caressing his face gently, you kiss away some of his tears; his desperation shouldn’t arouse you this much. You’ve never been one to be this bold, never enjoyed power trips at the expense of a partner, but that fucked up plant has unlocked a whole new perspective for you. 

“I want you to admit it, Steve.”

His breaths slow, sobs devolving into hiccups, eyes nearly crossed as he fixates on your expression up so close.

“Ad- admit what?”

It’s so delicious to hear Steve hang on your every word, waiting to obey whatever you order of him. The way he clings to any shred of hope that you’ll help him, so long as he’s good for you. The agony of his sinful desires are burning him alive, and he will do anything if it means you’ll snuff those flames out, once and for all.

Granted, your need for him is just as leveled; you won’t make it out of this feeling alive without his help, too. For now, you’ll play pretend, healing your ego he bruised earlier.

“One: that you like me.”

As you sit up, his brows knit together while he forces out an incredulous laugh.

“I— no, I don’t— are you that fucked up right now?”

“No, but you sure seem to be if you’re still balls deep in denial.”

“I have never, ever— we’re friends! Why—“ He pauses, narrowing his stare with a scoff, “You just want me to like you.”

The vines even allow you to cross your arms, glaring down at him; it drives the sting a little deeper, to see these ghastly creatures side with you in such a tiny, yet mighty way.

“What I want, is for you to stop being an asshole.” Hands falling to his hips, you sink your fingers into his skin and grind onto him, just for a moment, enough to make him tremble and whine. “Two: I want you to admit how mean you were earlier—“

“I- I was not being mean,” He sputters another skeptical chuckle. “Maybe you were being difficult!”

Pretending to understand, you nod softly before running your core over him again, allowing the tip to catch at your entrance, pushing in, ever so slightly. A strangled moan escapes him, eyes rolling back again.

“And finally,” You reach down, running your fingers through his hair, pulling rough enough to mean business. “You need to admit one more thing. This one’s real important, Stevie.”

“Ok- okay, what?”

As a wicked smirk graces your features, he gulps audibly.

“That I’m not a crybaby— you are.” 

You don’t give Steve a chance to retort, impaling yourself onto his cock all at once. He screams, but it’s a near-silent release, voice cracking at the back of his throat as he convulses underneath you. Tensing up, his veins protrude through his tan skin, covered in sweat and grime. His cock kicks and pulses inside you, wordlessly begging to finish already.

“You can’t cum ‘til I do,” You roll your hips slowly, leaning down to match up face to face once more. Again, you grind as he babbles more pleas of mercy and pleasure. “It’s okay, I’ll make it worthwhile, I promise, babe.”

Capturing Steve’s lips in yet another slovenly, vulgar kiss, relief finally floods through his body. Not completely, not enough, but it’s reassuring you won’t leave him hanging. Again, you know you can’t finish without him, either, but he’s so lost in the high the bloom unleashed on him, that detail is meaningless.

“H- ho— oh fuck— honey, please, I- I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll— you—“

This poor man’s brain will disintegrate if you don’t let him come soon.

“Yeah? How?”

“Y- you— I like you, I really li- like you, and I’m not just saying it—“ He takes a deep breath as a vine teases along his balls; its end opens in petal formations, similar to the ones teasing your clit earlier, sucking on the sensitive skin. “I’m sorry— fuck, fuck m’so sorry—“

Cutting him off with a kiss, he groans into you; guard let down for a moment, the vine around his waist loosens, and he bucks up into you, unable to control himself.

“Apologies later,” You remind him, tapping his cheek, and without a spoken order, his mouth falls wide open. You spit onto his tongue, and he bucks up into you again; fingers digging into his chest, your nails claw at his skin, careful to avoid the wounds from earlier.

Every so often, one of you brushes against the other’s injuries, earning a hiss or short howl in pain, but coddling those aches and stings isn’t priority. Caring for one another— even under the layers of sarcasm, unresolved anger and abandonment issues— that’s all that matters right now.

“So pretty like this, Stevie,” You lean back to hit a sweet spot, one you both go dumb over. He’s still panting heavily, sobs slipping from his kiss swollen lips every so often. “You’re such a good boy when you’re helpless.”

He rambles between apologies and expressions of gratitude, sweat beading down his face, teaming up with his tears. His lower half jerks wildly underneath you, but his cock isn’t throbbing like it’s about to release. You glance back, finding the vine once on his sac, now slithering down to his ass.

You’re not the one willing the vines to do this.

The petals open back up on its end, splaying out along his puckered-pink hole; it gently sucks at the taut entrance, and Steve trembles beneath you. Your jaw drops, turning back to see his face twisted up in pleasure that’s unimaginable to most.

“Didn’t know you were this filthy…” You smirk down at him, admiring the way his lids continue to flutter rapidly, eyes rolling back enough where you only see the whites. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

Amidst the lust-induced blathering, he admits so easily, “Wish it was you instead… oh, god, wish it was your pretty fuckin’ mouth instead.”

You don’t just inch closer to your climax, you leap towards it. His confession pulls at something deep in your stomach, makes your clit throb with the thought.

“Yeah? You’d want that when we get home?”

A guttural groan rips through his throat, deep from his chest.

“So bad, so s- so bad, please, I—“ He gasps sharply, hips wriggling down onto the vine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— wish it was your tongue in me right now.”

“It’s all yours when we make it out, I promise.” You grind down on him, hips rutting faster as he hits your sweet spot sloppily. “I’m all yours, I swear, Steve.”

“M’all yours too, honey, all f- fuckin’ y—“ His mouth falls open, breath hitching in his throat before sputtering, “I- I’m gonna— m’sorry I can’t— I need to cu—“

You slide off his dick, and he cries out, devastated that his high was ripped away.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!”

“I said you couldn’t finish ‘til I did.” You lower yourself, just above the tip, taunting him.

Steve’s tongue prods his cheek for a moment, brows raised, trying to steady his breathing, but he just slams up into you instead. Rage is written all over his face, with a hint of guilt underneath, but he takes you back, anyway.

These vines aren’t siding with either of you, they just like toying with you both. They’ll give just enough freedom to whoever takes charge, but won’t release completely. You wonder if they’d keep you here forever, if they could.

