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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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After Dark

S.H. x F Reader

Summary: After a death scare, Steve is terrified to lose you, and is determined to take care of you.

CW: MDNI 18+, angst, fluff, injuries on arms, softer smut

The frigid breeze of a cold, autumn night nipped at your skin, the usually cozy sweater you were wearing not helping one bit.

Kid after kid, with bruised knees and scraped elbows gathered into a van to be taken home after another traumatic, yet all too familiar event in the Upside Down.

Eddie had graciously offered to take them home, his van having plenty of space in the back for everyone to huddle up, tired heads resting on shoulders and nodding off from exhaustion.

You stood by Steve's car, goosebumps on your skin and a split lip quivering from the unwelcoming chill of the night, and watched him as he exchanged a few words with Eddie, thanking him before he drove off.

Your arms didn't hurt anymore at least, and you didn't know if they were numb from the cold, or if you were still in shock.

You'd been caught off guard by a demodog just an hour ago– it came running after you in the dark, and lept on top of you, toppling you onto the hard dirt.

It'd slashed both of your upper arms in the process, tearing through your sweater, and there was a fleeting moment where you were going to scream, cry for help, but you opted not to. You knew that after countless times of battling Russians and bloodthirsty creatures, you were bound to eventually die at some point.

You'd accepted your fate and squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to look into its mouth before you became its latest meal, when you heard a loud smack, the weight and pressure of its hold on you suddenly gone.

You forced your eyes open to see Steve, holding his infamous baseball bat, and smacking it against the creature's head over and over again while he screamed and shouted, willing it to die, until its movements finally stilled.

He dropped his bat then with a thud, running up to you with frightened, wide eyes, a blood splattered face, and he knelt down next to you and slid his arms underneath you in one swift movement, holding you close to him as he took in sharp breaths, asking you if you were okay, asking you where it hurt, begging you to respond to him.

You hadn't responded, only staring at him with confused eyes, chest heaving, unable to find the words to tell him you were okay. One moment you'd accepted your fate, and the next, Steve was holding you close to him, a hand roaming over the sleeves of your sweater where it had been torn, heavily sighing with relief when he'd realized that your slashes in your arms were your only injuries.

A silver tear glistened in the corner of his eye and ran down his cheek as he apologized over and over again for not getting to you sooner, and choked back a sob, telling you he thought you were a goner.

Once you'd returned when the battle was over (for the time being), Steve made it abundantly clear that you were not going home, that you were staying with him so he could take care of you, not wanting you to go back to an empty house to lick your wounds alone.

You'd told him that you were okay, that it wasn't life threatening, that you could take care of yourself, but eventually accepted his request when he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his soul wavering and shaking life a leaf, and grabbed your face, pressing his forehead against yours, and kindly but sternly whispering, "No."

Steve was making his way back to you now from Eddie's van, the chilly air breezing through his long waves, and hastily took to taking off his jacket when he saw you shivering, thoughtfully draping it over your shoulders as to not hurt you any further.

He looked at you up and down, studying your body language and crossing his arms before he met your gaze.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked for the tenth time, distress still in his voice.

"Yeah," you nodded, softly smiling, "I'm okay. Just cold."

"Oh shit, yeah," he sighed, "come on, then."

He rested a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the passenger side door before opening it for you, helping you to get in and make sure you were comfortable, and carefully shut it closed, stepping over to the driver's side and sitting down in a hurry, starting his BMW and cranking the heat before driving off.

You stared out the window, burning, hooded eyes closing in relief as the heat kicked in, almost forgetting the thick tension in the air, like a drawn bow waiting to be released, before Steve broke the heavy silence.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

Your eyebrows furrowed, confused by his apology as you looked over to him.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I don't know," he huffed, "it's just that... if we never became friends, you would've never had to deal with this shit, get hurt, ya know?"

"Oh my god," you scoffed playfully, "how were you supposed to know that King Steve asking a girl out in 8th grade would lead to this?"

"I'm not King Steve anymore," he frowned.

"I know you're not, but I'm just saying, it's not your fault. Okay?"

Steve wiped his nose with his sleeve, and cleared his throat, not replying.

"I'm okay, and it's not your fault," you reassured him.

"When I saw you under that– that thing," he responded, his voice barely above a whisper, "I really thought you were... dead."

He spoke the last word as if it was something forbidden to say, and honestly, it felt like it was.

You inhaled, exhaled a short breath, and your mind played the flashbacks like a bad horror movie, making your stomach do back flips, then fill with dread as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not knowing what to do with your hands.

"Me too."

Steve glanced at you then, his brown eyes drowned in sorrow, remorse, and even grief of what could have been.

He averted his eyes back to the road, a shiver going down his spine, and reached his hand out to you, his palm facing up.

"C'mere."

You looked over to see his hand open and waiting for you, and you pursed your lips, before accepting and resting your hand on his.

That wasn't enough for him, and he quickly intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed it with tightly, holding onto you for dear life, his other gripping the wheel with white knuckles.

You both sat in a much more comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, not letting go of the other's hand as Steve kept his eyes on the dark road in front of him, some streetlights flickering, some broken entirely, and you stared out the window, eyes heavy and tired, trying not to fall asleep.

He pulled up to his driveway and let go of your hand to put it in park, turning the car off and focusing on you for a moment, his eyes just as tired as yours.

"Don't move," he instructed softly, before opening his door and getting out.

He quickly moved to the passenger side door, opening it for you and taking your hand in his, pulling you up gently and then placed his hand on your back again, leading you to the steps of his front door before unlocking it and insisting you go in first.

Steve shut the door behind him and switched the lights on before turning to you as you took off his jacket and kicked off your shoes, and he cursed and ran a nervous hand through his hair at the reminder of your bloodied, torn sleeves, slashes on the skin underneath it.

He took a slow step towards you as you gazed up at him, his eyes burning into yours, and he gently smoothed your hair out of your face, making your heart skip a beat.

"C'mon, sweetheart, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You nodded and smiled briefly, and he grabbed your hand again, motioning his head to walk up the stairs, and guided you delicately up to his room, as if you were fragile glass that could shatter any moment. You knew it wasn't necessary, but decided it was better to not say anything.

He let go of you as the two of you walked into his bedroom, soft plush carpet under your feet, and you smiled as your heart bloomed with nostalgia at Steve's all too familiar bedroom.

He was quick to advance to his dresser, pulling out the drawers and fumbling through them to find clean clothes he thought would be comfortable enough for you.

You waited patiently, admiring the details of his bedroom, before he approached you, holding up a black t-shirt, basketball shorts and a pair of his boxer briefs.

"Are these, uh, okay?" Steve asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, perfect, thank you," you smiled as he placed them in your hands.

"Okay, cool," he stammered, his face flushing a shade of pink and his hands on his hips, "are you on your, you know, period or anything? Cause if you are, I can try to find something in my mom's bathroom–"

"No," you chuckled, "I'm not, thank you though."

He nodded awkwardly, seemingly regretting asking you such a question, though you didn't mind, you thought it was quite thoughtful of him to mention.

"Here, come shower in my bathroom, and I'll take the guest bathroom."

You followed Steve into the bathroom adjacent from his room, and he looked into the shower, making sure there was enough shampoo, conditioner and soap, before turning it on for you, his hand feeling the water to make sure the temperature was to his liking for you.

"Okay, um," he paused for a moment, thinking, "oh yeah, shit, a towel–"

He opened the cabinet and handed you a neatly folded, fluffy towel and an extra toothbrush, and you were reminded how wealthy his parents were when you felt the overly soft fabric.

"Alright, I'm gonna go shower in the other bathroom now," he motioned his hand somewhere behind him, "if you need anything else, let me know, I'll be quick and I'll be in my room waiting for you."

"Okay," you replied with a small voice, and he nodded, staring at you for a moment before walking out the door.

Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your heart was heavy as you watched him walk away, like you didn't want him to leave, like he needed to stay with you and never be far away from you ever again, like not being right next to him felt scary all over again.

Suddenly, he felt like a lifeline.

"Steve," you blurted a little loudly, not meaning to.

The way you said his name made him halt, and he turned around to look at you again with wide eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Uh... thank you. For everything. I appreciate it a lot."

It was all you could manage to say.

He flashed you a small, but loving grin, and gave you a slight nod, before turning back around and closing the door.

You sighed heavily as you set his clothes on the counter, and looked into the slightly fogged mirror, your reflection showing your blood stained shirt and your dirtied face, and you grimaced at the sight.

You peeled off your clothes carefully, as to not hurt your already sliced up arms, but you realized it didn't matter when you stepped into the shower and the warm water hit your wounds, making you hiss in pain.

You watched as hints of blood mixed with water went down the drain, washing your hair with great care, not wanting to tangle it further, brushing your teeth and wincing a bit as you lathered yourself in Steve's body wash, the soap stinging your arms.

You rinsed yourself off and stepped out of the shower, dried yourself off with the towel and slipped into Steve's clothes, smiling to yourself as they smelled just like him, breathing in his scent, and took it upon yourself to use his hairbrush and comb out your knots, knowing that he wouldn't mind.

You opened the door to walk back into his bedroom, and just like he said, he was sat on his bed waiting for you with his hands clasped, his hair damp and tousled, his face cleaned up, and he smiled softly at you.

Suddenly, for some unknown reason, he'd never looked more handsome than right there, showered and sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for you, and you smiled back.

"You feel better?"

"Yeah," you responded, voice hushed, "I do."

"Good," he patted the comforter, motioning for you to sit with him, "come here. It's time to fix up those scratches."

You noticed the bottle of rubbing alcohol, cotton rounds and bandages next to him, and you groaned, begrudgingly stepping towards him and sitting down on the bed next to him, facing him cross-legged.

"I know, I know," he cooed, "it sucks, but we have to do it. Let me see."

You hesitantly rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and sighed as Steve inspected your wounds, his fingers tracing around them giving you goosebumps.

"These probably needed some stitches," he mumbled, "but all I have are butterfly bandages."

"That's fine," you assured.

"Well, alright," he said cautiously, grabbing the rubbing alcohol and dowsing the cotton pads with it, "this is gonna hurt, okay?"

"I know," you breathed, "it's okay."

He began dabbing at the slashes with the cotton, and you winced and cursed at the sting, him muttering 'shit, shit, sorry, shit, I'm sorry', in between.

"There," he leaned his face towards your arm, "I think that's all disinfected now."

Your heart fluttered when his gaze met yours, Steve only now realizing the close distance of your faces.

His big, brown eyes darted from your eyes to your mouth, lips parted as he lingered there for a moment longer, before leaning back and clearing his throat.

"Sorry, let me get these bandaids," he stuttered, his face blushing.

"Don't be sorry," you insisted softly, "I like when you're... near me, ya know?"

He tried to hold back a shy smile at that, and grabbed the box of bandages.

"Me too."

Your chest grew warm at his words, feeling bashful, and you watched as he gingerly began placing the bandages on your skin, doing his best to close the wounds tight.

"You know," he said quietly, tapping your other arm to continue, "I just wanna tell you... I'm really sorry for how I acted towards you in middle school."

"Steve," you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "it's okay, it was years ago–"

"Yeah," he interrupted, "but I was a real douche then. So, I'm sorry."

"Well... you're not a douche anymore, so I forgive you, if forgiveness is what you're looking for."

His lips curled into a smile of gratitude, and he turned to grab a roll of compression bandages, wrapping both of your arms with them to ensure the ones underneath stayed put.

"There," he exhaled, "all done. I know it's probably not great, but I'm not a doctor, unfortunately."

"Considering that most doctors don't even take women seriously," you smirked, "I think it's perfect."

Steve chuckled, and ran a hand through his hair, sucking in his bottom lip.

The room went quiet as he sat a minute longer, timidly taking your hand in his and rubbing soothing circles on it, and there was a pull in the air, a pull that felt like a rubber band waiting to snap.

You gazed at him with half lidded, brand new eyes, studying his face, and you decided Steve was perfect– his lips, his eyelashes, his freckles, his hair– and his touch set your skin aflame.

There was some kind of mutual understanding buzzing between the two of you, that words didn't need to be spoken to know exactly what was going on in that moment, but neither of you had the bravery to say something about it.

You might have seen this coming had you paid attention, but you'd been too busy spending time with him and your friends in the Upside Down to even notice a change. He soon became your closest friend, someone that you missed anytime he wasn't around, someone who could change your stormy days to sunny ones with his smile and presence, someone who put himself in danger on a regular basis to protect you.

"Alright, well," he smacked his hands on his knees, standing up a bit awkwardly, "I better go. You sleep in my bed, it's more comfy than the other one."

You watched as he walked warily to the door, as if there was something inside of him telling him not to leave your side either, and your heart was heavy again like stone, yearning and aching for him to stay.

"Steve," you called his name, and stood up abruptly, taking a step towards him.

His steps came to a halt at the sound of your voice as he approached the doorframe, turning around to avert hopeful eyes back to you.

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave," you said faintly, voice cracking.

He sucked in a sharp breath of air, his heart beating fast, and lingered by the doorway as he stared at you, looking for any signs that maybe you'd misspoke, then realized you were serious by your gaze, and gently shut the door closed, switching off the light.

You both took slow, careful steps to each other, heat rising to your cheeks, until your faces were mere inches apart, your breath shuddering as you peered into each other's eyes, the moon being your only light and witness in the room as the pull in the air finally snapped.

Steve lifted a thoughtful hand to brush through a piece of hair, tucking it behind your ear, eyes glancing from your eyes to your lips, and butterflies danced in your stomach.

"So pretty," he whispered, cradling the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your lips.

"You are."

He leaned forward then, your name escaping him, hands splayed messy along your cheek, and captured your lips easily in the dark, kissing you gingerly, his mouth warm and soft against your own.

You kissed him back just as quickly, a wave of relief washing over you, hands resting on his chest, and he suddenly broke the drawn out kiss, eyes closed, leaning his forehead against yours as he inhaled shallow breaths.

"You have no idea..."

"Steve–"

He kissed you again, his lips gentle and probing, each one faster and more needy than the last, like he'd never had the chance to do it again because of the hellish world that lie underneath, and you snaked your arms under his, slipping them under his shirt and feeling the soft skin of his back.

His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, a silent way of asking for more, and you obliged, giving him permission to deepen the kiss, tongues gliding over one another in harmonious sync, and you both sighed into the kiss, chests heaving, and a sense of desperation washed over you as you tried to pull him in impossibly closer.

You gasped when you felt Steve's length brush against your thigh, and he embraced you deeply again, swallowing the sound as he roamed his hands under your shirt, humming at the discovery of skin he'd never touched before, warm palms smoothing down your ribs and resting on your ass, squeezing it.

The kiss slowed and your lips stuttered, breath hitching as his touch, and you stopped to press your lips to his cheek, before whispering to him.

"Take it off."

Steve's eyes went wide for a second, mesmerized by your request, and he muttered a quiet 'okay', and grabbed the hem of your shirt, helping you to slip it over your head, tossing it somewhere unknown.

He swore at the sight of your bare chest, glossy lips parted as he sighed deeply, his eyes dark and hooded as he traced his hands up your abdomen, stopping when he got to the swell of your breasts, and his thumbs smoothed over your hardened nipples, making you quiver under his touch.

"Steve," you whined, "need you."

He immediately got the hint and was quick to pull his own shirt over his head, tossing it aside and crashing his lips on yours again, pressing his bare chest against yours, and you felt lightheaded, dizzy at the feeling.

He cradled the sides of your face, licking into your mouth, before taking your bottom lip into his, sucking on it feverishly, and letting it go with a pop.

The action made you huff, and the sound made Steve abruptly grind his hips against yours, and before you could react, he captured your lips and guided you to his bed easily in between eager kisses, gently holding the back of your head as he laid you down on his mattress, anticipation and overwhelming excitement coursing through your veins.

He hovered over you, giving you one last long embrace, his hand pressed into the pillow beside you for leverage, as he made his way to your jaw, pressing sloppy kisses along it, then moving to your neck, his lips ghosting the delicate skin there, and you keened softly, your hands raking through his waves, giving it a gentle tug.

He hissed then, and he licked and kissed along your neck, finding the sweet spot under your ear, and your knees fell apart for him, Steve fervently sucking a pretty bruise there as a reward.

You sighed his name– a prayer, a plea, a beg– and you arched your hips against his, your inner thighs aching for him, making him groan at the sudden movement, murmuring to himself.

"Need you so bad," you whispered against his lips, reaching a hand in between you and lightly stroking his length, finding him hard and heavy for you, and Steve's breath stuttered.

"I got you baby," he pressed a lazy kiss to your lips, his voice husky, before leaning back, "it's okay."

He grasped your shorts and boxers, tugging at them as you lifted your back, helping him slide them down your legs, and he placed them on the side of the bed.

"Fuck," he rasped, gazing at the sight of your heat, face flushed, hair messy, "you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."

You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together for friction, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, 'cause you needed to feel his touch more than anything else.

Steve got the hint and traced his fingers down your thigh teasingly slow, his other hand on your knee, and swiped them through your soaked folds, praising you when he found how wet you were for him.

The touch sent an electrical shock through your body, and he easily dipped a finger in, curling it, his wanton eyes locked on your heat, and you gasped, arching into his touch.

He slipped in a second finger, curling both of them now, and set a languid, yet senual pace, your slick taking them in easily as he brushed against the spot you desperately needed, and you became a mess of quiet moans and expletives.

Steve used his free hand to further spread your knee, then squeezed the soft plush of your inner thigh as he bit the side of his lip, and he couldn't help but lean his face down, licking a broad stripe over your clit as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, and you softly cried, his tongue feeling like velvet as you pulled at his hair again.

He pushed his fingers in and out of you faster then, circling your clit long and slow with his tongue as you held onto his hair for dear life, arching into his mouth and he groaned against your heat, the vibration alone making you huff, heat beginning to pool in your lower back.

"Steve," you warned, "I'm gonna cum–"

He squeezed your thigh harder, and you were sent over the edge, your legs shaking, your gut tightening as your orgasm bloomed within you, panting as he continued devouring you through your high until you twitched.

Your body relaxed, limbs liquid as Steve pulled his fingers out, sucking your juices off of them before sitting up, and his mouth was wet with your slick as his chest heaved, face flushed, gazing at you through half lidded eyes, and you reached your arms out for him, begging for more.

He yanked off his pants and boxers hastily and crowded into you then, hand cradling the side of your face, and kissed you passionately, slipping his tongue through your parted lips, and you hummed at the taste of yourself.

"Wanna feel you," he rasped against your mouth, body trembling above you, "can I..."

"Please," was all you managed to mutter.

He reached a hand in between you then, lining himself up with your entrance, and glanced at you for any signs of regret, not finding any, and he pushed himself inside you, your walls taking him in with ease.

You both keened loudly in unison at the feeling as he bottomed out, jaw slack, and you wrapped your legs around him, caging him in as he began a slow, but deep pace, pressing all the way into you, 'cause he just couldn't help himself when you looked like that, felt so good.

You brushed your fingers through his hair, yanking at the nape of his neck, the moan leaving his lips so soft, you decided it was the prettiest sound you'd ever heard, and you pulled his face to yours, kissing him and swallowing the sound as he rocked into you, stretching out your walls in a way you didn't know you needed.

You tightened around him, and he groaned, suddenly snapping his hips into yours, and your wounded shoulders brushed against the pillows roughly, your arms stinging at the feeling, and you winced at the twinge of pain, making Steve halt his movements quickly.

"Shit, shit, shit, I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he cradled your face, pressing apologetic kisses to your cheeks, "are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathed, "I'm fine, don't stop."

He held your face, gazing through you with worried, remorseful eyes.

"We should stop, I don't wanna hurt you–"

"No, please," you pleaded, a single tear rolling down your face, wetting your hair, "keep going, I need you."

He chewed on his lip, the pad of his thumbs swiping away the tears under your lashline, and stared at you, seemingly deep in thought.

"Okay," he sighed, "here, sit up."

You looked at him through glossy, curious eyes and Steve leaned back, grabbing your hands to help you sit up, guiding you over to where he was sitting, then relaxed his head and upper back against his headboard and pillows, his knees slightly parted.

"C'mere baby."

He motioned for you to sit on his lap, and you eagerly obliged, crawling over him, your shaky legs spread over his, and he held a hand on your hip, the other one on the back of your head to pull you into his face, kissing you roughly, tongue gliding along your lips, and you sighed contently.

"S' okay, I'm gonna help you," he whispered against your lips.

You didn't respond, only humming in agreement, and Steve grasped your hips as you rested your hands on his chest, and he gazed at you with loving, lust filled eyes as he guided your hips down, sinking your aching heat onto his hard length.

You both gasped, and breathy, loud moans escaped your mouths simultaneously at the feeling as you sank down on him fully, reeling in pleasure at the new angle.

You gripped his shoulders, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed as you grinded into each other in perfect sync, Steve holding your sides tightly for leverage as he rolled his hips into yours, setting a sensual, deep pace as he watched himself disappear inside you.

"Just like that, baby– fuck," he rasped, "you feel so fucking perfect."

You only whimpered in response, his thick cock stretching out your walls and hitting your spongy spot with every roll of his hips, and he grabbed your face, pulling it towards him to kiss you as he continued to thrust up into you, his eyes half lidded and blissed out, and embraced you eagerly; sloppy, open mouthed kisses brushing against each other's lips lazily.

"You look– so pretty," he panted, "look so pretty like this."

"Fuck, Steve," you breathed, "feels so– good."

He gripped your hips then, rutting into you quick and harsh, and your movements stuttered, the both of you gasping and throwing your heads back in ecstacy, Steve hitting his against the headboard.

"Don't stop," you cried, "harder."

He enthusiastically accepted your request, gripping your hips so tight, they would surely bruise as he couldn't contain himself, and rutted into you again, starting a faster, even deeper tempo, hitting your cervix every time, and you began to lose composure.

You grinded into each other with desperation, bodies slick with sweat gliding over one another, and you grabbed his face, kissing him passionately as you moaned into each other's mouths.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, hooded eyes burning into yours, still thrusting into you, "love you so much."

His words sent an electrical current through you, and your heart bloomed with overwhelming warmth and adoration as you rolled your hips against each other with unrelenting need, and you gazed into his eyes, tears brimming at your lashline.

"I love you too, Steve," you breathed, "fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer–"

"Me neither," he panted, "cum for me, baby girl, please–"

Your walls clenched around him and your hips stuttered as you dug your nails into his back, the coiling tension inside you snapping, becoming a blubbering mess of gasps and his name, and Steve wasn't far behind, licking and biting at your lips through your high until he couldn't anymore, kissing on your neck to hold back loud moans as his vision blurred, spilling himself deep inside of you as his movements stilled.

You both slumped into each other, chests heaving as you rested your face on his shoulder, and he brushed a soothing hand through your hair, pressing gentle kisses on your cheek.

"Hey, look at me."

You lifted your head up lazily, and he cradled your face, kissing you long and slow, like his life depended on it, and you smiled, smoothing away the hair plastered to his forehead and kissing it gingerly.

Steve smiled back, resting wide hands on your sides to lay you back down on the bed next to him, sliding himself out of you, and you shivered at the loss.

He laid down next to you, pulling the comforter over your quivering body, and pulled you in close to him, liquid limbs entangled, the both of you blissed out, and he held your face, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek as you gazed at each other, his body warmth comforting.

"I don't wanna lose you," he whispered, a look of concern on his blushed face, "ever."

You reached a hand out, brushing your hands through his hair, and grinned lovingly.

"I can't promise that," your voice hushed, "but I'll try my hardest."

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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Butterfly, Sugar Baby

S.H. x F Reader

Chapter 2 to Chateau, Careless Whisper, Chapter 1 here

Summary: Steve and his girlfriend are an item now, hopelessly in love and he gives her everything beyond her wildest dreams- except for one. Steve wants to get a little rough but is afraid to hurt her, and she wants it- bad.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, old money!Steve, dom!Steve, sub!reader, unprotected pnv, spitting, oral (f), fingering, slight edging, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, choking, fluff, mentions of aftercare

Based on the song Butterfly by Crazy Town

"Now, you're mine. And I want to give you everything."

From the moment those words left Steve's lips as he held your naked body close to his, he held true to his promise. He'd always been a man of his word, after all. He'd shown you and other loved ones that side of him more times than you could count.

Six months had gone by in your relationship, and he'd bought you designer clothes, shoes, jewelry, all of the things he'd done before- but it felt different this time, now that you were his.

Steve also brought you on luxurious vacations- Paris, The Bahamas, Japan, even Iceland to witness the northern lights, cuddled close as you watched the beautiful colors in the sky within your glass hotel room.

He'd even gone out of his way to hire security for when he'd be out of town on business- sometimes days, sometimes weeks, and you missed him dearly each time, but he made sure you were safe, giving him some reassurance that you were protected when he wasn't with you.

Each time he'd come back, you waited for him outside in the courtyard wearing his favorite outfits he'd bought you, as he was always desperate and in a hurry to see you- rushing out of the taxi, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around him, spinning you as you both laughed with relief, Steve kissing you all over your face with a smile so big, it hurt his cheeks.

And everytime, without fail, that led to him throwing you over your shoulder, walking you inside, up the grand staircase, and into his room, shoes kicked off and clothes peeling off bodies in a frenzy, pushing you into the bed and kissing every inch of your skin, making sure not to miss a spot.

The sex was always sensual, romantic, slow, sometimes lasting for hours- the night always ending in blissful ecstacy, holding each other's bodies impossibly close and falling asleep naked, limbs entangled, as you drifted off with a smile on your face, grateful for everything Steve had ever done for you, grateful he loved you so much, and grateful that he was the best sex you'd ever had.

But as much as you loved the sex, he was incredibly gentle with you, always cautious with his movements, Steve always making sure that you were as comfortable as possible, and it was very... vanilla.

But you could tell from the way he'd try to compose himself when you felt a little too good, the carnal look in his eyes when he would hesitantly snake his hand towards your neck, and the way he would bite his lip so hard he'd bleed when he would abruptly snap his hips, that he was holding himself back.

You'd confronted Steve about it, kindly of course, on several occasions. The first few times, he would avoid the topic, try to deviate from the conversation, but you wouldn't let up, asking him why he was holding back so much, that it was okay to let go and get a little rough with you- in fact, you wanted it.

At first, he'd told you that he was just afraid to hurt you, that it made him feel even guilty to think of doing the things he wanted to someone he loved with every fiber of his being, but he was always quite vague about what his fantasies actually were.

One night, a few weeks back, the both of you had shared quite a drunken night together, and it suddenly all came spilling out.

With a flushed, rosy face, a big grin, tired eyes, and a hand raking through his messy hair, Steve told you everything.

He told you how badly he wanted to fuck you until you cried. How much he would love to see you helpless, wriggling underneath him. How you would look so pretty with his hand wrapped around your throat. How much he'd love to see you beg to be touched, beg for more of him, to do whatever he wanted to you, under his complete control, and most of all, to see you love it as much as him.

That conversation ended with some heavy petting and sloppy kisses, but Steve was too drunk, too sleepy to engage in any of that, so you laid him in bed, played with his hair and rubbed his back, and told him how much you loved him until he fell asleep.

The next morning, it was apparent that he didn't even remember the conversation, but you remembered everything, and you decided not to bring it up.

But everything he told you, every word that slipped from his lips, had you absolutely dazed, frenetic, reeling with lust at the thought of it, and you would be lying if you said it didn't make your face hot, your abdomen burn, ignited something between your thighs.

You wanted it. You wanted Steve to be rough with you. And you wanted it bad.

But this would need to take some meticulous planning. You would need to find a way, a plan to convince him to give in to his desires, and give him everything he wanted- the same way he'd done for you.

A few weeks had gone by since Steve made his confession- or should you say- confessions, and the two of you were getting ready for yet another black tie event he was hosting that night.

You got out of the shower, and wrapped in a towel, began doing your hair and makeup as Steve got dressed in his usual black suit and tie, only this time, opting for a black button up undershirt instead of white.

He looked awfully pretty- perfect, in fact, in his all black attire, and you took your time to eye him up and down, wondering how it was possible for him to look even more handsome, and your heart skipped a beat.

Steve caught you staring at him as you sat in front of your vanity, and he smirked.

"Looks good?" He motioned at his outfit, a cheesy grin on his face.

"More than good," you sighed happily.

"Well, shucks," he blushed, taking a step towards you and leaning down to gently grasp your chin, tilting your face towards his.

"You know I always tell you you're beautiful no matter what, but," Steve whispered in your ear, "I love your makeup like that."

"I know," you whispered back in his ear, your lips curling into a smile, "that's why I did it."

He sucked on his lower lip, humming, and placed a kiss on your cheek.

"So," he leaned back, "I'm gonna get downstairs, make sure everything is, you know, set up and ready to go. So... I'll see you downstairs in a bit?"

"Yeah," you nodded, smiling, "I won't be long. See you in a bit."

Steve stepped back and bowed in a silly, playful fashion, and you giggled, him fixing his tie, turning around and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

"Shit," your tummy dipped and rolled, "it's time."

You rushed into your shared walk in closet, pulling a small box from a hidden corner surrounded by other boxes, looked over your shoulder for a beat, and opened it, pulling out your new lingerie.

You took off your towel and slipped on your tight, black laced, sheer bralette, and quickly slipped into the matching laced panties, and stepped into a pair of sheer black stockings.

You approached the mirror, staring at the reflection of yourself, feeling nervous but hopeful, hopeful that Steve would like it.

It was a lot different than your usual undergarments, after all.

You stepped into your thin strapped, black satin dress, pulling the straps over your shoulders, the hem just barely covering the top of your stockings, and it was tight, hugging your curves in all the right places.

You put your diamond earrings in and clasped a diamond heart necklace around your neck (both gifts from Steve, of course), and stared at the woman that faced you, touching up your makeup and smoothing your hair, spraying your Chanel N°5 perfume on your neck and chest, and slipped into your black stilettos.

You let out a heavy sigh, your heart beating against your chest, smoothed your satin dress down your body, and smiled, trying your best to feel confident.

"God damn it, this better fucking work."

The party had been a great success- the occasion humble, yet incredibly elegant. People gathered around to dance, drink, converse, and laugh underneath the extravagant, glimmering chandelier in the common area, music booming throughout it, but not loud enough to drown out the bustle of the drunken crowd.

Women had been so kind as to stare daggers through you, glaring in your direction, but you paid it no mind. Steve was a well sought after man, of course, so you chalked it up to them being envious now that you were in a very public, established relationship. You just smiled and said hello, not being bothered by their negative presence.

Towards the end of the event, you stood a small distance from Steve, sipping on a glass of chardonnay, gazing at him lovingly. He was relaxing on his grey suede sofa in the corner, striking up conversations with the people around him- more so women than men- and they were sitting next to him a little too close, touching him a little too much, and laughing at his jokes a little too hard.

But it didn't bother you at all, in fact, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and you knew him for the man he really was, known him for far longer than anyone else talking with him.

You observed him with a soft smile on your face as you watched him converse- admiring his tousled, sun kissed waves, how benevolent he was, and how thoughtful he was with the people around him.

While he was In the midst of story telling with people you'd never met before, Steve caught you staring and grinned, gazing at you affectionately, and butterflies danced in your stomach, feeling a little giddy, and you wondered if you would always feel that way everytime he looked at you.

You sure hoped so.

"Excuse me, ladies," he cleared his throat, pointing to you with a blushed face, "could you please make some room for my girl over here?"

The women that were practically all over him quickly glanced over to you, and scowled, one of them rolling their eyes as they reluctantly sat up and stepped away, still lingering around just a few feet away in a stalker like manner.

Steve smiled at you, eyeing you up and down, and patted his thigh, kindly commanding for you to come sit with him.

"Come here, baby girl."

You beamed as you approached him, placing your glass on the table next to him, and eagerly seated yourself on his lap.

You crossed your legs as he relaxed back into the sofa with you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting a hand on your thigh, pulling you in close to him, and you slipped an arm behind his shoulder, your other placed on his chest.

"Mm," his eyes were hungry, biting his lip as he traced his fingers down your stockings, "these are new, aren't they? You look so pretty."

"So do you," you smiled, running a hand through his hair, "you are the prettiest man alive, Steve Harrington. And yes, they're new."

Your intimate conversation earned you two some glances, the women quickly looking away, and you swore you heard a frustrated groan.

Steve heard it too, and you both looked at each other and laughed, leaning your faces towards each other, feeling the adoration for him blooming in your chest.

"Is it bad that I think it's funny when they get mad?" Steve ghosted your lips, still chuckling.

"No, not at all," you responded quietly, "I think it's funny, too."

"I love you," he whispered, bringing a hand up to cradle your face.

"I love you, too."

He caught your lips, and you kissed each other passionately, humming into each other's mouths, when you slipped your tongue in, and he groaned, kissing you deeply before breaking it.

"What the hell are you trying to do to me right now?" He asked lowly, giving your thigh a squeeze.

"Nothing," you assured him innocently, "just wanna... feel you."

You roamed your hand down his chest slowly, and brushed it over the bulge in Steve's pants, groping it lightly.

His breath hitched, and he grabbed your hand, quickly stopping you.

"Baby," he swallowed, his voice hushed and strained, "there's people around, you know I can't control myself when you do that."

"Sorry," you guided his hand under your dress discreetly, towards the apex of your thighs, "sometimes I can't help myself, either."

Steve gasped and hissed when his fingers brushed against your sheer, clothed heat, gazing at you with half lidded, lustful eyes as he gently started to stroke you.

"Is your bra like this, too?" He asked quietly.

You nodded, biting your lip.

"Shit," he cursed, grasping the plush of your thigh, "sometimes you just make me wanna- jesus christ-"

He squeezed harder, and you sighed, leaning your face close to his ear, and whispered, making him shudder.

"Make you wanna... what?"

A slow love song began to play through the speakers, the last one of the night, and you glanced over to the common area where couples began to dance, then back at him.

"Let's go dance," you smiled.

He groaned, frustrated as you both stood up.

"You're such a fucking tease."