He uses the vines to flip on top, throwing you into a mating press while the tendrils tighten you in place. He wastes no time shoving himself in to the hilt; the stretch is wicked and intoxicating, dragging you back into subspace.

“Who had to come find you?”

“You…” 

He rests so much of his weight onto you, pinning you down harder than the vines; you hiccup a sob, head thrown back on the floor and eyes screwing shut. You’re an insatiable wreck, wishing he could suffocate you, go even deeper, devour you whole.

Steve grabs your face roughly, large hand squishing into your cheeks as his palm rests under your chin, forcing you to look at him. When you refuse to open your eyes, his hand disappears, only to slap your face; light enough to not be violent, just enough to give you that delicious sting across your skin.

He’s relentlessly drilling into you, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Who had to save your ass?”

Sweat drips down his face onto your own.

“You!”

He’s grunting in time with his thrusts, spit dribbling from his lips, also landing on your face. Tongue out as you pant, a few droplets hit your tastebuds, causing you to clench and whimper. Right now, you’re sure you could cum just from being soaked in any of his fluids.

And that’s fucking disgusting.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You barely can rasp out, “Y- yours…”

“What was that?”

“Yours! It’s yours!”

Satisfied with your pathetic answer, Steve’s reaches for your clit, bring you both to ecstasy—

The vines quit listening to either of you; they drag you both upward into the air. They wind and weave around your bodies, forcing you together, like earlier, but even closer (as if that was even possible). Your legs are pulled around his waist; they impale you on his cock again, forcing your lower half to roll and grind onto him. Steve’s dragged back into his subby state from earlier, and you’re already lost in your own.

A thinner vine than most wraps around both of your heads together, shoving your faces, your lips, against one another. You’re bound together so tightly, you couldn’t turn away if you wanted. When a cry slips out of Steve, your tongue slips past his lips, massaging his own. He continues to keen into you, while the two of you drool all over yourselves.

It’s sticky. It’s hot. It’s repulsive.

You love it.

Neither of you can warn the other you’re about to finish, only your bodies do the talking; climaxes spoken through violent jerking and jolting, skin slapping on skin, limbs shaking and moans vibrating into one another.

You’re floating. At least, you feel like you are. And okay, yeah, sure, technically you are while the vines hold you up.

 Everything is blinding, bright white in a flash, every sensation burning you up under your skin turns into a relief you’ve never felt before. It’s like dunking your head in cold water during a heatwave, or when you finally lay down in your bed after a long, long day. Something like that, tenfold.

All of the intense, searing pain leaves your body, flooding through with bliss. So. Much. Bliss.

There’s a ringing in your ears, but it’s not harsh, doesn’t ache; it fades in time with the blinding white brightness surrounding you.

As it all falls back into place, as you come back down from the most insane orgasm of your life, you can hear Steve’s shallow breaths, loud moans quieting down. Settling back into reality, his heartbeat calms with yours; you can feel one another’s with ease, bodies still shoved together.

The vines finally retreat, releasing you both carelessly, sending you tumbling to the floor. Steve lands on top of you, catching himself in time as his hands hold him up. There’s a chill that rests on your skin; the unbearable burning has vanished, and the absence of the vile vines and their grip plunge you both into relieving shivers.

It’s only heavy, heaving breaths and stunned expressions exchanged with one another. His arms shake, absolutely worn down from whatever…. Whatever the fuck that was. Managing to lift your arms, you wind them around his shoulders; you ease him into your embrace, allowing him to rest on top of you. At first, he sighs, but it turns into shudders as he processes everything.

Both of you begin to babble apologies at the same time. 

You’re whimpering an, “I’m sorry, Steve, I’m so, so—“ while he whispers shakily, “It’s my fault, m’so sorry, honey.”

He shakes his head, sweat and grime rubbing off on your shoulder— equally gross, you’re certain.

“No, I drove you away—“

“You didn’t force me to stomp off and get lost like a fucking moron.”

“I mean years ago, not just tonight.” His grasp gingerly circles your waist, mindful of your own battered body, holding you close. “I fucked up, I pushed you away… and this friendship was never a mistake. Fixing it was never, ever a mistake. I wish I could take back every awful thing I’ve said and done.”

“I wasn’t making it any easier tonight. Seriously,” You gently push his face off of you, holding his in your hands. 

You realize how close the two of you are, it makes you nervous, despite having the most X-rated, nonsensical sex of your life. Now that the bloom’s effects have worn off, you don’t feel as confident, or desperate, to make any bold moves.

You also can’t help but wonder if he ever actually wanted you the way you always wanted him.

“I should’ve stayed. You were just trying to get us home safely.” Your eyes scrunch shut as you take a breath, letting the last of your guard down. “I’ve been so afraid to lose you again, to some stupid shit, and then all of this… this Upside Down bullshit… it terrifies me. Steve, I was so scared I lost you for good at the lake.

“You’re not a problem, either. I wish I never said that, ‘cause it’s far from the truth—“

He cups under your jaw, thumb gently caressing along your cheek, touch taking your breath away. Like the two of you weren’t just all over one another in the most sinful ways.

“Think we both said some awful shit to each other, shit that neither of us meant. And I think we both are sorry, yeah?”

You nod as your eyes open, bottom lip trembling a little.

“I’m not going anywhere, not without you.” Steve searches your gaze for any other hidden truths, his own stare glassy. “But you can’t keep hiding anymore, either.” He hesitates before asking, “What happened?”

There’s no reason to keep your pain bottled up anymore, not when you’ve bared all to one another tonight.

You can’t look him in the eye when you answer; “No one leaves if you don’t let them in. Can’t be abandoned when you keep your distance.”

Steve’s heart aches; he has his own abandonment issues, and yours are best to be unpacked another time, when all of this is said and done. For now, he does what he’s best at: wearing his heart on his sleeve, while holding you close; he hopes in time you can trust him again.

“I think we need each other… now more than ever.” He kisses your forehead; what a contrast to the way he kissed you so greedily earlier.

Squeezing tightly back, you’re mindful of his wounds, too. “We do.”

Over his shoulder, you glance over at the plant, now wilted, rotting rapidly before your eyes.

“Stupid fuckin’ plant.”  You flip it off, as if that does anything. 