Steve took your hand in his, eyeing you up and down, before leading you through the crowd of curious eyes.

He held your waist firmly with both hands, you wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and he pulled you in close to him, resting his forehead on yours as you gently started swaying together.

You couldn't help but notice that out of the many times you'd danced together, this one felt the most intimate of them all.

"You know," his voice quiet, yet sweet like honey, "I think this is the closest we've ever danced in front of people."

You smirked, gazing into his brown eyes, "You read my mind."

You both smiled, Steve smoothing his hands down your lower back, and nearly stopped breathing when he tried to control himself from grabbing your ass.

He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering on your mouth.

"What are you trying to make me do to you?"

You bit your lip, heat rising to your cheeks.

"Everything you want."

Steve blushed, and didn't respond for a moment as he swayed you, looking around the room nervously.

"What do you mean, everything I want?"

"Well," you replied hushed, "you told me when you were drunk a few weeks ago. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about it ever since."

He didn't speak, only gazing into your eyes with a lustful look in his.

"I want you so bad, Steve," you whined, "I want you to fuck me so badly."

"Excuse me," he quickly cleared his throat and waved a staff member over kindly, stammering, "could you help wrap up this party? I forgot that I have... I forgot I have this thing-"

"Yeah, of course," the man nodded, smiling, "no problem."

Steve nodded back, "Thank you, appreciate it."

He took your hand, smiling and waving at the crowd of people as he led you up the grand staircase, trying his best to compose himself, murmuring under his breath to you.

"God damn, you're gonna fuckin kill me."

Once you'd walked down the hallway, Steve looked over to ensure the two of you were now out of sight, and he let go of your hand and suddenly spun around, picking you up by your waist and throwing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll, making you squeal, and you were pleasantly reminded of his strength.

He rushed down the corridor to the bedroom, cursing to himself as he squeezed at your ass harshly, biting and kissing at your hip, and you sighed contentedly.

Steve fumbled with the doorknob and opened it, walking into the room and slamming it shut behind him, before kicking off his shoes in and pulling your heels off in a frenzy, tossing them aside carelessly.

Before your feet could even touch the ground, Steve slammed you against the wall, making you gasp, and he kissed you hungrily, swallowing the sound and holding your arms against the wall, biting and sucking on your jaw and neck like he was fucking famished.

"Is this what you need," he rasped between brutal kisses on your skin, pushing a leg between yours to spread them, making you whimper, "is this what you want, sweetheart?"

You moaned softly and barely muttered out a 'yes', as he let go of your arms, letting you rake your hands through his already mussed hair.

Steve smiled against your skin and hummed, continuing his assault on your neck, leaving behind harshly sucked bruises scattered all across.

He reached a hand down to hike your dress up, palming your clothed heat and rubbing it, groaning when he realized your sheer panties were soaked.

"Fuck," he hissed, nipping under your ear, "so fucking wet already. I'm not gonna be able to stop-"

"Please, Steve," you pleaded, "please touch me-"

He quickly slipped your panties to the side and pushed two fingers inside of you, not easing his way in at all, curling them against the spot he knew you loved, and you cursed loudly, trying not to go limp as you grinded into his hand.

"You really do like it like this, fuck," Steve whispered into your ear, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with a deep, brutal pace, hitting your spot everytime.

You groaned, tugging at his hair as goosebumps spread across your skin, already going into a state of bliss.

Steve let out a breathy chuckle as he worked on you, kissing your lips lazily as your walls clamped down on him.

"Gonna cum for me?"

You nodded, becoming a panting and moaning mess.

"Cum on my fingers, right now."

Your breath hitched as the knot inside of you released, ecstacy taking a hold of your body as he continued to push into you harshly through your high.

You tried to catch your breath, tried to come back to reality when Steve pulled his fingers out of you, slowly bringing them up to your face with a wicked smile.

"Open your mouth," he commanded.

You did as you were told, and he put his fingers in your mouth, instructing you to suck on them.

You swirled your tongue around them lazily, sucking on them and whimpering as you tasted yourself, Steve watching you with lips parted, gazing at you in awe.

He pulled his fingers out, and started to hike them up your dress again.

"Steve, what are you doing-"

He thrusted them back into you, making you gasp loudly, not giving you any time to recover, and set the same ruthless tempo as he did just moments before.

"What, you thought I wouldn't do it again?" He breathed, smirking, "I didn't even get to really play with you."

He pressed the pad of his thumb onto your clit, and began rubbing harsh circles around it as he fucked in and out of you, kissing and licking your lips as your vision began to blur, already feeling another knot tightening in your abdomen as he gave you no time for a break.

"Come on, baby girl, cum for me again," Steve murmured on your lips, yanking your hair back to get a good look at your face, "I know you're already there."

You cried out his name as your second orgasm gripped you and sent shockwaves through your body, and you went limp against the wall, the only thing still holding you up being Steve, pressing himself into you.

He removed his fingers from you once again, and you shuddered at the loss as he brought them to his mouth, slowly sucking on them and groaning.

"Good girl," he praised, slipping his fingers under the straps of your dress, "you did such a good job for me. But after that... I need more from you."

He slid the straps of your dress down your arms, helping you to wriggle out of it as he pulled it down your body, kneeling to help you step out of it.

"These," he hissed, roaming his hands up your stockings as you peered down at him, "these, I like, we'll keep them on. But this," Steve snaked his hands up to your panties, "this'll just get in my fucking way."

You shuddered as he yanked your panties down your legs hurriedly, throwing them to the side of the room, and he grasped your thigh, throwing it over his shoulder as he licked a long stripe up your heat.

You gasped, instantly raking your hands through his hair again and threw your head back against the wall as Steve glided his tongue slowly but harshly over your heat, his hand under your knee to lift your leg higher, giving him more access.

"Oh my god, Steve," you groaned, tugging his hair, "please don't stop, please don't stop-"

He suddenly removed his face from your heat, giving it a gentle kiss before letting your leg drop back down, slowly standing up, and you pouted, tears prodding at your eyes as you felt overwhelmed.

"Sh, don't worry, baby," Steve wiped away the tears that threatened to fall down your face with his fingers, kissing you softly, "I'll make you cum on my mouth. Just not like this."

He snaked a hand behind you, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, sliding it down your arms, before picking you up again, and walking over to the bed, tossing you down on it, making you yelp.

"Bring those knees up for me, won't you, babydoll?"

You sniffled, and did as he asked, and he groaned, gazing at your body with dark eyes.

"So pretty, you're so pretty. My pretty girl," he smiled, sucking in his bottom lip.

You waited patiently for him, despite your desperate need to have him close again, and watched Steve with excitement as he began taking his clothes off, sliding out of his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, and taking off his boxers and slacks in one swift movement, his lips parted and his hair a mess over his face as he crawled onto the bed and kneeled in front of you.

You reached your arm out for him, wanting to touch his hard length, but he shook his head, his eyes hungry and burning into you, but his glossy lips soft and smiling, as he motioned for you to put your hand down.

"As much as I want to feel that tight pussy of mine around my cock," he crowded into you, kissing you with searing lips, "you just taste too damn good."

Steve sat back up while licking down your chest and abdomen achingly slow, pinching and rolling your hardened nipples harshly, making you shiver, and abruptly grasped your hips, bruising them, and yanked your heat up to his face, your legs over his shoulders, making you gasp.

He held a tight grip on you as he stuck his tongue inside of you, lapping you up aggressively and you keened loudly, fisting the sheets of the bed, the noise that left your lips making him moan against your heat.

Tears burned your eyes again and heat pooled in your lower back as Steve glided his tongue up to your clit, circling around it, then bringing it into his mouth, sucking on it relentlessly.

You panted as you felt his warm, wet tongue against your heat, and your legs began to tremble as the coiling tension in your stomach snapped, becoming a mess of his name and expletives as you came on Steve's mouth.

He chuckled lightly against your clit, making you twitch, and he removed his mouth from you, gazing at you and panting as he licked his lips.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He cooed, bringing your hips down just a bit.

You didn't respond, feeling lightheaded, only humming in agreement as you breathed heavily.

"Here comes the fun part," he smirked.

Steve quickly lined his hard length up with your entrance as he kept his harsh grip on you, and slammed all the way into you easily, hitting your peak, the both of you gasping and moaning at the feeling in unison as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he stammered, "you feel so- so good, pretty girl."

He pulled out slowly, only to slam back into you again, setting a deep and quick pace, and euphoria blossomed throughout you as you became a blubbering, panting mess.

He continued snapping his hips, and you could feel his cock get even harder inside of you, stretching out your gummy walls in way that could only be described as heaven.

You tried to choke back a sob- not from the brutal pace, but from the overwhelming waves of pleasure ripping through your body.

Steve noticed, groaning, continuing to pound into you mercilessly, and he smiled.

"Aw, are you gonna cry," he asked sweetly, "just feels too good? Go ahead and cry, my sweet sugar baby."

The name he called you ignited something within you, made you feel even more filthy in the best way, and you finally let your tears fall down your face, squeezing your eyes shut through the ecstacy.

Steve began to still his movements, and gingerly let your lower back fall to the bed, pulling out of you.

You looked at him questioningly through dazed eyes, and his voice was flat, demanding as he spoke.

"Sit up."

You hesitantly did as you were told, slowly sitting up.

He stayed kneeling, his face sweaty and flushed, and he motioned you over to him.

"Crawl."

Your heart fluttered as you got on your hands and knees, and crawled towards him with liquid limbs.

He held his hand, palm up in front of your face, and smirked, Steve's voice husky and commanding.

"Come on, spit."

You kept eye contact with him, and did as he asked, spitting onto his fingers, panting.

"Good girl," he praised, groaning as he spread your spit over the head of his cock.

"Come sit."

You eagerly sat up over him, your legs spread around him, your hands on his shoulders, and you sharply inhaled as you slowly sinked down onto him, the both of you simultaneously moaning and cursing loudly.

You pushed against his hips as he fucked into you slow and deep, hands wrapped tightly around your waist, Steve's jaw slack as he furrowed his eyebrows together, staring where the two of you connected as he watched himself disappear into you over and over again.

"You take me so well, sweetheart, holy shit-" he moaned, his voice husky.

"You feel so good, Stevie," you stammered, grinding into him.

"Oh yeah?"

He snaked an arm up your chest, and wrapped his hand around your throat, slightly squeezing the sides, and you cursed, grinding into him harder.

"How about now?" He rasped.

Your voice was strained, so you moaned lightly, barely nodding in agreement.

"Good."

Steve squeezed your throat harder, and you saw stars as he restricted your blood flow, and god, it made everything feel better than you could've possibly imagined.

Your body began to go limp, so he pounded into you, more than happy to do the hard work, and pulled your face closer to his, kissing and licking into your mouth desperately, passionately, but your lips were lazy against his own, in a state of pure bliss.

"Hey, look at me," Steve instructed, the first time you heard concern in his voice.

You looked at him, your eyes glossed over, and he smiled with relief.

"Cum with me," he panted, "cum with me just like this."

His sweet words made your gut tighten, and your final orgasm of the night made your walls spasm and grip around him, as Steve bit down on your shoulder harshly, stifling back a loud moan as he emptied himself deep inside you with his last few, sloppy thrusts.

He let go of your neck, and you both collapsed into each other, panting and trying to catch your breath for what seemed like an eternity, bodies slick with sweat, your mascara stained on your face, when Steve lifted your head up from his shoulder, making you look at him.

"Baby, baby," he asked urgently, a look of worry on his flushed face, "look at me. Are you okay?"

You let out a breathy chuckle, smiling at him, and your stomach filled with butterflies all over again.

"I'm okay."

"Oh, good, good," he laid you back down on the bed, pulling himself out of you and hovered over you, smoothing your hair out of your face, "how do you feel?"

You ran your fingers through his hair, gazing at him with hooded eyes before you responded.

"Amazing," you breathed, "that was amazing, Steve. I wanna do it again."

"Oh my god," he nearly sobbed with joy, kissing your lips long and drawn out, "I love you so much, so, so much."

"I love you, too," you said softly, cradling the side of his face.

"You're gonna marry me, one day. As soon as possible," he grinned.

"Is that so?" You laughed now, your heart skipping a beat at the thought.

"Yep," Steve kissed you all over your face, making you giggle, "but before we do anything, we're gonna go take a bath, get you all cleaned up, okay?"

You nodded, smiling at him, "Okay. That sounds nice."

"Lavender okay?"

"Perfect."

#old money!steve #smutty smut smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #angst #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #old money!steve smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #old money #old money!steve harrington #nsfw

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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any idea when part 2 of the old money! steve fic will be out? i love your writing so much and i’ve been obsessed with part 1 of it 💖 :)

Omg thank you so much 🥺 its getting there, it should be done sometime between tonight and tomorrow night!! Its going to be A LOT spicier!

#old money!steve #steve harrington fic

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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I Think We're Both A Mess.

R.B. x F Reader drabble

Summary: Robin and her ex always find their way back to each other, and it just might not be a good thing.

CW: MDNI 18+, wlw, angst, arguing, drinking, breakups, toxic relationship, soft smut, it's the 80s

Loosely based on the song Violent, by carolesdaughter.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." Robin's voice said hushed through the phone.

You huffed, the cord of your phone frustratingly too short as you tried to relax back in the comfort of your bed.

"It's like, 1 a.m., Robin," you sighed, rubbing your eyes.

"Sorry... did I wake you up?"

There was a moment of silence, feeling a smidge of guilt, when you decided to tell the truth, because you knew damn well she would figure it out anyway.

"No. I've been awake."

"Oh... well, why can't you sleep?"

You didn't respond, a sense of shame starting to eat at you all over again.

"Is it cause you maybe- you're drinking again?"

Damn it.

"Yes," you admitted, "yeah, I had a couple drinks."

She was quiet, and you could feel her disappointment through the phone, before she responded, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"You know I'm a wreck right now," you twirled the cord around your fingers anxiously.

"I know, I just wish you wouldn't do that. It's not good to drink when you're... sad."

"I know, but that's all that makes me feel good right now."

She didn't respond, only hearing her shallow breathing through the phone.

"So, Robin," you inquired, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, "why the hell are you still awake?"

Her voice cracked when she answered, and you instantly felt bad, feeling your heart breaking in two for what felt like the hundredth time.

"I miss you."

You sat up in bed now, your eyebrows screwing together from the sorrow that radiated through your chest.

"Don't say that."

"Well, I do, I'm sorry," she choked back a sob, which only made your own eyes begin to bubble with tears.

"I don't know how many more times we can keep doing this," you stuttered.

Robin was silent.

"I just want my clothes back," your voice shook, "just want my clothes back, and we can just- move on already."

"But I miss you."

Her voice was so small, so fragile, and it felt like someone stabbed you in the stomach with a dagger and twisted it, it felt like someone took a hammer to your heart, and you couldn't stand it.

"I'll be right there."

You hung up the phone arubtly and shot out of bed, not bothering changing clothes as you were already wearing a tank top and sweatpants- and frankly, you didn't give a shit. You just needed to get to Robin as quickly as possible.

You hastily pulled a sweater over your arms and zipped it up half assed, putting on your sneakers and turned the light off in your bedroom.

You opened your back window cautiously, careful not to wake anyone, and crawled through it, closing it and sliding down the roof, landing on the ground, quickly slipping away into the chilly autumn night.

You trekked through the neighborhood on the sidewalk, the only light in front of you coming from the moon as you journeyed your way to Robin's house, feeling more energetic than usual, but you knew that was just from the anxiety.

What you truly felt was despair, worry and love- the kind of love that hurt so bad, it made your chest tighten, gave you sleepless nights, and you pondered the thought of how many times you had been through this with Robin in the last year and a half. The back and forth. The heartbreak. The getting back together. The fighting. The fear of your parents finding out who you truly were.

You wondered which time was going to be the last time. You wondered if the two of you would do this same song and dance forever.

You wondered if the two of you could ever get over your resentments- the jealousy, the fear of PDA, who was meaner, who was the real victim in these situations.

You came across patch of small white daises in someone's grass, and your intrusive thoughts took over as you decided to bend over and pull one from the ground.

You continued walking, rolling the stem between your fingers, then plucking a petal off and letting it drop with each sentence you spoke out loud to yourself.

"She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me. She loves me not. She loves me-"

You plucked the last petal off, scowling and you tossed the ruined flower to the side.

"Whatever. Bullshit," you murmured to yourself, as you finally arrived at Robin's house. You were grateful that it was only a ten minute walk.

You stood in her front yard, and leaned down to pick up a pebble, tossing it at her bedroom window that was lit up from the inside to get her attention.

Robin approached the window quickly, pushing it up to open it, and threw out her infamous long rope of tied up sheets.

You sharply inhaled and exhaled, and took hold of the rope, Robin pulling on it tightly as you hoisted yourself up, climbing it until you reached her roof.

She pulled the tied up sheets back into her room, and moved out of the way to give you space to crawl in through her window, landing your feet on the plush of the carpet with a sigh, and turned around to close it shut.

You spun back around slowly to look at her as you unzipped your sweater and peeled it off, tossing it to the side. She was dressed similarly- which was no surprise, given the time of night- a black tank top and grey sweatpants, Robin's hair lightly tousled.

She also shared the same look on her face as your own- soft, sad eyes, lips pursed as you stood before each other, the both of you mute, the both of your hearts aching.

"Thank you for coming," she said gently, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

"Yeah... thanks for asking me, I guess," you ran your hand through your hair, lightly chuckling.

"I'm sorry. I just missed you so-"

"I know," you interrupted her, nodding your head, "I know."

She nodded back, averting her gaze to the floor, putting her hands in her pockets.

"Did you ever really love me?" You blurted, taking a slow step towards her.

Robin then glanced back to you, her face perplexed, one of disbelief.

"Of course I love you, I told you I miss you-"

"No, no," you shook your head, taking another step forward, tears brimming your eyes and you wiped them away quickly, not wanting to appear vulnerable, "I'm serious, Robin. Did you ever actually love me? Did you love me, or are you just too comfortable- too afraid of the unknown to be with someone else?"

"No, that's not true," she tried to reason, reaching her arms out towards you, then pulling them back, her voice brittle, "I do love you. I've always loved you. I always will love you. You're just... mean sometimes."

"So are you," you quickly responded, choking back a sob, "you're mean sometimes, too. I couldn't even talk to any girls, or stupid boys, without you getting all fucking unnecessarily jealous."

Robin began to cry softly now, reaching her arms towards you again, but you took a step back, avoiding her touch.

"I'm sorry. I'm just weird sometimes, you know that, and I've always been afraid to lose you. And I have already," her raspy voice quivered, "but you wouldn't even call me back sometimes, and it made me feel- made me feel like shit. I was always on the edge of my seat, waiting for you to call and tell me we were okay, I always had to find out from our friends-"

"We've already talked about this so many times," you cried, wiping your tears and nose carelessly with your wrist, "I don't really feel like fighting right now."

"Okay," she nodded, sniveling and her breath shuddered, "I'll be quiet. I know I always say that, but I really will this time, I promise."

You didn't respond, frowning as you stared at the floor, studying every piece of carpet, not knowing what else to say or do. You wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her she was everything, but you held back.

Robin's voice broke the silence.

"Do you wanna, you know, sit down," she motioned towards her full sized bed, with a flannel patterned comforter and an excessive amount of pillows and stuffed animals, "or... are you gonna leave? It's okay if you do. I get it."

You shook your head, and you almost cracked a smile at the offer, a flutter of relief in your stomach.

"No. I'll sit down."

She smiled, tilting her head and you felt her giddiness- it was always hard not to with her.

"Okay. Thank you."

You both moved your way to her bed, sitting down side by side next to each other, legs close and dangling off the side.

It was then that you were reminded of how much her presence made you feel- overwhelmed, anxious, heart wrenching- in all the right and wrong ways all at once, and you hung your head low, covering your face as you began to silently cry into your hands again, and Robin touched your shoulder, sending an electrical shock through it as she pulled you in close with both arms, beginning to cry with you and resting her head in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I'm so fucking sorry," you wept, leaning into her.

"I'm sorry, too," her voice was thick, and her hair tickled your cheek in a way you didn't realize you missed.

"I don't know how we're ever gonna be able to fix this."

"Me neither," she sniffled.

You brought your hands down from your face now, and turned your head to look at her as she lifted hers up.

Robin's mascara stained her face the same way as yours, and you hiccuped as she gave you a soft smile, gently brushing a tuft of hair behind your ear, then swiping the pad of her thumbs under your eyes to wipe your tears away.

"I fucking hate it when you cry," she said with a breathy chuckle, "you're too pretty to cry."

"So are you," you smiled, wiping her tears away the same way she did with you.

It was then you noticed that you were now holding each other's faces, almost no distance between them, but you were hesitant to let go. The tension in the air was thick, and your soul yearned for her so much, it hurt. And for a moment, you forgot all about the fights, the grudges, all the bad that ever occurred between you two.

"You know," Robin spoke in a quiet voice, close enough for you to breathe in her scent of vanilla and lavender, one you loved so much, "I still remember the way you taste."

"Shit, Robin," you exhaled, your chest warm and blooming.

"And I miss it."

You moved when she did, pulling each others faces in and pressing your lips together with familiarity, the kiss gentle, and her lips felt so soft against yours, the embrace long and drawn out.

Robin broke the kiss, only to suck in a quick breath, and crashed her lips against yours again, this time more desperate, more needy, and you hummed into each other with relief, hands raking into each other's hair, each kiss harder and faster than the last.

You both parted your lips in unison to deepen the kiss, in sync as you'd always been, and she glided her tongue along your bottom lip languid, making you sigh wantonly, pulling her in impossibly close as she nipped at it, then took it into her mouth, sucking on it feverishly and letting it go with a pop.

"Fuck," you moaned softly, pressing sloppy kisses against her neck, and Robin tilted her head back and sighed, holding the nape of your neck as you bit and sucked a pretty bruise under her jaw, another one underneath it, and one more on her sweet spot above her collarbone, the spot she loved so much, and she gasped lightly, tugging your hair at the scalp in approval.

You captured her lips again, and you groaned, Robin swallowing the sound as she stood up from the bed, pulling you up with her, the both of you naturally beginning to take each other's clothes off in a frenzy, kissing and panting through shirts being pulled over heads and tossed carelessly, fingers sliding underneath sweatpants and panties and pulled down, slipping them off ankles in a hurry, kicking the garments to the side.

Robin moved back, her body hitting the mattress, throwing her stuffed animals off the bed and pulling you in with her, throwing the comforter over your bare bodies, lying face to face, legs entangled and she kissed and sucked along your neck, groping your breasts and smoothing her thumbs over your hardened nipples, and the moan that left your lips made Robin decide it was the prettiest sound she'd ever heard.

She kissed lazily and grazed her lips down your chest, kissing in between your breasts and taking one into her mouth, a hand massaging the other, sucking on it and licking over it with a flat tongue, and you keened and tugged at her hair.

"Robin- shit," you pleaded, smoothing your free hand down the soft skin of her stomach towards her heat, "I need you, want you."

You felt her breath hitch against your skin, and she cradled the side of your face with one hand, the other one ghosting your skin down towards the apex of your thighs, making you shiver.

"Fuck- I love you, please- need you too," she nearly sobbed.

She slid her fingers through your wet folds and you gasped, running your own between hers, and Robin cursed, grinding into your hand.

"Fuck, you're so wet," she breathed.

"So are you," you whispered against her lips.

She dipped two fingers inside of you with ease, and you keened loudly, Robin kissing you deeply and swallowing the sound as she curled her fingers into your familiar spot, circling your clit with her thumb and thrusting in and out of you with a sensual, slow pace.

You quickly followed suit, slipping two fingers inside of her entrance and curling them, her wet walls tightening around them as you pushed against her nub, your breasts pressing into each other as you both arched into one another's touch.

You were a mess of open mouthed kisses and soft moans of each other's names as you worked on one another, digits pushing in and out, grinding into each other's hands as heat pooled in your lower back much quicker than you'd anticipated.

"Robin," you panted, "I think I'm gonna- fuck- I'm gonna cum soon,"

"Me too," she rasped, tears prodding at her eyes, "I love you. I love you so much, cum with me-"

"I love you too-"

You gasped as your stomach burst, shockwaves gripping your body as your orgasm bloomed, and Robin followed not a moment after, kissing and moaning into your mouth as you worked each other through your highs, bodies trembling against one another's touch.

You slipped your fingers out of each other, pulling her into you as close as possible as you embraced, her arms holding you tightly against her, kissing each other desperately through sharp inhales, trying to catch your breath.

You nuzzled your head into her chest, panting lightly and you felt her heart beat against her chest, feeling grateful for the moment you were in, yet the torn feelings flooded back once you weren't so lightheaded anymore.

"I think we're both a mess," Robin mumbled quietly, tracing imaginary drawings along your back with her fingertips, goosebumps spreading across your body.

"I think so, too," you croaked, a single tear shedding down your face and onto her skin.

"What're we gonna do?" Her voice was heavy with emotion.

"I don't know, Robin. I really don't know."

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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I've been writing soft, angsty smut lately and I REFUSE to apologize for it

But I'm sorry I'll start writing filthier ones now thank u for understanding

#im sorry #no im not #yes i am #smutty smut smut #stranger things smut #stranger things imagines

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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when the party's over.

E.M. x F Reader drabble

Summary: That night in the Upside Down changed everything between you and Eddie.

CW: MDNI 18+, extreme angst, (soft) smut, mentions of drinking, smoking, arguing, injuries, dialogue taken from season 4

Loosely based on the song by Billie Eilish.

"Oh my god, Eddie!"

"Pretty bad, huh?" He sputtered, his hair matted with blood and dirt as you held the back of his head.

"No, no you're fine, we just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?" Your voice cracked as panic gripped every muscle in your body.

"Okay."

You tried to lift him up, tried to get his bloodied body off the cold ground, but he'd grunted in pain, dead weight, too heavy to carry, so you tore your shirt, frantically trying to stop the bleeding from his neck, but it was no use.

There was a moment of silence between you two, the only noise in the background from demobats and other unholy creatures in their habitat of the Upside Down.

An ominous, dreadful feeling settled itself in your stomach as you looked at his brutalized body in horror- pieces of him bitten off all over his legs, arms, sides, and neck as he lied in a pool of his own blood, motionless.

Reality only settled in more when his glossed over eyes turned to look at you, and he smiled- a type of smile that without words, told you he wasn't going to make it.

"I think it's my year now," Eddie's voice shook as he choked out more blood, a smile still on his face, "I think it's finally my year."

"Eddie, no, please..." you quietly sobbed, pleading with him, holding him as close as you could without hurting him further, hot tears rolling down your cold cheeks.

"I love you." He confessed, his body beginning to shudder uncontrollably beneath yours.

"I love you too, Eddie," you assured your dearest friend through sobs, "I'll always love you."

It'd been 5 months since Eddie Munson died in your arms.

It'd also been 5 months since Eleven found the two of you, and restarted his heart, saving his life.

Eddie had healed from his injuries, went on to graduate, and, of course, flipped Principal Higgins off.

He'd also told you, over time, that he meant what he said when he'd told you he loved you.

You told him you meant it too. Yet, you also told him that you couldn't be together.

It was too risky, too dangerous to start something romantic with a friend, when there was a possibility you could lose him again, or he could lose you. The fight with Vecna wasn't over.

The two of you had argued about it numerous times, and as much as you wanted to be with him, be something more than friends, you were just too damn scared.

Eddie eventually said he understood, after months of trying to convince you otherwise, because you wouldn't let up. But this also caused a rift between you two.

Anytime you were around each other, there would be this strong tension in the air, this push and pull, and by refusing to do anything about it, you'd eventually distanced yourselves from each other.

You thought that you would go numb, that your feelings for Eddie would eventually subside, but it was sure taking an awfully long time.

And you missed him more than anything. But his presence was too overwhelming for you. The event that took place was too traumatic for you to even converse with him.

Trauma is just funny like that.

And now here you were, 5 months later, at someone's house party that you didn't even know the name of.

Music boomed throughout the fairly large house, a giant crowd of belligerent teenagers and young adults scattered throughout it.

Everyone was dancing obnoxiously, shouting, doing shots and shotgunning beers. Well, everyone except for you and Robin.

The two of you stood in the corner of the living room people watching, sipping on a red solo cup of a mixed drink like the usual wallflowers you were, snickering and making fun of everyone.

You were dressed similarly- tank top, flannel, and high waisted shorts, a perfect outfit for a warm August evening.

"Check out Tammy Thompson's moves," you giggled, leaning against Robin's shoulder.

"Oh my god."

She put a hand up to her face and hung her head low with secondhand embarassment, before the two of you bursted into laughter, stomachs hurting and pushing each other back and forth, before Robin's laughter stopped abruptly.

"What, what happened?" You chuckled, still smiling at her.

"Look," she whispered, a sense of urgency in her voice.

You glanced over to where she stared, to find Eddie Munson on the other side of the room, gazing at you with soft eyes, a kind grin on his face, seemingly amused with your good mood.

Your smile slowly faded and your heart dropped, going silent, and his did too, his gaze hardening before he looked away quickly, averting his eyes back to the group of teenagers he'd previously been speaking with.

"Shit," you murmured under your breath, staring into your cup and fiddling with the straw.

"I wish you guys would just talk, or fuck, or something," Robin emphasized, taking a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, right," you scoffed playfully, raising your eyebrows, refusing to look back up at him, "shoulda known he'd be at a party, selling weed or whatever it is he's doing now."

"Go talk to him," she suggested, shoving her shoulder against yours, "this is stupid. You love each other."

"I can't, Robin, I just can't," you reasoned with her, though your heart ached, "everytime I see him, I just... see him die all over again... plus, I've been drinking, probably not a good idea."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. You've had one drink. Neither of you are leaving Hawkins anytime soon. You can either stare at each other like creeps forever, or you can just clear the air."

She motioned her head for you to look at him, and you sighed, slowly averting your eyes back to Eddie to find him observing you once again.

His throat bobbed, studying your body language cautiously as you continued to stare back, taking note of his furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and long dark curls.

Damn it.

"Fine," you groaned, keeping eye contact with him, "but it's not gonna change anything."

You began to trek through the sea of the intoxicated crowd towards the backyard, knowing well that Eddie would get the hint and follow after you.

"Yay!" Robin exclaimed, "Love you! Be good! Hey, Tammy!"

You opened the sliding glass door and walked outside, not bothering to close it behind you as you knew Eddie would be out momentarily.

You stood on the back deck, arms crossed as you peered off into the night sky. Your stomach was doing backflips in anticipation- no- nervousness as you awaited his presence, counting the seconds as they went by.

11 seconds and you heard a couple of heavy footsteps behind you, the door gently slide shut, and a couple more steps walking towards you.

With a sharp inhale and exhale, you turned around, arms still crossed and took in the heartbreaking sight before you.

Eddie Munson.

He stared at you, hands in his pockets, a melancholy, yet empathetic look in his eyes, and you looked down to your feet, shuffling them back and forth, unsure of what to say.

Another moment passed before he asked, "Cigarette?"

Another moment passed before you answered in a flat voice, "Sure."

He handed you one, putting another between his lips, lighting the tip of his before using the same flame to light yours as you leaned forward into it, taking a long drag and giving him a small nod of appreciation.

"So," he exhaled, "what're we doing out here?"

"Robin." You blew out smoke, flicking your cigarette constantly in an anxious manner.

Eddie nodded, "Figures."

"Mhm," You nodded back, focusing on anything but him, until you felt that same tension, that same push and pull feeling crawling back towards you.

"Wait, what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing," he flicked his cigarette, his lips curling into a smile, "just that I figured you wouldn't talk to me unless someone told you to."

You frowned, looking to your feet again and your chest tightened, "That's not true."

"Yeah, it is," he chuckled sarcastically, "I mean, you avoid me at all fucking costs-"

"Stop it," you demanded, now scowling at him, "you act like I hate you-"

"No, it's fine," he interrupted, a shit eating grin on his face as he leaned back nonchalantly, "everyone hates me. I hate me, too. It's alright."

"Eddie," you looked at him with disbelief, "that is absolutely not true, I-"

"You what?" He took a step forward to you now, peering down at you, "you, what? Love me?"

You stared into him, faces now inches apart, feeling provoked, "You know I do."

"Yeah, right," he laughed, throwing his arms up in the air, voice getting louder, "that's why you just love to be around me, you know it's not my fault what happened-"

"Eddie," you warned quietly, "let me speak."

"Oh, so now, now all the sudden you've got so much to say? Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus christ, pick a way to be-"

"Let. Me. Talk!" You raised your voice, instantly feeling bad for it, but stood your ground anyway.

He let out a small laugh of disbelief, staring into your eyes, before he leaned back again, taking another puff of his cigarette, motioning for you to continue.

"Let me talk, please, okay?" You sighed.

He nodded impatiently, only making you angrier.

"Eddie, I love you. And I'm so fucking scared to lose you," tears prodded at your eyes now, "I know what happened wasn't your fault. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's my fault. And I feel it, and I relive the experience everytime I look at you. I've learned what it's like to lose you, and I am fucking terrified that I will again. I could lie, I could say I like it like this-"

You choked back a sob, earning a concerned look from Eddie's face, "Wait, hold on, it's not your fault either, don't say that-"

"Stop interrupting me!" You cried, tears rolling hot over your cheeks now, "I can't be with you the way you want me to, the way I want to, because I don't want to be in love with you, plan some kind of future with you, only to lose you again, or for you to lose me. So please, stop doing this to me!"

"I love you!" He shouted as he lunged towards you, his face turning red, curled up in pain as he attempted to hold yours, "I love you so much that it fucking hurts, and I can't do this, I'll never be able to look at you, and not love you-"

You took a step back, swatting Eddie's hands away, "Please, let me let you go. I can't do this. I can't keep telling you the same thing- I'm fuckin outta here-"

You shoved your way past him, opening the back door and storming aimlessly through the crowd.

"Hey!" Robin yelled at you, "where are you going?"

"I've got a ride," you lied, not bothering to make eye contact as you head out the front door, starting your journey home on foot.