Steve chuckles for a moment before asking, “Are you okay? That’s— like I know what we just went through was fucked up—“

All you can do is laugh with him, because really, what the fuck just happened? “So fucked up.”

“But you’re not hurt at all, are you? I- I mean more than before— I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Oh… uh, no. M’kinda sore, but nothing I can’t handle.” You shyly answer. “Are you okay?”

“Kinda sore,” He repeats you, smirking, “Nothing I can’t handle.” His stare falls to your lips, lingers there. “We should probably find our way back… but I can— uh.” He forces his gaze back on yours, blushing deeply. “I can give some, um, real aftercare, y’know, when we get back home… if you want… maybe even talk this thing out… feelings, and stuff.”

You’re taken aback by the unexpected, vague confession, but also so smitten by how flustered he’s getting.

“Yeah, I’d like that, Steve.” You lean in to kiss his cheek softly. “I can take care of you, too.”

He begins to grin, “Okay—“

Distant shouting and footsteps startle the both of you, freezing in place. Steve shields you with his naked form, as if that’d do anything from whoever— or whatever— is in the building.

“Guys, you in here—“ Eddie runs in, only to shriek at the sight of you and Steve on the floor, completely nude. “Jesus H. Christ—“ He grabs his vest from the floor, the one Steve wore and somehow still intact, hurtling it at Steve with his eyes shut. “I said for your fuckin’ modesty, Harrington!” 

He stomps out, returning to throw some lab coats, drenched in soot and grime your way. “Glad you two got to have your moment, and all, but we should probably go home.” As he wanders out the door, he mutters, “Perverts.”

Both you and Steve throw the coats on, giggling to the point of tears as Eddie’s voice echoes down the hall to who you assume to be Robin and Nancy, “I was right! You two owe me $10 each!”

Steve shakes his head with a sigh, yet his smile never fades; he takes his time, carefully pulling you up with him. Hand outstretched to you, he asks, “Walk of shame time?”

You groan, but a smile cracks across your face as you lace your fingers between his.

“Yeah, walk of shame time.”

[corrodedcorpses]

Thank you for the tag babies 🖤 @hard-candy-writing @thecreelhouse

Tagging: @andvys @littledemondani @littlexdeaths @wroteclassicaly @dixonsbrat @myspacebrat @eddiemunsonspantschain @eddiemunsonfuxks @fairyxfangs @teddybearmunson @hammity-hammer @hellfire--cult @justmeinadaze @ilovecupcakesandtea @taintedcigs @ghost-proofbaby and anyone else who wants to! <3

[bloodibambiidoll]

xxbimbobunnyxx ↳⇢ bloodibambiidoll

I decided to change my username, courtesy of @babygorewhore’s nickname for me. Also shout out @cxrrodedcoffin for helping me brainstorm ideas. Ily pookies. I tried to tag all my moots but if I forgot about you I’m so sorry I’m the most forgetful person ever and I hope this makes its way to you anyways. Mwah.🖤🎀

@leelei1980 @decodedlvr @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @ghost-proofbaby @lokis-army-77 @taintandviolent @marchsfreakshow @strangerstilinski @hippiegoth97 @corrodedcorpses @corroded-hellfire @andvys @that-sarcastic-writer @novashelby @myherometalhead @jamdoughnutmagician @penguinsandpotterheads @munson-blurbs @starkeysprincess @starkeyisthelastname @gri959 @take-everything-you-can @loserboysandlithium @littlexdeaths @thecreelhouse @dreamliners @rafeyscurtainbangs @rafecameroninterlude @cameronsprincess @userchai @doomsdaybby @starkeysprincess @lesservillain @gravedigginbbydoll @eddiesxangel @oceandriveab @nemesyaaa @sturnioloshacker @munson-mjstan @unbetaedimagines @watermeezer @fae-of-prey @gh0stsp1d3r @abitchyouhate @whytheylosttheirminds @honey-flustered @floredaqueen

[inmyh0rnyvillainera]

steve harrington fics (in progress!)

I’ve been using tumblr for literal years and I have 1000+ likes filled with fics, so this is a thoroughly organised masterlist of them all, both for my enjoyment and others :)

If you are tagged in here and don’t want to be, let me know!

Updated as 30/6/24. If any issues feel free to message :)

All of the below is smut.

back to: main st universe

fics

Funny how love is by @handful0fteeth : 1 2 - dating shenanigans, oral and a bit of exhibitionism

blurbs

firefighter!steve by @taintedcig : flirty steve, oral, praising (i actually lost this link someone pls help 😭)

three pump chump!steve, but he’s just whipped by @hungharrington : smut, but sorta quick cuz stevie is gone

finger sucking with steve by @superblysubpar : smut, camping, creampie

denial with steve by the above : bit of mr.harrington kink, lots of teasing

bratty!reader pissing steve off by @thecreelhouse : bickering, teasing?

steve teasing reader by @wroteclassicaly : begging, lots of teasing

ficlets

gimme a hand by @chelseeebe - 1 2 3 : reader is a good friend and eddie is whipped

a little less conversation by hungharrington - 1 2 : for the girls with bad sex experiences, stevie fixes that

one shots

sweet cream (smut) by @eiightysixbaby : oral f receiving, use of pet names

edging with steve by @buckysgrace : edging, spitting, some degradation

is he rich like me? By @carolmunson : wealthy!steve, thick!reader, daddy kink, but he’s pathetic

thigh riding with steve by @wroteclassicaly : slight smut, thigh/knee grinding

bathroom quickie in the mall? By the above : needy steve, public smut

for a good time call! By @chestharrington : phone sex hotline operator!reader, phone sex, oral, masturbation, mutual pining

jock!steve by @littlexdeaths : mean!steve, fingering, light choking, enemies with tension

getting on steves nerves by @urhoneycombwitch : public sex, dom!steve

skinny dipping by @cherrychilli : friends to lovers, skinny dipping, semi-public, unprotected, pool sex

heavenly by @maroon-cardigan : frenemies to lovers?, reader is impertinent and now has a babysitter

—

the following are all by @stevenose (hi i’m obsessed with ur writing)

body to flame - 1 2 (coming?) : banter, fingering, steve insists he only needs 20mins to make you cum

bite back : convincing steve to not be so sweet, corruption, teasing, oral

bloom : needy!steve; make-outs; grinding; face sitting; pussy eating; unprotected sex; cumming inside

titty loving!steve : reader with a vagina and breasts! no pronouns or gendered language used to refer to reader!

don’t delete the kisses : camboy!steve, multipart fic, eventual smut, mutual pining

camboy!steve : online, while you’re out of frame with your throat filled

perv!steve and perv!reader with scent kink! : f masturbation, public smut, mentions of oral

cheerleader!reader and mean!steve : oral, college au, bit of toxic dynamic?

mean!steve and needy!reader : thigh fucking, teasing, denial

shiver : nipple play, grinding, wearing his sweatshirt

sharp : mean!steve, degradation, spanking, dumbification

Who needs a vibrator anyways? : mean!steve, overstimulation, controlled orgasms, tied up reader

not the name you say : friends to?, high!steve + reader, mutual masturbation, both r and steve are pervs

under you : primal play, very consensual, sex outdoors, healthy sex exploration!

readers nipples are hypersensitive : steves obsessed with it, overstimulation

phone sex ! : needy!steve, he’s stressed after work and calls you

wicked games : powers!steve, pain/pleasure play, overstimulation, dumbification, soft dom steve, condescension, praise

rocks off : stressed!steve, handjob!steve, perv!reader

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

That reaction image has me rolling! 😂

But seriously Syl! Thank you so, so much!

We'll get more glimpses of their backstory as it progresses! The next part has a major bit in it. Eeeek! 🤭

Everyone hates Nik, and rightly so! He is an absolute piece of shit and unfortunately, abuse like that hits too many close to home.

I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far! 😁 Your comments always make my day!

Chapter 3 - To Have and To Hold

A Mafia!Steve Harrington (featuring Mafia!Eddie Munson)

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Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Weddings should be joyous occasions but the union of two families only brings about distant memories and yearning for a life that could have been. Stolen glances and longing stares across the room, and finally finding yourself face to face with the one person who can change the future.

18+ Only! Minors DNI! (Future smut and mature themes!)

CW: Minimal use of Y/N. Reader is referred to as "Dove." Pet names. Slow burn. Exes to lovers. Mutual pining. Angst. Lots of tension. Spousal abuse - reader is assaulted and choked.

WC: 5.9K

Days at the gallery quickly turned into long nights. Sometimes not going home until the wee hours of the morning. After the last few interactions with Nik you decided it was best to avoid him altogether.

He'd never set foot in here, for which you were grateful. It was your own oasis from a life that was suddenly so stifling, drowning you without a life preserver in sight.

It was easy enough, the two of you had been sleeping in separate bedrooms for a couple of years now.

You would rather take an acid bath than let him touch you. Sex became completely non-existent when he'd started coming home with lipstick stained collars and trying to push himself onto you knowing he'd just fucked God knows who else, any illusion of a loving, dedicated husband completely dissolved.

You hadn't seen or heard from Steve since the day he'd bought that painting. You found yourself wondering where he might have hung it. It was one of your favorites and knowing it went to a good home warmed your heart.

Abigail knocked you from your current train of thought when she walked over to you with a massive bouquet of white roses.

“Mrs. Petrov, these were just delivered for you, though the card says Ms. Alexander. An old client perhaps?” You shifted the flowers from her arms as she spoke, their delicate scent faintly surrounding you.

“Thank you.” You called out, already heading to your office.

You gently laid them down on the desk, plucking the card from between the soft petals.

You couldn't help the smile that crept across your face as you opened it to read the contents, already suspecting who they were from. No one else in this town would dare use your surname anymore.

Passed the flower shop and thought of you. Hope they brighten your day.

S.H.

You immediately looked for an empty vase in the storage closet to display them on your desk, hiding the card away in the bottom drawer.

It wasn't unusual for clients to send you flowers from time to time, so it didn't seem out of the ordinary.

Much to your delight, it didn't stop there. A fresh bouquet was delivered every few days from that point forward. Not just roses, something unique each time all accompanied with a personalized note signed S.H.

His small way of showing you he was still here while reluctantly maintaining his distance.

For two weeks the flowers and notes never ceased but you still hadn't seen Steve.

There was a wedding slated for the weekend between two prominent families that you had to attend.

Finding yourself in need of a new dress, you were browsing the brightly lit showroom, admiring a very beautiful lilac colored floor length gown in the corner when he spoke.

“That's not your color. Much too pale. What about that one?” You rolled your eyes as he pointed to a deep red, lacey, eye-catching number across the store.

“It's for a wedding, Steven. The attention shouldn't be on me.” You quipped. “And that shows far too much skin.” Turning away, as you began to rummage through a few dresses on the rack.

“If you say so, but you're the only one I'll be looking at.” You stopped, hands stilling on the silk in front of you as you processed his words.

“You're going Saturday?” Managing to squeak out, despite the sudden lump in your throat.

It shouldn't really come as a surprise. All of the big named families had been invited. Maybe you were expecting Steve to be more like Richard in that regard. Send his well wishes but decline the invitation.

“Of course, Dove. Can't miss the wedding of the century. A Gambino marrying a Stratori? It's unheard-of.” He made a mock gasping sound that made you snort a small laugh.

“You should have seen the looks at my…” trailing off when you realized what you were about to say. It wasn't so long ago an Alexander marrying a Petrov was big news.

“Anyway, doesn't matter. I won't be going if I don't find something to wear.” Quickly changing the subject back to the matter at hand.

“Trust me, you'll look good in anything. Wear a potato sack and you’ll still be the most beautiful woman there.” His doting words and simple praises never let up when he was around you.

Your soft blushing and sweet smiles only encouraged him further, reminding him of the younger versions of you both. These moments he would hang onto for forever if need be.

You stared at him a moment, the way the sun filtering through the window cast a glow around him, appearing almost ethereal. His skin tanned by an Italian sun, making his freckles and moles only more prominent. Those same ones you would trace across his back, finding the constellations hidden within.

Your lips twitched at the thought of kissing those same marks, as a deeper blush crept your cheeks that had you quickly looking back to the dresses laid out before you, clearing your throat.

“Steve, I…” Mouth snapping closed when you weren't sure what you were attempting to say.