You sobbed as you walked down the streets, not even knowing if you were headed the right direction, mascara staining your face as you stumbled and stopped every few steps to catch your breath, the emotional pain becoming physical as you leaned over to gasp, an even deeper sob from the last leaving your chest each time.

"Nothing's better sometimes," you tried to reassure yourself that you were doing the right thing as you trekked down the dark streets of Hawkins.

Normally you would feel scared, worried that you were walking home alone in the middle of the night, knowing what monstrosities could be around you and even underneath you, but not this time. This time, that was the last thing on your mind. And the first thing on your mind was Eddie.

Eddie. Oh, how you loved that boy so god damn much, it ached every bone in your body. All you wanted to do was be with him, more than anything, but it was just too risky. Too risky to be with him, only for him to lose you, or for you to lose him again.

You wondered if you even were making the right decision, that if that stupid saying, 'it's better to have loved and lost than never loved at all' was really true. But it was surely too late now. That argument, that fight felt like the last one. The one you couldn't come back from.

You'd only walked about 10 minutes before you heard a vehicle slowly pull up next to you, making you stop in your tracks.

You tried to compose yourself, catch your breath, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest before you turned towards it, knowing damn well what and who it was.

You slowly looked over to see Eddie, sitting in his van, his engine running and his window rolled down.

Time slowed down for you now, the world outside, the night pausing, coming to a halt around you while you stared at him, your makeup now a sorry mess on your face, as he said the simple words you didn't even know you so desperately needed, his voice stern, but his face soft and kind.

"Get in."

Your crying stopped, and you continued to gaze at him for a moment, trying to grasp the situation in front of you, before you easily agreed, not saying a word to him as you walked to the passenger side door, opened it, got in and sat down, putting your seat belt on as you hiccuped.

"Cigarette?" Eddie asked you, not looking at you, his eyes only on the road, though he hadn't started driving yet.

You nodded, your hands on your lap, only keeping your gaze directly on the lit up gravel in front of you.

Eddie put a cigarette between his lips, lighting it and then passing it to you before he lit his own, shifting his van into gear and speeding off.

Neither of you spoke as he drove through the red lights of Hawkins in a rush to get home, the radio not even turned on as you sat in blissful silence, a mutual, comforting understanding between the two of you that no more words needed to be spoken, it just simply wasn't necessary.

You had long finished your cigarette by the time he turned into the trailer park, shutting off his headlights as he pulled in front of his home, parking his van and turning it off, pulling the keys out as you clicked off your seat belt, and the two of you sat in silence a moment longer.

Eddie glanced at you for a beat, his gaze unfocused and dark before opening his door and getting out, walking over to the passenger side and opening it for you, reaching a helping hand towards you to help you get out.

You followed him up the steps of his trailer as he fumbled with his keys, then unlocking the front door and stepping inside, grabbing your arm and yanking you inside the dark of his home before you could walk in yourself, slamming the door.

Everything happened fast, as you expected.

Eddie pushed you against the front door as quickly as you pulled him into you, his soft lips finding yours easily, kissing you as hard as he could, his hands cradling the side of your face as you raked your hands through his hair and pulled him into you, humming with relief into each other's mouths.

The kiss broke, only for the both of you to sigh a blissed out swear as you surged forward again, each rough kiss feeling like a 'what if', 'why not', 'fuck it', 'this should have happened sooner'.

His hands snaked up your waist, shirt lifted, calloused hands wide and hot across your ribs. You pushed up into him more when Eddie slipped his tongue along your bottom lip, deepening the kiss, softly moaning into it as you licked into each other's mouths feverishly, desperately, and there was an ache in your heart that felt like he still wasn't close enough.

You tugged on his hair, earning a groan from him, your name leaving his lips with a drawn out whisper.

The action made your body relax into his and your knees fell apart for him, inviting him to put his leg between them, the friction of his pants against your clothed heat making you gasp softly as Eddie slid off his infamous jacket in a hurry, hastily pressing his lips against yours again as he pulled off your flannel, needy hands now smoothing up and down bare arms.

His hands roamed down to your ass as you embraced desperately, lifting you up and pressing you against the wall harder, making you yelp, as he kissed down your neck, sucking a light bruise there, another one on your collarbone when you let out the prettiest sigh he'd ever heard.

Eddie needed more, his voice rasping swears as he carried you to his bedroom, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, kissing against his neck, and he pressed you into the messy sheets of his bed, his lips still soft and probing, sighing in solace as if to say, 'finally'.

But then he pulled back, sitting before you, his lips swollen from yours as he gazed at you, and you reached your arms out to him, a sudden stinging of tears in your eyes, quietly whining for more.

"It's okay, I got you babe, don't worry," Eddie reassured you softly, peeling his shirt off of himself, then pulling you up by your arms to pull your tank top off and unhook your bra in a hurry, throwing the garments to the side and he leaned into you again, kissing the tears off of your face before they could come running down.

He sucked on your bottom lip hungrily, and you whined, reaching between you to grab at his belt, a pretty whimper leaving your lips as you tugged at it wantonly, making him hiss.

You were begging, pleading with him, 'more, please, more,' in a small voice that drove Eddie absolutely mad, his hard length straining against his torn jeans, all for you.

He cursed to himself in a hushed voice, biting his lip and sighing heavily, and he gave in, taking his belt off and tugging his pants down his legs frantically, leaning back with a sigh of relief as his rather large length was free.

"C'mere," you insisted, reaching for him, wanting to touch him, wanting to smooth your hands along the scars in his sides that you never got a chance to care for, but Eddie shushed you, placing a kiss to the side of your knee to comfort you as he saw you were overwhelmed.

"Just want you," his voice low and husky as he fumbled with the button of your shorts before he paused, his eyes heavy and half lidded, "that okay?"

"Please. Want you too," you whined, arching your lower abdomen into his hand, motioning for him to hurry.

Eddie unbuttoned them in a frenzy, pulling your zipper down and sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, tossing them aside.

He had to lean back and take a moment, his eyes hungry and dark, his lips slightly agape as he took in the full sight of you, and cursed to himself at how pretty you looked.

He gazed at you and then your heat, groaning and praising you for how wet you were when he slid two fingers along your folds, his thumb grazing over your clit, trying to contain himself from absolutely ruining you.

You keened at his touch, grinding into his hand and he bit his lip at your reaction, spreading your knees farther apart for more access as he dipped a finger inside of you easily.

You gasped at the action, and Eddie quickly dipped in a second finger, curling and thrusting them in and out of you languid, gazing in wonder, getting impossibly harder by the second.

"Eddie," you rasped, "I need you. I love you."

He pulled his fingers out and crowded into you then, his hand sprawled messy but gentle along your throat and jaw, kissing and licking into your mouth deeply, moaning into each other as he lined himself up with your entrance.

You brought your knees up to your sides, caging him in, and he pressed a hand into the pillow next to you, hovering over you as you rested a hand against his scarred chest as he pushed into you.

You both let out a gasp of each other's names and expletives as your slick made it easy for him to push all the way into you, bottoming out, and Eddie gave you a moment to get used to the feeling, the pad of his thumb gently stroking your cheek, and curled his hand under your knee, lifting it up over his shoulder before he pulled out slowly, and pushed into you again.

He set a slow but sensual, deep pace and as much as you wanted more, it felt amazing, the both of you panting softly, cheeks flushed and skin slick with sweat, clutching the sheets of his bedding as he pushed in and out you, his lips kissing lazily against your own as you pushed against his thrusts, hitting the spot you so desperately needed.

Eddie picked up the pace, and with the stuttering of his hips, you knew that he was already getting close, understandably so, as you were too, a result from the want- the need from each other you needed for so long, and you couldn't wait anymore, not when he stretched out your walls so perfectly, when he felt so deep, so amazing.

When your walls squeezed against him, his hips snapped and Eddie cursed, his jaw slack as the both of you moaned in ecstacy.

"Jesus christ," his voice was hoarse between thrusts, "you can't do that, I'm not gonna last long."

"Me neither," you mumbled as he continued to massage your inner walls, the curls of his hair tickling your face.

You nearly cried out when he gripped your hip tightly, sure to leave a bruise, and he couldn't help himself anymore, not when you looked so pretty, not when you felt so good.

Eddie bit back a moan, sinking his teeth into your knee as he spilled himself inside you, his hips stuttering as you followed closely behind, your walls gripping him and pulsing as your orgasm took ahold of you, your lower tummy blooming deliciously as he rocked into you through each other's highs.

His hips finally stilled, and his body went limp into yours, the both of you panting against each other, his head in the crook of your neck, pressing sloppy, loving kisses along the side of your face, smoothing stray hair strands away from your forehead.

He pulled out of you and you whimpered, but Eddie was quick to catch your lips, swallowing the sound and he kissed you passionately, before tumbling next to you, pulling your slick body into his, limbs entangled, trying to get impossibly close.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, eyes closed, "and you're never gonna lose me. Okay?"

Tears prodded your eyes, and you nodded eagerly, smoothing your hands up and down his scarred sides, not knowing if it was true, but you smiled anyways.

"I love you too."

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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Chapter 2 to Chateau, Careless Whisper coming soon ♡

Chapter 1 here

#steve harrington smut #smutty smut smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #old money!steve #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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heyyy, just wanted to check up on you cause i know you said you got depressed and i saw from your bio the whole manic thing and just wanted to say i totally get it i got bipolar disorder💀

awww thank you baby, you're so sweet! I have BPD, bipolar and C-PTSD, it's so fucking fun 😂 I'm okay as I can be right now. I hope you're doing okay!!!

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kurtie4life96 · 1 year

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My Fic Masterlist

You can find my prompt list here

18+ only, MDNI or I'll fuck your mom and dad

I enjoy writing fics based on songs currently

I'm ALWAYS working on more and will update as I post, a follow is extremely appreciated!

Fluff- 💖

Angst- ❤️‍🩹

Smut- ❤️‍🔥

Steve Harrington

Chateau, Careless Whisper 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Based on the songs, Old Money Steve

Halloween Night (poly with Robin Buckley) 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Reader finds out she has feelings for both of her friends

Heated ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Reader is jealous, Steve reassures her with sexy time

Be Quiet 💖❤️‍🔥

-Going camping with the group, sexy time

The Crybaby 💖❤️‍🩹

-Reader is haunted, Steve tries to help, a horror story

Eddie Munson

I'm Afraid I'll Go To Heaven ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Based on the song, reader helps Eddie get rid of evangelicals with sexy time

Nothing I Wouldn't Do 💖❤️‍🩹

-Reader is depressed, Eddie tries to help her

Not Nice ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Eddie and reader get into an argument, then sexy time

Enough💖❤️‍🩹

-Eddie reassures reader she's more than enough

Little Shit 💖❤️‍🩹

-Reader defends Eddie and beats some Jason ass

Robin Buckley

No Sharing 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Robin reminds reader who she belongs to with sexy time

Dirty Dishes 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Reader is mad at Robin, she shuts her up with sexy time

Halloween Night (poly with Steve) 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Reader finds out she has feelings for both of her friends

Run Away 💖❤️‍🩹

-Reader takes off to protect the group from something horrible, Robin goes after her

Kurt Kunkle

Criminals 💖❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥

-Reader is old friends with Kurt, and changes the outcome of Spree

271 notes · View notes

kurtie4life96 · 1 year

Text

Song request: Chateau by Djo with Steve Harrington of course! But with OLD MONEY STEVE. smut if that's okay :) I love you!!

Chateau, Careless Whisper

S.H. × F! Reader

Summary: Steve runs into an old fling from high school at a party. He's very sought after, but she doesn't know about his money and popularity, and he is intrigued to say the least.

CW: MDNI 18+, old money!Steve, fem!reader, old flings, fluff, angst, drinking, jealousy, soft(ish) smut

AN: I decided to add Careless Whisper by George Michael with this, it just fit with the plot in my head, sorry!

Part 2 here!

Standing in the warm, summer night in front of a château style home in August, 1990, you ran shaky fingers through your hair, and tugged your black dress down at the hem, smoothing it, then staring at the large, lit up house before you, nearly having an anxiety attack at the sight of it.

It was gorgeous- a diamond in the rough of Hawkins, Indiana. The exterior of the large home was crafted with white wood paneling, grey steeply pitched roofs and shutters, accompanied with tall, arched windows. You stood in the courtyard, a quaint and simple fountain in the middle, a walkway compiled of stone surrounding it that lead to a similar looking guesthouse towards the back, with lush green grass and trees all around.

Music roared from within it, and you took a deep breath, your skin buzzing with nervousness and anticipation. You took a moment to reach into your small purse, spraying a cheap, but decent perfume on your chest, then began to walk towards the tall, double front doors, your heels clicking under you as you headed towards the black tie event that you'd heard gossip about for nearly a week.

A man you'd never seen before greeted you at the entrance, wearing a black suit and tie, his hair slicked back neatly, carrying a tray of glasses half full of champagne, offering one with a warm smile.

You accepted it, perhaps a little too eagerly, but needed something to calm your nerves. You thanked him with a nod and a smile, and stepped inside.

The interior was lit up brightly with a soft yellow glow, the design of the home elegant, elaborate, yet quite modern with a humble feel to it, tasteful paintings hanging on the walls, and a grand staircase. A large crowd of people dressed in black, designer clothes were scattered about underneath a crystal chandelier, chatting amongst themselves loudly enough to drown out the music.

You took another deep breath, your anxiety nearly taking over, as you tried to calm yourself by remembering the five senses.

What can you taste? The bubbly champagne, of course.

What can you smell? A mixture of unknown women and men's perfumes and cologne- a bit strong and a little nauseating.

What can you hear? Classical music and obnoxious voices.

What can you see? A crowd of people that you could only assume were pretentious and full of themselves, yet cleaned up extremely well.

What can you feel? Goosebumps on your skin. You can feel the cold glass in your hand. You can feel the fabric of your dress as you smoothed it down your body again, feeling self conscious.

Well, that didn't help.

Your stomach did backflips as you made your way throw the crowd aimlessly, apologizing over and over again, trying to compose yourself, feeling exposed, like you didn't belong there.

You stood in the corner, people watching, feeling like a wallflower, a part of you looking for familiar faces, although you knew none would be there.

Another well dressed gentleman walked by you gracefully with another tray of champagne just as you'd finished your first, and you grabbed a second, feeling grateful for the slight buzz that ran through your body.

As you sipped the alcohol, trying to gain the confidence to approach someone in the crowd, someone else approached you to your left to greet you, a familiar voice that startled you, making you gasp.

"Woah, shit, didn't mean to scare you!" He smiled, putting his hands up in an attempt to steady you.

You chuckled, a hint of annoyance and disbelief in it, as you turned to face the old fling standing before you.

He was wearing a black suit and tie like the rest of the men, an expensive looking watch on his wrist, his classic long, sun kissed waves framing his face- and damn it, you couldn't deny that he looked striking, and his cologne of cedarwood and citrus was intoxicating.

"Harrington," you grinned arrogantly, raising an eyebrow and standing up straight, crossing one arm over the other.

Steve slightly bowed, reaching an arm towards you in a cheesy fashion as he held his own glass of champagne in the other.

"In the flesh."

You smirked at his silly action, feeling a little caught off guard.

"What is a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Well," he leaned back, taking a sip, "I could ask you the same question."

You gave him a skeptical look.

"Oh, well," he stammered, laughing awkwardly, "not that you're a guy, I mean, obviously you're not- you know what mean, right?"

You took another sip, chuckling at him, "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders, smiling sheepishly.

"You've still got the same big, long hair, same demeanor, still cocky... isn't that right?"

"Yeah, well I never lost my charm, so I guess I haven't really changed," he winked at you, "So, it's been what- four years?"

"Yep, four years since we last saw each other, through all the Upside Down shit. And six years since you... broke my little heart?" You crossed your legs and leaned back against the wall.

He frowned at that statement, making you feel a little bad, but you would never let it show.

"I'm just giving you some shit, Harrington. No hard feelings." You laughed.

He smiled again and nodded, running his hand through his hair.

Couples began to gather around the common area, dancing intimately to a slow song that started to play throughout the large house.

Steve glanced over at the crowd, then back at you.

"Might I say, you look ravishing tonight. May I have this dance?" He set down his glass and reached an arm out towards you, a hopeful look on his face.

"I think that's the weirdest fucking thing I've ever heard you say. What are you, Shakespeare?" You laughed, downing the rest of your champagne.

"Well, no. I just thought that maybe you'd like to talk, over there?" He motioned towards the flock of couples. "Cause, I know you've been kinda wandering around here awkwardly, wouldn't you like to be with a familiar face?"

He held a hand to you again, waiting for your response.

"Fine," you groaned, setting your glass down, "but that was uncalled for."

Steve smiled as he took your hand in his, leading you gingerly through the crowd, and they made note to move out of the way.

He intertwined his left hand with your right, placing the other along your lower back. You rested your hand on his shoulder, as he began to sway you gently.

"You know, you should feel lucky, Harrington," you remarked, grinning at him, "because I don't dance."

He ignored your comment, instead gazing into your eyes, softly smiling at you with his stupid, perfect teeth.