“What is it, tesoro?” Looking back at you expectantly, eyes soft, giving you his full attention.

“Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely, all of them, but you don't have to do that.” Your gaze drops momentarily as he regards you for a moment.

“Let me ask you something. Do they make you smile?”

“Well, of course.” A grin lifting the edges of your mouth you couldn't contain.

“Then yes, Dove. I have to send them. At least I know for one fleeting moment of the day I've had the pleasure of making you smile.”

You both stilled for a moment, silently gazing at one another.

“Excuse me? Can I help either of you?” One of the associates had walked over, interrupting the small moment.

You smiled at her, asking for a couple of dresses to try on in your size.

“Right away, Mrs. Petrov. And for you sir?” Looking back toward Steve, eyeing him up and down as she spoke. A small scowl of contempt passed over her momentarily, oblivious to who she was speaking to.

“Nothing for me today, thank you. I'll see myself out, momentarily.”

She nodded and walked toward the back to gather the dresses you had asked for.

“I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then.” Finally looking back to him, reluctantly getting ready to take your leave and follow her into the dressing room.

“Of course, Dove.” He says, leaning in close. “I still think the red would be a better choice.” Voice dropping an octave lower, winking as a shameless grin spread across his face.

His persistence had you fondly rolling your eyes, but a grin matching his own spread across your features.

“I think I'll find something a little less salacious but thank you for the suggestion.” Laughing as you walked away, a sound that was like music to his ears as he took his leave.

You glanced back once more, as you reached the back, but he was already gone.

The associate had gotten a large, very well-lit room ready for you. The dresses you had asked for were already on display, hung up across the back wall as you entered.

“This should be all of them. Will there be anything else Mrs. Petrov? Shall I stay and help you try any of them on?” She asked kindly.

“That won’t be necessary but thank you.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone with some of the fanciest garments that money could buy yet you stood there feeling hollow, sighing deeply to yourself.

You slid the first dress from its silk hanger. A lilac gown with beautifully beaded detail on the bodice. Once you had managed to get it on, you stood in front of the mirror with a grimace. Steve was right, it was much too pale. You hated that he was right. A man who barely knows you anymore and still knows too much.

It was much the same as you tried on each one of the expensive gowns. None of them seemed quite right. Either the color was off, or it didn’t fit quite right leaving you empty handed on the way out.

Later that afternoon, the sun was setting low, as you worked through a few things before you would reluctantly head home for the evening.

Abigail enthusiastically walked toward you with a large black box, wrapped with a red, silk ribbon and a large matching bow on top.

“Mrs. Petrov, this was just delivered for you. It's from Figueroa.”

The dress shop you had visited earlier in the day. Confusion spread across your face, as you took it from her opting to open it in your office and dismissing her for the day.

You gently lifted the edges, immediately met with matching red tissue paper and a small, white card that simply read: This was ALWAYS your color. See you tomorrow.

You pushed aside the wrapping to reveal a deep, burgundy colored gown held within. The material was a beautiful velvet, soft to the touch, letting your fingers melt into the fabric as you pulled it from the box. It was stunning. A mermaid cut, with long sleeves dropped for the sweetheart neckline that would show some cleavage. It was sexy yet stayed somewhat moderate.

You didn't remember seeing this one in the store because it would have surely caught your eye.

Steve always had good taste. It came as no surprise he chose something that you would have picked out for yourself.

You hid the card in the desk, amongst the ones that have accompanied the flowers, hiding away any evidence of where the dress had come from. Your insides twisted at the thought of hiding him away forever. It was never meant to be this way with Steve.

You gripped the edges of the box on the ride home with a permanent smile etched across your face at the thought of seeing him tomorrow, if only for a brief moment, you would be the one to make him smile.

You sat in silence, staring out the window, ignoring the grunts and protests from Nik.

“I shouldn't even be going to this stupid wedding. I've got shit to do at the club tonight.” Huffing out like a petulant child, pushing his back further into the seat.

You simply rolled your eyes and tried to picture yourself literally anywhere else. The thought of spending the entire evening by his side turned your stomach. All dolled up to be HIS arm candy, but it would be your secret who you were dressed FOR.

“Hey, are you going to talk to me? You've got to play the part sometime tonight.” He grabbed for your hand, but you swiftly moved away from his touch at the faintest brush.

“I'll play along in public, but do not fucking touch me when we are alone. I don't know where your filthy hands have been. Or who they've been in, for that matter.” You spat, already over his behavior.

He let out a deep, hearty laugh, throwing his head back.

“Someone is feisty. I like it.” Grabbing your knee, laughing once again when you pushed him away. “Oh, come on baby. Give us a kiss.”

“Fuck off, Nik.” You hissed.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. The feeling is mutual.” He straightened back up in his seat, promptly lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke your way.

“Do you mind? I don't want to smell like smoke before we get there.” Waving it away from you and your face, letting out a small cough.

“Aw, don't want your new dress to smell like smoke?” He chuckled, pinching the fabric at your side. “Poor baby.”

Your hand tightened around the clutch you held in your lap, as you closed your eyes holding back your anger as best you could, seething just below the surface. You just had to get through a couple of hours, saying pleasantries and having lighthearted conversation while rubbing a few elbows with certain people.

Calming your nerves as best you could, taking a few deep breaths and slowly opening your eyes once more.

Nik was distracted on his phone, leaving you for a few moments of peace before you pulled up to the venue.

The driver came around to open his door first, but Nik made no attempt to come around to your side to let you out, making the driver go around to open your door as well. A real gentleman.

“Let's get this over with. I've got shit to do.” Finally coming to stand beside you, extending his elbow for you to take.

“You've already said that.” You hissed, reluctantly taking his arm as you headed toward the entrance. “Just fucking behave Nik, you can't act like an ass in front people tonight.”

As much as you hated your husband, he still had a portion of business to uphold with many of the attendees tonight. Your father's reputation was at stake just being associated with the prick.

“I'll do as I damn well please.” He hissed back through gritted teeth, glaring down at you as you entered the large room. Ignoring him, you will yourself to throw on the best fake smile that you could muster.

The wedding was being held downtown, at one of the oldest buildings. Its gothic architecture and high ceilings were a beautiful backdrop for a wedding.

Nik made a beeline for some of his associates, immediately grabbing some champagne from one of the waitresses as he pulled you along. It didn’t go unnoticed the way he so blatantly eyed her up and down as he passed.

You busied yourself looking around at the decor, sipping your own champagne trying to ignore the conversation he was having around you. Some things you couldn’t understand at all as he spoke in his native tongue. When you had first gotten married you took an interest in learning Russian but that quickly subsided as your marriage started falling apart.

The room quieted down to a dull murmur when he entered. His very presence commanded the attention of everyone present. Heads began to turn his way, all clambering to catch a glimpse of the so-called prodigal son of Richard Harrington as he made his entrance, his first public outing since the funeral.

He ignored the hushed whispers around him, walking in with Eddie falling right in behind him, the crowd parting as he made his way to pay respect to the happy couple.

He looked as handsome as ever sporting a black suit, with his hair slicked back and quaffed perfectly but his burgundy shirt and tie beneath his buttoned suit jacket is what really caught your eye. It was the exact color of your dress. A detail that brought a small smile to your face.

“Who the hell does he think he is?” Nik scoffed, as some of the other men chuckled, pulling your attention back to the small group.

He downed the rest of his champagne, eyes never leaving Steve, following his movements across the crowded space.

“I need something a little more stiff, come on.” He grabbed your arm, pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar, dragging you along beside him. The abruptness caught you off guard. For a moment, you wabbled on your heels.

“Nik, you need to take it easy tonight.” You whispered through gritted teeth.

“And you,” he hissed. “Should shut the fuck up.” He gripped your arm a little tighter as you reached the bar tucked away in the corner before ordering a bourbon, downing it in one gulp, slamming the glass back down. He would never outwardly push it out in the open like this, showing his true colors but it was surprising, nonetheless.

He finally relinquished his grip to grab his next one, turning to meet his associates as they began to huddle around him, picking up their conversations from before leaving him to ignore you once more.

Steve spotted you as soon as he walked through the door, smirking to himself. The dress he had picked out fit you spectacularly, showing off your curves while staying somewhat modest. You were breathtaking.

Reluctantly, his attention drew back to the matter at hand as he made his way through the crowd to greet the wedding party and their family, wishing them the best.

Steve quickly made his rounds, shaking hands and chatting with some familiar faces or some new introducing themselves, but he couldn't keep his eyes off of you.

He and Eddie grabbed some flutes of champagne, chatting amongst themselves in the corner where he temporarily lost you in the crowd, but quickly caught up with you again heading toward the bar with Nik.

His jaw ticked seeing the way he gripped you, pulling you alongside him.

Eddie noticed how he stiffened, following his line of vision over to you just in time for them both to witness his hold on you grow a little more harsh.

Steve took a step before Eddie moved abruptly in front of him, halting him with a palm to his chest.

“Steve. Not here.” Eddie warned, as he looked past him once more. You had already moved away from Nik, standing to the side of the bar.

Eddie was right. This was not the time or place to lose his head, but it didn't mean they couldn't have a little chat.

You heard him before you saw him, heart promptly leaping into your throat when you realized he was headed in your direction, but he only caught your gaze nodding slightly and greeted Nik instead.

Realizing you could do nothing but stand there and watch as the scene unfolds, you downed the rest of your champagne bracing for the worst.

“Nik, gentlemen. How are we all doing this evening?” Asking with that charming Harrington tone, as Eddie hung slightly behind them, hands in his pockets, looking relaxed but you could tell he was anything but.

Nik’s amusement seemed to fade, his smile dropping, moving the glass to his lips for another sip. He stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to the other man.

“Harrington.” Nodding back, as the others stated their own greetings.

“Didn't expect you to show up here. Your father never came to shit like this.” He sneered.

“Well, little Niki, like I told you the other day, we aren't our fathers. And I, for one, am striving to be a better man than he was. We should all strive to be better men, right?” Leveling his gaze right at your husband as he spoke.

A flash of anger split Nik's face before regaining his composure, already a little too much to drink to effectively conceal his emotions. The nickname he gained in his youth that he had come to detest, trying to live up to the elder Nikolai, his father, always falling in his shadow. Something that he and Steve had in common however they chose very different avenues to deal with it.

“Right.” Scoffing, as he set his glass back to the bar, taking a small step toward Steve, once again squaring his shoulders. “Any suggestions on how I should go about that, since you're doling out the advice today? I'm all ears.”

“I don't know, Nik. Maybe the old ways of handling business are outdated? Kind of like, oh I don't know?” Pausing, pretending to think for a moment. “Raising a hand to your spouse to keep them in line? That shit just doesn't work and makes you look bad.”

Your cheeks suddenly heated at the bluntness of his insinuation, hoping no one looked over at you.

“And what the fuck would you know about business? Last time I checked, you were still riding daddy's coattails.” Leaning further into Steve’s space as he spoke trying to make himself more intimidating, but he stood his ground, not so easily dissuaded.

Eddie made to move forward, but Steve quickly held a hand out, halting him.

Nik's raised voice began garnering a little attention their way as you scanned the other guests standing close by.

“I'm just saying.” Taking a step toward Nik this time, both men practically nose to nose. “Sometimes it's better to get with the program, or you could lose everything.”

“Are you threatening me?” Nik spat.

Steve let out a small chuckle, shaking his head as he stepped back, reminding himself once more that he couldn’t lose it here.

“Trust me, you would know if it's a threat. Just some friendly advice.” He clapped him on the arm as if they were old chums, sharing a good laugh which only infuriated Nik further.

“You can take your friendly advice and shove it u…” One of Nik's associates got in between the two and tried to calm him down. Steve was trying to goad him to gauge his reaction and he had taken the bait flawlessly.

“Well, gentlemen if you'll excuse me, we are here for a wedding after all.” He nodded, as he and Eddie headed back across the room, leaving you a little speechless in the process.

“I don't know who the fuck he thinks he is.” Nik began to rant, so you decided to leave him and make your way to your chair for the ceremony. You also hoped he would cool off before coming to find you as other guests began to fill the empty seats around you.

You caught Steve out of the corner of your eye as he passed, taking a seat across the aisle, one row up on the end.

The ceremony was beautiful with a blushing young bride and a handsome groom. They seemed genuinely happy and for their sakes you hoped it were true.