"You know, you should really just call me Steve now." He suggested, a voice of honey.

You scoffed, "Okay, Steve... just still feels a little weird to say your first name."

"And why is that?" He questioned, pulling you a little closer towards him.

Careless Whisper began to echo throughout the room, and the song was a little too fitting for the situation you were in, making you feel a bit unfocused.

"I don't know... maybe it has to do with the fact that you used me as a rebound for that summer in high school, only to tell me you couldn't get over Nancy."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows together, seemingly deep in thought before he answered, "I don't think that's necessarily true."

"And why is that?" You repeated his question, still swaying to the music.

"You weren't a rebound. I really do- I mean, did like you, a lot. I was just confused. I didn't even know what I was feeling. I haven't seen her in-"

"It's okay, Steve. It's been years. I'm over it." You chuckled nervously.

"Are you?" He asked, smirking at you.

You nodded, a hesitant smile on your lips as you took note of each other's faces.

"Best summer of my life," he admitted quietly, "I've always thought about you, was never able to get you out of my head, you know."

Your chest grew warm and bloomed at his statement, "Me neither."

He was a bit taken aback, but beamed at you.

"So," you teased, "considering that you're here, dancing with me, I'm assuming your dream of 6 kids, living life on the road in an RV didn't work out?"

"Nope." He enunciated the word with a pop of his lips, looking around the room.

You heard whispering around you, and looked around too, finding people staring at the two of you, practically gawking.

"Why the fuck are they staring at us?" You asked, glaring right back at them.

"I don't know, they're just weird people, I guess," Steve replied, looking back at you with an amused smile, "so, you never answered my question."

"What question?" You focused back to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well," you sighed, still lazily swaying with him, "I heard through the grapevine at work that a lot of, you know, big shots were gonna be here. I thought I'd take a chance at talking to one of them, try to score a job. I'm barely able to afford my own apartment. Hard to do that when you're just a waitress."

Steve nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"Obviously, I can't even do that," you laughed, "cause now I'm just here, dancing with you."

He smirked, staring at your face for a moment before responding, making butterflies dance in your stomach, only now realizing the close proximity of your faces.

"I think I can help with that."

"Really?" You perked up, "How?"

The song began to fade away, the crowd of people dressed in black beginning to gather in groups, chatting amongst themselves again.

Steve gently let go of you, pulling a card out of his coat pocket and handing it to you. It had his name and phone number on it, but no other information.

"Here," he placed the card in your hand, "why don't you give me a call in, let's say... tomorrow?" He suggested. "Tomorrow morning."

"Oh, okay," you smiled gratefully, putting the card in your purse, "well thank you, Harrington. I really appreciate that."

"Don't thank me," he took your hands in his as he spoke, "it's the least I can do for you."

You gazed at each other with stars in your eyes, squeezing his hands for a moment, wondering if he felt the same tension as you.

"So," he let go of your hands, "I hear they're shutting this party down soon. You should go before they do, beat the traffic, you know."

"Okay," you nodded, "well, thanks again."

Steve nodded back, and you began to walk away.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, making you turn around to look at him again.

"Yeah?"

"Call me, Steve, okay? Talk to you soon."

You scoffed playfully, and turned around to walk out the door, feeling excited, hopeful, giddy as you walked to your car, squealing in joy as you drove away.

You were awoken by the god awful sound of your alarm clock, groaning as you rolled over in your bed to shut it off with an annoyed smack of your hand. You closed your eyes, getting comfortable for a moment longer, before they shot open again, realizing that you had a very important phone call to make.

You sat up abruptly, snatching the comforter off of you, heading to your small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee, hastily pouring the creamer in, mixing and taking a sip, preparing for the call you were about to make.

A part of you wondered why you were so nervous to call him. Were you worried that he wasn't being serious when he said he'd help you? Was the job going to be a big flop? Or did Steve Harrington still make you feel nervous after all these years?

Maybe a mix of everything.

You picked up his card from the kitchen counter, walking over to the phone on the wall. With a big inhale, exhale, you picked up the phone and dialed his number.

It only rang for three seconds before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hey Steve, it's-"

He interrupted you, chuckling, "Finally, I've been waiting for you to call all morning!"

You laughed, "What? It's only 9 a.m."

"I know, I know," he emphasized his words, "I guess I've just been absolutely buzzing with excitement."

"Oh...kay," you teased, "why's that?"

"I don't know, just lonely, bored nowadays," he replied, "so, anyway, I've set up an interview for you at that coffee shop, you know, the one on 6th Street? There's this guy that's very interested in speaking with you."

"Oh, sweet, thank you! Um, what's the job again?"

Steve ignored your question, "So be there around 11. Also, give me your address. I'm gonna send a taxi over to your place to pick you up. Don't bring your car."

"Okay," you went on to give him your address, "but why?"

"I hope it goes great! Let me know after, okay? Talk to you later." He stuttered between his words and abruptly hung up the phone.

You removed the phone from your ear, staring at it for a moment, feeling puzzled to say the least, before you reacted.

"What the fuck?"

You hung the phone back up on the wall.

"That was fucking weird," you continued to talk to yourself, heading to your bedroom, "who just hangs up like that? Fucking Steve Harrington. What in the fuck was that?"

You quickly took to getting ready, slipping out of your pajamas, showering, putting on some makeup- not too much, just the right amount.

"Business casual," you reminded yourself, "not too casual, but not too much."

You finished your hair and opted for a pencil skirt, flats, and a simple blouse.

You stood before your reflection in the mirror, repeating comforting words of affirmation to yourself, as you smoothed your outfit down and checked the time on your watch.

10:53.

"Shit!"

You grabbed your purse and ran out the door, down the stairs of your apartment and outside, to see a yellow taxi waiting for you in the parking lot.

You opened the backdoor and got in hastily, anxiety taking over again.

"Hi- hello, sir," you spoke to the driver, "the coffee shop on-"

"6th Street, I know." The cab driver smiled and began to drive.

"Oh, um- thank you." You responded and smiled at him, fumbling with your hair as he drove.

Once he arrived at the destination, you grabbed your purse, reaching in to grab your wallet.

"How much do I owe you sir?"

"It's been paid for, ma'am." He assured. "You have a nice day."

"Oh shit- fuck- I mean, thank you. You too!" You stepped out of the car, facing the coffee shop.

What the fuck?

You smoothed down your outfit again, brushed your fingers through your hair and composed yourself, forcing a smile on your face, though your anxiety was through the roof.

You walked in, smelling freshly ground coffee beans and feeling the air conditioning in the shop blasting as you looked around the room for who you might be meeting.

It was easy to see who it was, considering there was only one person, sitting in the corner of the coffee shop with a shit eating grin on his face.

What the FUCK?

"Harrington?!" You exclaimed, a beyond confused look on your face.

He leaned back, his hair tousled perfectly, annoyingly wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hands clasped together.

"In the flesh."

"What-"

"And remember, call me Steve."

You walked slowly towards him, wondering if there was a possibility you were hallucinating.

"Please, sit." He pulled out a chair for you, looking a little too cocky.

You reluctantly did as he asked, setting your purse down, keeping eye contact with him.

"What can I get you to drink? On me." He stood up, still grinning, like he'd won some sort of game.

"Um... just a mocha, thanks."

Steve nodded and walked to the front counter.

You sat deep in thought as you waited. Is he playing some mindgame with you? Is he still just an asshole? Why did he lie to you?

"Here's your mocha," he set it down on the table for you, "and I got one too, though I'm not much of a coffee drinker myself-"

"Why did you lie?" You interrupted him.

He sat down in front of you, furrowing his brows, "Lie?"

You nodded, impatiently waiting for a response, frustration coursing through your veins.

"Well, I didn't necessarily lie. I told you I'd help you, and you'd have an interview," he laughed quietly, "and, it was me the whole time!"

"Yeah, I've figured that out by now." You huffed. "Are you just trying to mess with me, embarrass me or something? If so, I'm just gonna walk out right now-"

"No, no!" Steve assured you, putting his hands up, "no, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to mess with you. I guess it was kinda stupid that I did it like this."

"Then why am I here?"

He took a sip of his coffee, leaning back in his chair, "For a job."

"What job?"

"Well," he sighed, trailing off for a moment, "please just listen to me. Just let me talk, and trust me. Please?"

You leaned forward in your chair, crossing your arms on the table and raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm listening."

He exhaled nervously, running a hand through his hair and scooting his chair closer to you, resting his hands on the table.

"So, during the time we kinda... drifted apart, I inherited some money. And if you remember, my dad had a lot of money."

You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Well, and please don't get mad, but that house party last night? It, uh... just so happens that house is... mine." Steve chuckled awkwardly.

"What?!"

"Let me finish, okay?"

You groaned, a look of worry on your face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you that last night. It was just nice to see you again and talk to you, talk to someone that knows who I am as a real person and doesn't just try to talk to me for... my money, you know? And when you brought up that you needed a job, it got me thinking-"

You cut him off, "Thinking what?"

"Ugh, let me finish!" He groaned, "It got me thinking that I've needed someone to... run my house?"

"Like a house manager?"

"Yeah, like a house manager," he smiled, "you know, travel arrangements, manage my budget, organize parties or social stuff... I'm not exactly good at... those type of things."

"Yeah, I could see that." You teased, finally cracking a smile.

Steve scoffed playfully, "Shut up! I know, I know. The thing is, I've never hired anyone to do it because I don't really trust any random person with things like that. I saw a friend, someone I trust, and I thought, why not?"

He shrugged and smiled, waiting for your answer, his leg bouncing nervously.

"So," you sat up straight, crossing your legs, "would I be a maid, clean up after you? What's the catch?"

"No catch," Steve shook his head, "I already have a maid. You'd have to move in with me-"

"Woah, woah, woah," you interrupted, "move in with you-"

"Jesus, sweetheart, let me talk," he laughed, motioning his hands for you to calm down, "not in my house. I have a guesthouse in the back. It's got a kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, everything you need for your own privacy. And you'd live in it for free. And I would pay you."

You perked up, "How much?"

"Let's say..." He thought for a moment, "$100,000? Just to start off?"

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor, your eyes widening.

"Steve-"

"Don't say no." He said kindly, smiling at your reaction. "Unless you want to. That's okay, too. I just thought... it's the least I can do. Win-win situation?"

You stared at your coffee in disbelief, your heart beating so loud, surely he could hear it. Time slowed down, the world coming to a halt. So much so that you hadn't even realized that Steve reached out his hands to hold yours gently through your shock.

"I'll do it." You exhaled and glanced back over to him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

"Really?" He beamed, squeezing your hands.

"Yes," you squeezed his back unknowingly, "only because I need this so badly. I could go back to school, I could take care of my family... Steve, I don't even know how to begin to thank you-"

"You don't have to," he reassured, "like I said, it's the least I can do."

You gazed at each other for a few moments, smiling so cheesy you almost couldn't stand it, and you again wondered if he felt the same tension between you as the night before.

It was only then did you finally notice that you were holding hands.

"So, um," you cleared your throat, pulling your hands back.

Steve did the same, his throat bobbing as there was an awkward bit of silence.

"So..." you finished your question, "when do I start?"

"Oh, today, if you want." He leaned back in his chair nonchalantly, as if what he just said wasn't a big deal.

"Today?!" You reiterated.

He nodded, a cheeky look spreading across his face again.

"Um, okay, but what about my stuff, my apartment-"

"The movers will take care of all that," Steve assured you, "you don't need to lift a finger. They'll start moving your stuff into the guesthouse today. If you want."

You wondered how any of that could happen so fast, but excitement pushed the thought to the back of your brain.

"Welp," he stood up, hands on his hips, "are you ready to go?"

You stood up after him, grabbing your purse, "Go? To your house?"

"Yep," he pulled his keys out of his pocket, swinging them around his fingers, "let's go."

You quickly followed him out the door, giggling with joy as Steve opened the passenger door of his red Cadillac for you. You got in, admiring the interior as he sat in the driver's seat and started the car.

"Steve?" You asked as he began to drive towards his house, the hot summer breeze flowing through each other's hair.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't gonna be, like... a weird sugar daddy situation, is it?"

He nearly choked on his own spit nervously, clearing his throat, "No, no, definitely not."

"Cause it's almost too good to be true, you know?"

"Definitely not." He repeated, looking over at you with a warm smile, then reverted his eyes back to the road, and you swore you saw a hint of a tense look on his face.

The next four months went by far too quickly. You were the happiest you'd ever been, feeling so grateful for the opportunity Steve had given you. You meticulously orchestrated the most extravagant house parties, took care of his finances, made sure his bills were paid on time, arranged his travel arrangements with perfection, and made his life much easier for him, which he showed great appreciation for.

The guesthouse you'd been living in was much more than you thought it was going to be. Two stories, fully furnished with the finest materials, a large kitchen with marble counter tops, the most luxurious bathroom, and the softest bedding you'd ever had the pleasure to sleep in, not to mention the insane salary, which Steve had already increased greatly on multiple occasions.

You were living the most amazing life, far past your highest expectations, but there was a feeling you couldn't shake, and you couldn't stand it.

Every time you put together a large gathering for a house party, you couldn't help but feel a little jealous when other women interacted with him, laughing at his jokes a little too loudly, having conversations with him a little too intimately, and dancing with him a little too long for your liking. But Steve still took the time to dance with you, of course, in a friendly manner, and you reminded yourself that he was a highly respected, well sought after man, and you just had to accept that. But god, did you hate it.

Every time Steve left for a business trip, whether it'd be a few days or a week, you found yourself feeling awfully lonely, isolated even. You kept busy by managing the house, doing your job, but you couldn't help but to feel insignificant, even abandoned, which you scolded yourself for, feeling embarrassed of yourself. He was your boss, after all. But god, you just fucking hated it.

But Steve did make up for it, of course. You never told him how lonely you were feeling, but he must have gotten the hint, as he would shower you with gifts. He'd bought you a new, much more reliable car in your favorite color. He'd gifted you a wardrobe of designer clothes, shoes and bags. He'd sent you on spa days that he'd pay for, massages, manicures, pedicures, and sent you to luxury salons to get your hair done. You hadn't even needed to touch your own money. You felt bad for all the gifts, telling him it wasn't necessary, that you were just there to do your job, but Steve always insisted, always reiterating that it was the least he could do.

The least he could do. Sometimes you wondered about that statement.

You were facing the fact that you, indeed, had feelings for Steve Harrington. And you wondered if you'd always had, ever since that summer in high school.

You felt ashamed of yourself, as it was so inappropriate to be in love with your own boss. But you'd known him long before he became a big shot, long before all these other people had known him, and so it was a difficult feeling to shake away.

You felt guilty for having these feelings, because Steve had done so much for you. You didn't want to be in love with him, as he showered you with things you'd only dreamed of. What if he meets the love of his life, and continues to be so generous towards you? That wouldn't be fair to them.

But at the same time, you couldn't tell him that you'd fallen for him. He'd always had trust issues, and you didn't want him to feel like you were taking advantage of him, or be accused of it. You didn't want to hurt him and break that trust.

It was all so conflicting, it drove you mad.

It didn't help that the two of you would spend your free time with each other, having dinner together at his large house, watching movies, laughing, friendly brunch dates, all of which included lingering stares, curling up on the couch a little closer together than platonic friends would do, Steve's endearing nicknames for you, his compliments, hands barely touching as you conversed, dancing slowly, warm bodies close together.

And you pondered the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same electric buzz on on his own skin, the same butterflies in his stomach, the same fireworks, the same pull, the same tension as you did. Because you swore you could see it in his eyes when he looked into yours, in his smile, his body language.

Surely, you were just imagining things.

It wasn't something you could focus on right now anyway, so you shoved those feelings as far away as you could. You had a Christmas party to plan.

December 18th, 1990.

Steve's house was bustling with large crowds of people, holiday music softly playing throughout the large common area, a 20 ft large Christmas tree tucked away neatly in a corner, decorated accordingly with expensive ornaments, gold and silver lights wrapped around it, with a stupid little angel right on the top.

Five senses.

There was a fragrance of white pine, vanilla and cinnamon in the air. Cheerful, well dressed people chatted amongst themselves with an optimistic tone to their voices. Twinkling lights hung from the ceiling and red ribbons wrapped around the grand staircase in an elegant fashion. Your hand was wrapped around a glass of wine, and damn, did that cabernet taste a little too good.

All of this was happening because of your careful planning, but you definitely weren't feeling the holiday spirit.

You'd been standing by the Christmas tree alone for 2 hours now, sipping your fourth glass of red wine as you people watched with a bitter look on your face.

Despite how you felt, you were looking good. Really good.

You were wearing a satin red dress that hugged your body just right, a slit along the side of the dress to your upper thigh. Your hair was done elegantly, and on your lips was the perfect shade of red just right for your skin tone, fit with diamond jewelry and strappy heels- courtesy of Steve, obviously.

Speaking of Steve, you watched him in your usual wallflower fashion, conversing with people you didn't recognize, laughing, and having a grand old time with his usual black suit and tie, and his stupid perfect hair.

You took another sip, feeling a little forgotten about, and a little vulnerable as you stood alone, watching the party near its end.