You couldn't help but feel sadness now thinking back to your own wedding. The joy and hopefulness that day brought only to be a complete fabrication.

As the couple said their vows, your eyes found his across the aisle, as if he had already been looking toward you. There seemed to be a sadness etched within him as well, his eyes lacking their usual sparkle.

Images flashed and danced through your mind of a life that could have been. A fall wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and family. Honeymooning on the Italian coast and coming back to a home full of love and promise without any doubts.

Steve would have given you the world without any hesitation. He loved fiercely, willing to do whatever it took to make you happy. He made it so damn easy to see what a bright future lay ahead for both of you.

You hadn't noticed a tear escaping until it rolled down your cheek, and onto your hand situated in your lap, suddenly bringing you crashing back to reality.

He was still looking at you when you diverted your gaze away, because it was all too much. Your chest ached as the couple kissed, concluding their vows and made their way down the aisle, now united in holy matrimony with smiles gracing their happy faces. It was suddenly too suffocating.

“I have to go to the restroom.” Excusing yourself from Nik’s side, not waiting for his response, quickly dashing out the side door into the empty hallway.

You breathed a small sigh of relief, briefly pausing, your hand leaning against the wall to steady yourself and regain some composure.

You willed yourself to conceal your emotions as you began to make your way down the corridor but as you rounded the corner someone grabbed your forearm. Your back was suddenly met with a warm chest, taking you by surprise. Their large hand clasping over your mouth stifling any noise from escaping you, as they step further back with you in tow, closing the door.

Before you had time to react, his soothing voice washed over you.

“It's okay, Dove. It's just me.” His lips so close, ghosting the shell of your ear as he spoke. He waited a moment for it to register before he removed his hand from your face, finding the light switch.

“Steve! What the hell?” Saying as you swung around to face him, your pulse racing from the small scare. He had pulled you into a small, dimly lit utility closet, away from prying eyes and just big enough for the two of you.

“I'm sorry, honey it's the only place I could get you alone.” He shrugged, shifting toward you, with a small pout.

“I shouldn't be in here.” You reached for the handle, but he was quick to place his hand overtop yours, effectively halting your movement.

“I couldn't let you leave without telling you how beautiful you look.” He whispered, closing the small gap between you, his hand coming to rest on your hip, heat radiating from his palm. His touch was searing, even through the fabric of your gown.

“I saw this on the way out of the shop and had them match the shirt and tie perfectly.” He inches just a little more into your space, releasing the hold on your hand so he could plant it firmly to your lower back pushing you further into him.

Your hands find the expanse of his chest, holding yourself steady, feeling as though your knees could give out at any moment. He had unbuttoned his suit jacket, your palms finding the warmth beneath, flat against his silk shirt.

He didn't need to utter it aloud. The dress. The tie. It was his way of subtly staking claim to you. You were and always had been his.

“Steve, what are you doing? You can't exactly woo a married woman. Especially one married to someone as powerful as Nik. He…” You stopped, when you saw the look in his eyes, utterly and completely gone for you.

“I don't have to woo what's already mine.” His voice low and husky, dripping with desire.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Mr. Harrington.” You breathed out, trying to maintain your cool but even you could hear the waiver in your voice.

No matter the distance or time, you couldn't forget this man no matter how hard you tried. He would simply not let you. It felt like torture to be this close to him now, yet so far away.

Your head kept telling you that you needed to run, but you couldn't find it in yourself to move. You were transfixed, gazing up into his golden, mossy framed orbs.

You let your eyes trail his features. A small scar above his left eyebrow that had been there for years, a memento of his childhood. The way his lips had the perfect cupid's bow and remembering just the way he tastes.

He leans down looking for any sign of trepidation, finding none; your face mirroring his own, full of unspoken adoration.

“You're not denying it, tesoro. Just tell me you want this, as much as I do.” His nose traces down the slope of yours as he speaks. Your heart hammering so hard in your chest, you were sure he could hear it beating.

“Amore mio.” You whisper, top lip grazing his, releasing a shuddering breath before the realization of what you'd just said fully hit.

You'd never spoken those simple words to anyone else, only ever reserved for Steve. He had taught you some phrases in Italian, mostly sweet talk. You were always his tesoro mio and he, your amore mio.

You lean back, clasping a hand over your mouth as he was fully leaning in, eyes closed, lips chasing yours.

“Oh my God!” You gasp out, pressing yourself backward, stumbling a bit in your heels but he catches your elbow as you regain your balance.

“Dove?” He asks, voice low, coming out a little timidly.

“I… We can't do this Steve!” He can see your internal conflict and what he can only infer as fear written all over your face. It dawns on him then. The way you had winced when he grabbed your arm at the gallery. The way Nik had pulled you through the room earlier.

“Dove, did he hurt you?” His hand on your elbow begins to draw you back in, laying his other to your jaw, coaxing your face toward him but you still refuse to look up, eyes cast downward.

“No, Steve. You just… you don't know what he's capable of.” Your eyes grow glossy, tears threatening to spill over your lashes and ruining your makeup.

“Hey, honey, I'm not worried about him.” He does his best to soothe you, speaking softly. “If anyone should be worried, it's him. You hear me? Look at me.” Gently, his thumb grazes your bottom lip.

“Dove, look at me.” Pleading one last time, his voice was raw and pained.

“Steve, I can't…” Your eyes finally meet his, tears spilling out and down your cheeks. He does his best to wipe them away when his hands come to cup your cheeks. “I…I’m sor…”

“Shhh… no need for that, tesoro mio.” He doesn't want to let you go, but he's afraid of pushing you further away.

He leans in, warm lips press into your forehead as your eyes close. A tender embrace, your hand coming to grip his wrist holding him in place for a moment longer before quietly slipping from his hold.

You wipe your tears, pausing with your hand on the handle, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“It's better if you stay away from me.” Whispering out without waiting for a reply, quickly opening the door and checking the hall before stepping out. Your footsteps are the only sound echoing down the corridor as you walk toward the restroom to clean yourself up.

The interaction only lasted a few minutes, but the feeling of his hands and lips still lingered on your skin.

“It's better if you stay away from me.”

He blows out a deep breath but doesn't say anything.