A few minutes went by, and Steve suddenly gathered everyone around for a toast. You hesitantly walked towards the crowd, and watched as he thanked everyone for coming, thanked the chefs, the decorators, the butlers, and then thanking you, taking you by surprise.

"And I'd like to thank my beautiful house manager here," Steve gestured towards you, raising his glass as the crowd turned to look at you, "she single-handedly planned every bit of this get together, and I'm so gratetul to her for making this such a wonderful party, and for being my greatest friend. You're amazing."

"Cheers!" Everyone exclaimed, nodding at you in approval, and Steve winked at you.

You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks getting hot, taking another sip of wine, and for a fleeting moment, you didn't feel so alone anymore, so inferior.

That all came crashing down quickly.

Just as you thought Steve was about to take your hand and ask you to dance, another woman practically threw herself onto him, insisting she dance with him. He was a little taken aback, but reluctantly agreed to dance with her, and you swore that she had flashed you the most evil grin you'd ever seen.

Maybe it was the feelings you had for Steve, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe both, but rage coursed through your body at the sight. You felt annoyed, revolted, hostile, jealous.

You began to step backwards from the two of them, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lip nearly quivering as you backed away.

You made your way to a nearby table and downed the rest of your glass, setting it down as you glared at the two of them. Steve glanced over to you and caught your eye, his smile quickly fading and a worried, almost remorseful expression taking over.

You didn't want to act out, ruin Steve's party, ruin your friendship with him, so you stormed away, navigating through the large, drunken crowd and walking out the backdoor to head to your own private house, trying not to let hot tears spill down your face.

You walked in and slammed the door behind you, locking it and kicking off your heels. You turned on the lights and headed to your bedroom, sat down on the soft blankets of your bed, and finally allowed your emotions to pour out of you, sobbing to yourself and cursing yourself, mascara running down your cheeks.

Why am I like this? Why do I feel like this? I'm so stupid. So fucking stupid. We dated for 3 months when we were just kids. We hardly even kissed. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'll just have to quit. Tell him I'm moving. Find him a new manager, one he can trust. One that won't fall in love with him. God, how could I be so fucking ungrateful?

You sat up from the bed, absolutely bawling, and stumbled on the plush carpet to your full length mirror. You stared at yourself for a while, taking in shaky breaths, taking note of the expensive dress, the expensive jewelry, the expensive makeup- now a mess on your face.

"So fucking ungrateful!" You scolded the reflection in the mirror.

It was only then did you hear your front door close shut, and Steve's voice calling out your name softly.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

You quickly wiped the smeared makeup off of your face and tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

You walked out to the living room where Steve stood awkwardly, holding a ring of keys in his hands.

"Hey, Harrington." You tried to muster a smile.

He frowned at your greeting, looking concerned.

"Hey. Uh, sorry, you looked upset, and I heard you crying, so I kinda let myself in."

"Oh." You sniffed.

There was a moment of silence, and you felt that he was standing much too far away from you. There was a lump in your throat, too hard and too much to explain yourself.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, cautiously taking a step towards you.

"Yeah," you wiped another tear from your cheek, smiling, "yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? Cause, you know, you're crying."

Silence again.

Steve sighed, "Do you wanna sit?"

"Um... sure." Your voice cracked.

You both sat down on the loveseat in the living room. You crossed your legs, fumbling with the rings on your fingers and avoiding eye contact with him. He held his hands together.

"I'm sorry for running out," you spoke up, "is everything okay back at the party?"

"Oh, don't be sorry, sweetheart," Steve assured you, "the party is ending now. Mostly everyone is gone."

"Oh, okay. I hope it was a good one."

"It was great, you always make it great," he smiled, resting a hand on your knee, making you feel a little nervous, "but can I ask... why are you crying?"

You attempted to laugh, brush your pain away like it never existed in the first place.

"Honestly, I just felt overwhelmed, and probably had too much to drink."

"Yeah, probably," he agreed, "but... there's something else, too."

You shook your head slightly, tears stinging your eyes again, not responding.

"Was it because of that girl I was dancing with?"

You finally glanced over to him.

"No." You replied in a small, fragile voice.

Steve sighed, leaning forward and gave your knee a squeeze.

"Well... I won't bother you. Maybe you can talk to me about it tomorrow. For now," he stood up, putting his hands on his hips, "why don't you eat something, drink some water, and get some sleep, okay?"

You nodded, still sitting down, "Okay. I'm so sorry, Steve."

He didn't speak for a moment, only peering down at you with an empathetic look, before slowly leaning over and holding your face gently with his hands, pausing as his face hovered yours, and placing a small kiss to your forehead.

"You've done nothing wrong. There's nothing for you to worry about," Steve whispered against your skin, making you look at him in his eyes, "okay?"

You gave him a sad, half smile, still feeling guilty despite his words, "Okay."

He stood back up, and walked slowly to the front door, turning the knob and opening it.

"Good night."

"Good night, Steve."

The next day, your alarm woke you, not having dreamt at all. Your eyes burned from crying, and your lips were chapped from heavy breathing. You turned off the alarm and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, remembering everything that had occurred the night before. The party. Steve's toast. The woman. Running away. Crying. Talking to Steve. His hand on your knee. His words of reassurance. His kiss on your forehead.

You tried to put the puzzle pieces together in your mind.

Shouldn't he be mad at me? He's my boss. He's given me everything, just for me to throw a drunken hissy fit. He should have fired me. Or at least been upset with me. Is he upset with me? No, he said he wasn't. Wait, does he have feelings for me, too? No he doesn't. There's no way. Is there?

You begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked towards the same mirror you had the night before, looking at the disheveled, emotional wreck in front of you.

Nope. No way.

You went on to do your usual morning routine of coffee, showering and getting ready, thankful that you didn't have a hangover, when there was a sudden knock on your front door.

What the fuck?

You opened it hesitantly to find no one standing there, but a beautifully wrapped gift bag was on the ground, with a note attached to it.

You looked around outside, and grabbed the bag, bringing it inside and shutting the door. You took it to your bedroom and sat the gift on the bed, and opened the note that had your name on it.

I felt like I needed you to know that you're my closest friend above anything else. Take the day off, on me, okay? And please accept the gift I got for you, and don't say no, like you usually do. Consider it an early Christmas gift. Please put it on and meet me in my bedroom upstairs for a movie night at 8. See you then.

-Harrington (call me Steve)

You couldn't help but bite your lip and smile, your stomach fluttering and feeling excited, grateful for his generosity and patience with you.

You placed the note to the side and dug into the gift bag, and audibly gasped and nearly sobbed at the sight of what you pulled out.

It wasn't Calvin Klein, or Ralph Lauren. It wasn't a designer dress, or expensive high heels.

It was cheesy Christmas pajamas, and a pair of fuzzy slippers. Complete with a reindeer and snowflake design, and it was cheap, from JC Penny's.

You could've died happy right then and there, to receive such a humble and thoughtful gift from Steve. The old Steve, the Steve he still was, the one you'd always kept close to your heart for years.

You chose not to go out and treat yourself that day like he'd offered, instead, staying in your home, relaxing with some good books and watching TV. You tried to take a nap, but you were too overjoyed, too overwhelmed in all the right ways to even think about falling asleep as you watched the clock tick by, minute by minute.

At 7:50, you put on your pajamas and slippers, looking into the mirror, this time, with a much more optimistic look on your face. You decided not to opt for makeup, as tonight was movie night- a night of friendship, a night of Steve, a night that had occurred many times before during a summer years ago.

You exited your house and walked towards the backdoor of Steve's, nearly skipping with joy, and let yourself in.

You were surprised to not see any of his other staff around the house as you walked up the staircase, thinking he must have given them the night off.

You tiptoed down the long, dark hallway filled with glee, and saw a dim light coming from Steve's bedroom.

You approached the open door and gave it a little knock, making him turn around.

"Oops, seems as if there's been a wardrobe malfunction."

He was wearing the same fucking pajamas as you.

"Steve!" You laughed, eyeing him up and down as you walked in.

He lifted his arms up in the air and smiled.

"You like?" He motioned at his outfit, and bolted towards you, lifting you up and making you squeal.

"That's what I like to hear," he sighed with relief as he put you back down, "it's good to see you smile."

"Steve, you're such a dork." You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.

"The most handsome dork you've ever seen," he teased, "so, what do you wanna watch? I've got everything set up."

He motioned towards the wooden table on the bed. On it was a bottle of white wine accompanied with two glasses, a big bowl of popcorn, and an assortment of candy.

"I grabbed the cheapest bottle of wine I could find, I promise," he chuckled, running his hands through his hair, "tonight is gonna be like old times. Gotta remind you that I'm still a humble guy."

"I never doubted you were." You beamed at him.

Steve's cheeks turned red, and his body language went a little shy.

"So, I know I asked you what you wanna watch, but I picked up your favorite you told me, Heathers-"

"Yes!" You exclaimed, "yes, I love that movie!"

He smiled, "I know you do. Now... let's get comfy."

There was definitely something in the air, and it was heavy, as the two of you watched Winona Ryder act on screen, eating popcorn, laughing, finishing a glass of wine, and bodies increasingly getting closer and closer together throughout the movie.

You both lay back in his bed, eyes glued to the TV under soft blankets, when Steve reached his arm out behind you, and commanded a soft "C'mere."

You glanced at him, wide-eyed, as adrenaline raced through your body at his request, and you hesitantly scooted towards him a bit. You leaned down your head down gently to rest on his shoulder, but you were still much too far away from him.

Steve pulled you closer to his body, and hooked his other arm under your knees, curling your legs on his lap. You lightly gasped and chuckled nervously at the action, but he just let out a hum of contentment.

You reached an arm across him to hold his side, and nuzzled further into his warm chest. He placed a gentle kiss to your hair, and rested his face on your head, holding you closely to him with both of his arms.

Suddenly, it was really hard to pay attention to the movie. Suddenly, you almost forgot how to breathe. Suddenly, you were so close to Steve, but somehow still too far away. Suddenly, the world paused around you as you felt his soft heartbeat against his chest. Suddenly, nearly all your nerves ceased to exist. Suddenly, Steve felt like home.

Steve was home.

The ending credits started to play on the TV screen. You had the nagging urge that you should let go of him, that movie night was over, but you didn't want to move, didn't want to let him ago, wanted this feeling and this warmth to last forever.

He sat up for a moment, and your heart dropped at the loss of his closeness as he grabbed the table from the bed and placed it on the ground.

You pulled away from him, preparing to say goodnight and go back to your own home, when Steve asked, "Where are you going?"

You glanced over to him, lips parted, but didn't respond, didn't know how to.

"Stay."

He took his shirt off, staring at you with soft eyes, and laid back down onto his bed slowly, patting the sheets, motioning for you to join him.

You eagerly did, as you crawled back onto his mattress, laying down next to him. He pulled the blankets over the two of you and pulled you in closer to him with strong arms until your faces were mere inches apart, nearly nose to nose, heads resting on soft pillows.

Steve ran his fingers up and down your back delicately, gazing into your eyes, you gazing back into his own, the only light in the bedroom now coming from the moon through the windows, enough to study the details of each other's faces in comfortable silence.

You traced your fingers along his back, breathing in his intoxicating scent, as he tucked your hair behind your ear and whispered to you, feeling his warm breath on your lips.

"You look so beautiful like this."

"Steve..."

No more words needed to be spoken, as the moment the two of you existed in gave you all the answers you ever needed.

He held the back of your head, and with a shaky breath, pressed his mouth against yours gently. His lips felt like silk as you quickly kissed him back, cradling the side of his face with your hand.

He broke the long, drawn out kiss, opening his eyes slowly to stare into your own, as if to make sure it was okay, before doing it again, his fingers splayed messy along your cheek.

You hummed against his mouth, roaming your hand from his chest, up the soft skin of his shoulder, to the nape of his neck, the both of you kissing between heavy sighs, resting your foreheads against the other.

Steve sat up a bit, grasping your face and pulling it to his, kissing you a little harder, a little faster each time, soft inhales between them, and he pulled at your bottom lip, impatient, hungry, asking for more.

You gave into him immediately, eagerly, deepening the kiss and raking your fingers through his soft hair, pulling him into you as tongues collided, desperate but languid.

You whined into him and Steve swallowed the sound, driving him mad and making his breath shudder, licking across your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, letting it go with a pop.

You lightly gasped and grasped at the skin of his back, hands heavy all over each other as he tugged you even closer to him, pressing gentle but eager kisses along your jawline. You threw your head back to give him access, and he leaned his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. His hands roamed up your abdomen but stopped, and you quickly leaned back and pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him with needy eyes.

Steve groaned, whispering swears as you gave him permission to explore you, cupping your breasts and smoothing his fingers over your nipples as he continued to kiss and suck down your chest, which only made your body fill with heat, needing more.

You sat up and pushed yourself up against him, your lips finding his easily as you wandered your hands down his chest to the waistline of his pants, giving it a small tug.

He hissed against your mouth and broke the kiss, whispering, "Are you sure?"

"Please," you pleaded softly, "want you."

"Fuck," he let out a breathy laugh, "you're gonna kill me, baby."

You kissed along his collarbone, roaming your hands down again, and sighed as you felt his hard length against his leg, lightly stroking it.

Steve groaned at your touch, and frantically pulled his pajamas and boxers down his legs, throwing them to the side and freeing himself. He leaned down towards you again, making you lay flat against the bed, kisses sloppy and needy as he hovered over you, his hand smoothing from your breasts, down your stomach to tug at your own pants.

"Take 'em off." You whined on his lips.

He snaked his fingers in your waistline, and pulled your panties and pajamas down your legs swiftly, tossing them somewhere in the room.

He leaned back from you, lips parted, as he took in the sight of you, cheeks flushed.

"So pretty."

You bit your lip and reached for him, desperate to feel his closeness, but Steve had other ideas.

He smoothed his calloused hands up and down your thighs, before spreading them open, murmuring helplessly to himself as he leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your stomach, trailing his mouth down until he was above your heat, making you quiver underneath him.

He slowly traced his fingers down your lower stomach to the apex of your thighs, gently swiping them between your folds, cursing to himself at how wet you were.

You moaned, voice wrecked, arching into Steve's hand, giving yourself to him, a sign of permission.

He lifted a leg up over his shoulder and slowly slipped a finger inside of you, a second joining quickly, hooking inside of you.

You gasped loudly, and he leaned over and pressed his lips back to yours, an attempt to calm your reaction, to soothe you, as he thumbed at your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping and pulling at his hair, and he hissed at the action, and you took note of how much he liked it.

Steve pressed one more gentle kiss to your swollen lips, before descending down your body, kissing your heat and removing his thumb, replacing it with his tongue as he swirled it around your clit heavy, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it greedily.

You grinded against his face, coming undone and moaning a mixture of his name and expletives as your orgasm took a hold of you quickly, Steve humming against your heat, working you through your high until you were a panting mess.

He pulled his fingers out of you, sitting up slowly and placing them in his mouth, sucking on them and groaning at the taste of you.

"Good girl," he praised you through whispers, kneading his thumbs into the plush of your thighs, "you did so good."

You huffed, sitting up, your legs trembling and took his hard length into your hand, stroking it and kissing him desperately.

His breath stuttered against your lips as your grip tightened around him, hissing as Steve grabbed your wrist to stop you.

"Sweetheart," his voice was strained, husky, "if you do that, I'm not gonna last long."

His palms smoothed up and down your sides, then groped your breasts, making your breath hitch.

"Me neither," your voice thick with emotion, "need you."

"Sh, okay, I got you baby girl."

Steve laid you back down on the bed gingerly, and just as you thought he was going to hover over you, he laid down next to you, pulling you close to him, face to face, and lifted your leg to rest on his hip.

"Need you close. Okay?" He looked in your eyes, glazed over with lust.

You nodded, breath shaky, cradling his jaw with your hand as you felt his bare length press against your wet heat, squirming for friction. He snaked his arms under yours to hold you tight, his left hand on your lower back, his right grasping your ass.

He shifted his hips to align himself with your entrance, sucked in a sharp inhale, and pushed himself inside of you.

You both gasped loudly at the feeling, clutching at each other desperately, and Steve kissed you, swallowing your moans as he continued to inch inside of you, pushing in and out of you slowly until your walls took him in fully, his cock disappearing inside you completely.

Your bodies were flushed, skin warm as you felt him stretch you out every place you needed so badly, massaging your inner walls, the both of you in a state of utter bliss, euphoria and love, your lips kissing lazy and sloppy against each other, your slick making it easy for him to rock into you at a pace that wasn't too slow, wasn't too fast, but was amazingly deep and romantic.

You whimpered into his mouth as Steve continued to fuck into you, making him snap his hips into your spongy spot abruptly, and the both of you cursed, moaning each other's names, your voices stuttering, and your tongues gliding over each other messy.

Steve wasn't going to last long, you could tell by the way he bit back his moans, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his hips jerking as you felt his length grow even harder inside of you.

Thankfully, you were on the edge too- heat beginning to pool in your lower back, your muscles tightening, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he continued to hit that delicious spot inside of you, the friction of his trail of body hair rubbing against your clit with each thrust, making you lose composure.