Better for who? He bitterly thinks. Certainly not better for him. You're all he's thought about since returning. It's driving him insane.

He can't bring himself to think about you with Nik. The asshole getting to have you all to himself. He can touch, kiss or bed you anytime he pleases. The thought makes him sick, but the brief interaction solidifies what he already knew to be true.

When he heard “amore mio” glide past your lips so easily, he knew he still had you. His heart ached to hear you say that just once more, something he hadn't heard uttered in so long, nearly taking his breath away. You're still his.

He waits a few more moments, letting you get ahead of him before he makes sure the coast is clear and exits the closet.

Heading in the opposite direction and rounding the corner, he spots Eddie leaning against the wall smirking at him.

“Everything okay, boss?” His grin drops, shoving himself off the wall seeing the annoyed look plastered to Steve's face. Not what he had expected.

“No, but it will be. We're leaving.” Grunting out as he continues to walk, leaving Eddie to catch up to his stride.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, wiping the makeup that had run. It took a few minutes, but you made yourself presentable.

Nik was waiting for you right outside the bathroom, crossing his arms giving you a death glare when you spotted him.

“What the hell have you been doing?” He hissed.

“I had to pee, and the wedding made me emotional, so I cleaned myself up. I can't go to the reception looking like a mess.” Responding, as you headed past him, but he grabbed your arm. The one he's so fond to take here lately when you get out of line.

“We're going home.” He spat, getting in your face for a moment before a cruel smile stretched across his face as his whole demeanor changed.

“Kitten, I know you're tired, it's been a long hard day.” Ushering you out into the reception area, pulling you through the crowd toward the exit, holding tightly to your wrist as if you would try to flee at any moment.

The car was already waiting outside, as he ushered you inside and slammed the door. You held your breath when he sat down beside you and began to loosen his tie, unbuttoning the restricting collar.

Silence for a few moments as you head back home to your prison.

“Do you think I'm fucking stupid?” He finally asks, turning his head slowly toward you.

“Wh– What?” You asked meekly, shrinking into yourself.

“I asked if you think I'm fucking stupid?” Enunciating each word a little slower and more clipped.

You furrowed your brow, trying to decipher where he was going. Had he seen you and Steve exit the closet?

“Where'd the dress come from?”

“My dress?” You tried to stay calm, looking down at the velvet fabric. He'd put those small crumbs together.

“The dress Y/N. That fucker bought it for you, didn't he? Didn't think I'd notice his goddamn matching shirt and tie? You two think you're really cute.” He clenched his fists on his lap, as his jaw ticked. He was anything but calm right now and the dam was about to burst.

“Nik… I…” He suddenly lunged at you, hand around your throat pushing you back into the seat. You gasped out in surprise, as he pressed in just a little harder, fingers flexing and cutting off your air supply. Your hand flew up to clutch at his, grasping and desperately trying to pry him away.

He leaned in close, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

“Its like you want me the fucking hurt you, leaving me no choice. Pull a stunt like that again, and not even your father will be able to protect you.”

He eases back, placing a chaste kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you. Your airway opened, leaving you gasping in a heavy breath while letting out a small, choked sob.

“I warned you.” His last words for the evening, before lighting a cigarette and thoroughly ignoring you, taking a phone call leaving you to sulk in the corner.

He dropped you off at home, no doubt heading to his club, but you were grateful to be left alone for the night hoping for some miracle that he wouldn’t come back home at all.

You drew yourself a hot bath, letting the magnitude of everything that had transpired wash over you.

The wedding brought up so many morose thoughts and feelings. Steve blatantly threatening Nik, Nik threatening you, it was all too much.

Your fingertips graze your cheek where his hand had been not long ago. If you closed your eyes, you could feel him still, imaging he was here with you. His touch had electrified you. Something you had never felt with anyone else. A feeling of being totally alive. The gray, dreary past melting and giving way to a future full of bright color.

“Steve.” You whispered out, pulling your knees into your chest, as you cried.

Lying to yourself would be useless. Steve was everything that Nik never was or would be. Years apart and he still holds your heart. You were still in love with him, just knowing he felt the same was all you needed.

You had to think of a plan, while still trying to maintain your distance until Nik was out of the picture.

This was a very dangerous game, but you couldn't bear the thought of letting him go a second time.

No, you wouldn't let that happen this time.

Taglist: @micheledawn1975 @girlwiththerubyslippers @thecreelhouse @teen--marvel @taccobelle

[bettyfrommars]

I love wip games like this, to get a lil taste of all the yummy fics that are out there. Dearest @somnambulic-thing @thecreelhouse and @rebelfell thank you for thinking of me.

What are 5 lines you've written that gave you butterflies?

I wrote so damn much last year while I was spiraling, I forget a lot of where the butterflies came from, but here are a few that stuck with me:

Nightmare Factory Blurb

"I wish I could tell you that," Eddie whispered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I wish I could keep you."

Waste Away with Me

"Hey," he tipped your chin to make you look up into his dark, hopeful eyes. "Kiss me if you're mine."

Biker Steve: Ring of Fire

“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from grease and oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.

He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so.  “I do all right.”

Say Goodnight

His warm breath tickles the shell of your ear. “I’ll be here waiting right where you left off. You’ll always have me as long as you never let me die.”

Handcuffs & Crab Rangoon

“Wait,” Eddie sank his hand around your throat, guiding you back up to full height.  “Kiss me first,” he swiped the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip.  “And then you can kill me.”

a little something extra from another wip because it makes me giggle:

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m real,” he was grinning at first, but then he looked down at his feet and it sank into a frown. “But I think my wish got lost in translation.”

“Your wish?”

“Yeah, so,” he was playing with one of his rings, avoiding eye contact. “There’s a Wishing Well where I come from, and it kinda has…powers.”

“Powers.” You repeated softly, trying to wrap your head around it.

He interlaced his fingers in front of him, and you realized he could easily sit on the tip of your finger.  

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I think a lot of people have already been tagged so please do this if you would like to and tag me? would love to read your lines. But also tagging: @dr-aculaaa @courtingchaos @kookygranger @allthingsjoeq@girlwiththerubyslippers @texasblues @briarberrythornedhart @rosewaterandivy @br0ck-eddie @destroya2005 @atinylittlepain @catherinnn