You raked your hands through his soft, mussed hair and tugged, earning a moan from him as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck, and Steve smiled against your skin when your walls tightened around him, getting the hint.

"You gonna cum?" He panted through thrusts, his voice gravelly.

"Yes- oh, fuck Steve-"

"Me- jesus christ- me too," he rasped, "cum with me, please, you look so pretty-"

His words were enough to send you over the edge as the world crashed around you, tears prodding at your eyes as your gut tightened and shockwaves gripped every inch of your skin, your orgasm bursting within you.

Steve felt you tighten and pulse around him as he rocked into you through your high, kissing you feverishly along your cheek and neck. The sound of your voice when you cried out his name made him bite down on your shoulder.

His hips stuttered and with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, his vision blurred as he spilled himself deep inside of you, groaning against your mouth as you kissed him sweetly until his movements stilled.

You slumped into each other, your limbs liquid, as the both of you tried to catch your breath. Steve pressed his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and heavy, skin warm and sticky, feeling lightheaded, and you both let out a breathy laugh of relief, a content sigh, as if this is what the two of you should have been doing all along.

You both held each other this way for a while, in comfortable silence, enjoying the closeness of each other's presence, the warmth and coziness of one another's bodies, hands smoothing over hair and skin, lips kissing the other's softly until you both finally caught your breath.

Steve eventually slid himself out of you with an exhale, and you shuddered at the loss. He pulled you in tightly to him, cradling you, limbs entangled and he rubbed circles into your cheek.

"Can I talk first?" He asked in a hushed voice.

You nodded, pursing your lips.

"I trust you. I know you. And I don't want anyone but you."

You beamed at him, tears glossing over your eyes, your heart blooming.

"I love you."

You lightly gasped at his confession, and he waited patiently for your response.

You kissed him, long and drawn out before speaking.

"I love you, Steve."

"Really?"

You nodded eagerly, "Really."

"Good." Another sigh of relief.

"So," you traced your fingers along his back, "What happens now?"

Steve chuckled, "Now? Now, you're mine," he cradled the side of your face, "you don't work for me. You're my girl. You're mine."

You smiled, and you could've died happy right then and there.

"And I want to give you everything."

Spicier Part 2 here

1K notes · View notes

kurtie4life96 · 1 year

Text

Song request: im afraid to go to heaven with Eddie but make it sexy PLEASE

I'm Afraid I'll Go To Heaven

E.M. × F! Reader

Summary: Eddie is sick and tired of being called a "Satanist". Maybe his best girl friend can help him relieve that frustration.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, dom!Eddie, sub!reader, graphic, rough sex, unprotected sex, a bit of ritualistic sex, choking, BLOOD play, KNIFE play, exhibitionism, spitting, handcuffs, masochism/sadism, oral (f receiving), anti-christianity, Christian protesters, smoking

THIS IS VERY ANTI RELIGIOUS/CHRISTIANITY. DO NOT READ IF THAT'S OFFENSIVE TO YOU. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

"Here we go again." Eddie mumbled through gritted teeth.

You sat in the passenger seat of his van as he turned into the trailer park, a swarm of angry protesters with picket signs shouting at the two of you, scattered across the front of his house.

"The cops won't do anything?" You asked, sighing out of frustration.

He laughed, motioning towards the protesters, "Nope. Why should they, anyway? I am part of the satanic panic, after all."

After the events of the Upside Down and Eddie almost dying, he was nearly charged for the murders that Vecna had committed. Miraculously, Hopper had managed to clear his name, placing the blame on Jason, as he was there when Patrick died, mercilessly bullied Fred, and his girlfriend was Chrissy. Plus, Jason was now dead. It was all too easy.

But the people of Hawkins still weren't convinced, still called Eddie a murderer, a Satanist, a devil worshipper.

They protested at Hawkins High, his graduation, even going as far to protest outside of his house.

The crowd slowly started to dissipate after a few months, but they were still relentless, calling him a sinner, a murderer, telling him he was going to burn in hell, to repent.

You had tried to protect your friend from these people. You'd screamed at them, threw trash at them, stuck by his side.

But Eddie was still miserable. And they were never going to stop.

Eddie pulled up in front of his trailer, parking and turning his van off. People began to surround it immediately, yelling at him, perhaps the both of you, holding up picket signs with some of the most vile words on them you'd ever seen.

He ran his hands through his hair, agitated, and punched the steering wheel suddenly, cursing to himself.

You reached your hand out to gently hold his, an attempt to calm him down, "We just have to ignore them and go inside."

Eddie snatched his hand away from yours, hurting your feelings a little, but you understood his anger, not taking it too personally.

"I'm sick of just ignoring them!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed, "I know that's what Hopper said to do, but I can't do it anymore, I just- I can't do it!"

He opened the car door and you quickly followed, rushing towards him as he confronted one of the middle-aged, bearded protesters, getting in the man's face.

"You need to repent, young man," he started, "if you want to live forever, be with loved ones in Heaven, you must confess-"

"I don't wanna live forever!" Eddie shouted, taking an even closer step towards him, making the man stumble back a bit.

"You're going to burn in hell-"

"Then so be it!" Eddie smiled maniacally, throwing his hands up in the air, turning around to face the crowd, "I don't want to go to Heaven, I'm afraid to go to Heaven!"

You looked to the crowd, worried, as they began to argue with him, but Eddie cut them off quickly.

"I'm not afraid of a so-called Devil, or- Satan, I'm afraid of being around people like you forever!" He paused to laugh again, screaming, "It's like me- people like me, are your only entertainment in this shitty town now!"

Eddie snatched a picket fence from a nearby protester, smashing it on the gravel, and throwing the broken wooden stick on the ground with an audible, frustrated groan.

The people went nearly silent for a moment, only quietly murmuring amongst themselves as your heart beat rapidly, waiting for Eddie's monologue to end.

"Whatever is waiting for me on the other side, I'm sure it's better than being around you Bible fucking, no spined, fiction loving fucking sheep!"

He was panting heavily now, turning red from rage as the silence continued. You grabbed his arm, giving it a gentle tug.

"C'mon Eddie, let's go inside now." You urged him with a soft, quiet voice.

"Yeah," he announced loudly, still glaring at the crowd, "let's go inside."

You both began to walk up the steps to the front door, Eddie turning towards them again for a moment to throw up his infamous devil horns, before flipping them off.

You walked in first, him slamming the front door behind him.

"You okay?" You turned to him, an empathetic, yet worried look on your face.

"Yeah," he let out a breathy chuckle, "yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving him a half smile, "Yeah."

Eddie sat down on the couch, sinking into it with a big sigh, fumbling with his rings, chewing on his lip as he stared off into space for a moment.

Little did he know how much your nerves were on fire, from the adrenaline and excitement you felt watching him get angry, snapping at the crowd and losing it a bit.

Watching him yell at the protesters, smash that sign, the way he stood up for himself, put those awful people in their place, it had butterflies filling your stomach, it made your face feel a little too hot. It didn't help that he was in a bad mood, that he was twirling his metal rings on his fingers.

Sure, you'd had a bit of a crush on Eddie of course, especially after his bravery fighting the demo bats, but you hadn't acted on your feelings. It wasn't the right time. He was going through too much, and the two of you had been close friends for years.

Eddie must have noticed you staring off into space too- or more so, staring at his hands, because he had said your name three times before he got your attention.

You perked up, coming back to reality and grinned awkwardly at him, playing with your hair anxiously.

"Sorry, what?"

He looked at you questioningly, like he was trying to read you, one of his hands gesturing towards the seat next to him, "I said, come sit."

"Oh, yeah, of course," you walked over towards the couch, sitting down next to him, feeling unable to relax.

"Smoke?" Eddie held up two cigarettes and a lighter, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, sure, thanks." You grabbed one from his fingers, staring at them a little too long again.

You put it between your lips, patting your pockets to look for your own lighter.

"Uh-uh," Eddie scolded you, putting his own cigarette between his lips, lighting yours and then his own, taking a long drag, "pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes."

You took a drag and smiled ear to ear, scooting closer to him until your thigh was touching his, shoving his shoulder playfully, "I've heard that one a few times now, Munson."

"Don't act like you don't like hearing it, though." He chuckled, then stopped, his smile fading away as he heard the faint voices from the protesters still outside.

"Fuckers," he spat, taking another long drag, "they're never going to leave me alone. They'll never leave you or Wayne alone, either. Not til' we leave the damn country or some shit."

"Yeah, probably not." You responded quietly, pursing your lips together, staring at your cigarette.

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments, deep in thought, watching the smoke circle around in the sunlight coming in through the blinds.

"What if there was another way?" You glanced over at him, asking nervously.

"What do you mean?" Eddie gave you a perplexed look.

"What if," you sighed, putting out your cigarette, your heart beginning to beat hard against your chest, "What if there was just... another way?"

"I'm not gonna 'repent for my sins', if that's what you're saying-"

"No, no," you shook your head, "fuck that, hell no. I mean... what if we scared them? Like... enough to make them go away? Leave you alone?"

"How?" Eddie scoffed, taking another puff of his cigarette before reaching his hand towards the ashtray to put it out.

"Hold on," you grabbed his arm abruptly, stopping him, your breathing shaky.

"What're you..." He trailed off, shifting in his seat.

You grasped his hand, keeping eye contact with him, as you slowly moved it towards the back of your forearm.

Eddie screwed his eyebrows together, in disbelief, as your forced his fingers on your forearm, putting his cigarette out on your skin.

You gasped in pain and hissed, your skin seering, before Eddie yanked his arm back, throwing it into the ashtray and grabbing your arm, inspecting the burn.

"What the fuck? Why would you do that? Are you okay? Jesus Christ, why? Why did you do that-"

"Eddie," you said his name softly, like a prayer, "Eddie... if it's okay, we should scare them."

He paused for a moment, still holding your arm, before responding, "What are you proposing?"

"I'm proposing," you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes, "we could make a mess. A mess that'll scare them for life."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at you, looking intrigued, pressing the pad of his thumb into your skin.

"What kind of mess?"

"Eddie, I like you. I know it's not the best time to tell you that, but you don't have to like me back," you continued to ramble, "I know the things you like to do when you're... having fun. You've told me. And I like the same things too, sometimes."

Eddie stared at you intently, leaning closer towards you, motioning for you to continue, "Go on, I'm listening."

You sighed, "You could use me, if you want, we could make a big scene, you know, scare them off, but only if you want to, you can say no-"

He interrupted you by grabbing both sides of your face, his rings cold against your skin as he crashed his lips onto yours, leaning into you as much as he could. Your body froze for a second, in shock, but you quickly kissed him back, resting your hands on his shoulders and humming contently.

"Oh, sweetheart, my pretty angel," Eddie broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips grazing your own as he spoke softly, "I thought you'd never ask."

"Really?" You pulled back and looked into his dark eyes.

"Really." His lips curled in a smile, then slowly faded as he asked, "Are you sure that's what you want? Because- I could really hurt you."

You nodded eagerly, "Yes, yeah, it's what I want. It's what I want with you."

"Okay," Eddie sighed, sitting upright as he looked down at you, "but if it gets to be too much, tell me. There's... a lot of weird things I'd want to do with you."

You sat on your knees, gazing up at him, almost as if you were worshipping him. His beautiful brown eyes, his long, frizzy dark hair framing his face just right, his clothes, his plump lips making you feel intoxicated.

"Eddie," you assured him softly, reaching a hand towards his hair, brushing it with your fingers, "nothing is gonna be too much. I like weird. And with these insane assholes outside," you looked towards the window, "how about we make it fun? Like you said... we're just entertainment. Let's put on a show."

He stared down at you, breathless, his heart racing, feeling absolutely feral- a mixture of his anger, excitement, and the sight of you fully giving yourself to him.

Eddie looked over to the window above you that faced the front yard, the crowd still there shouting, and he opened the blinds, staring outside with a sinister smile.

There was a moment of quiet between the two of you, the air thick with tension and anticipation, as you gazed at each other with locked eyes, before Eddie crashed his lips against yours again, much harder this time as he grabbed your hair to yank your head back, his other hand gently cradling the side of your neck.

You moaned into each other's mouths lightly, the kisses increasingly becoming faster, animalistic, carnal, not being able to get enough of each other. You both panted heavily between kisses as you smoothed your hands down his sides, then sliding them under his shirt to feel his scars and soft skin.

Eddie slid his tongue across your bottom lip languid, feeling like silk, the taste of him silencing all of your thoughts as you licked into each other's mouths feverishly, deeply, him tasting sweet like cherry coke- before he bit down on it, hard.

Normally this action would make someone gasp, yelp, cry even- but not you. You sighed contently as Eddie sucked on your bleeding lip, then sat upright again to look down on you, as if he was a God.

"Open." He commanded in a low voice.

You did as you were told, knowing what was coming next. He spat your blood back into your mouth, the taste of iron flooding your senses. You swallowed, licking your injured lip before he could tell you to do so.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned, "you are fucking unreal."

He stood up from the couch suddenly, and before you could question him, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up, setting you down harshly on the top of the couch, your back facing the window.

"I can't wait to put bruises all over this pretty skin." He rasped.

He lifted your shirt up eagerly, pulling it off of you and tossing it to the side.

"No bra, huh?" He smirked.

Before you could respond, Eddie went straight for your jawline, at first kissing it sloppily, then getting greedy, sucking and biting on your skin brutally, as he palmed your breasts, groping them and pinching your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him, his hair tickling your shoulder.

He made his descent down your neck and chest, sucking your delicate skin so harshly it began to bleed as you huffed and raked your fingers through his hair and tugged, wrapping your legs around him, silently asking him for more.

He licked down slowly between your breasts, keeping eye contact with you, then took one into his mouth, kissing and swirling around his tongue.

"Eddie, please," you whimpered, still tasting iron, "more..."

"More what, pretty girl?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Just... more," you whined, "just- I want you!"

"Fuck," he moaned lowly.

He pulled down your pants and panties off your hips and legs frantically, but swiftly, throwing them to the side with your shirt.

Eddie stood back for a moment, admiring your now nearly naked body with hungry eyes- the only garment still on you being your slouch socks, your bare ass pressed up to the window, as you gazed at his lithe figure.

"Open your legs." He gently demanded.

You did as you were told, and he breathed out a shaky exhale as he gazed at your heat.

He looked up towards your face again, your bleeding bruises, your bloodied lip with hooded, unholy eyes.

You grasped the back of the couch with both hands, leaning your head back, and let out a desperate sigh.

"Eddie-"

He kneeled on the couch quickly, spreading your thighs apart, then sliding two fingers along your soaked lips, and began to move his tongue along your clit messy and rapidly, lapping at your heat with a heavy tongue that somehow felt like velvet.

You cried out a mixture of his name and expletives as euphoria gripped your body, arching into his mouth and your muscles tightening.

"Eddie," you cried, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-"

He slipped two fingers into you easily, curling them harshly, you feeling his rings at your entrance.

You gasped at the action, raking your hands through his hair, and you felt him smirk against your wet heat as he began to snake his other hand up your bare chest.

You needed more of him, so much more, and you grabbed his wrist, beginning to guide it towards your neck.

Eddie instantly got the hint, and wrapped his big hand around your throat, pressing his fingers into the sides of your neck.

You groaned in pleasure as blood ceased to travel to your brain, ecstacy taking over every inch of your body as your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he continued to savor you relentlessly.

"Harder," you managed to choke out, "please, harder-"

He moaned against you at your request and squeezed harder, making you see stars.

Your skin was on fire as you began to lose composure, and the world crashed around you, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt hitting its peak as you tried to moan, but your voice was strained.

Eddie continued to work you through your high, then kissed your sensitive nub, making you twitch before pulling back, his mouth slightly agape and wet with your slick as the both of you panted. He licked his lips and leaned towards you, kissing you gingerly as you tasted yourself on your tongue, then he promptly bit your lip again, reopening your wound.

"You look so hot when you're bleeding," he huffed against your mouth.

You gripped his shirt with one hand, then reached towards his hard, aching length with the other, making him groan.

"Eddie," you mumbled, "please, take them off, let me-"

"Next time, baby," he assured you, "next time. The sun is gonna go down. We need to hurry."

Your stomach fluttered at his words, 'next time', as you watched him take off his jacket and shirt swiftly, then pulling down his pants and checkered boxers, letting his cock free.

You stared at his length with wide eyes. You knew he would be a little big, but he was larger than you'd imagined. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight. You then watched him lean down to pull something out of his jean pockets.

Eddie stood up, holding up his switchblade, the sharp tip of it shining as he gazed at you intently.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Yes," you whispered.

"Give me your hand."

You reached your arm out to him, excitement and nervousness bursting in your abdomen.

"This is gonna hurt, okay?"

You softly smiled and nodded, "Okay."

He grabbed your wrist, pressing the blade into your palm and quickly slashing a line into it, blood beginning to pool in your hand immediately. You winced at the pain, but gave him a hum of agreement.

Nodding at you, Eddie took to his own hand, slicing it the same way he did to yours, blood dripping through his fingers.

He threw the knife to the side before intertwining his fingers with yours, pressing your bleeding wounds together, then grabbed the back of your head, leaning in to kiss you passionately.

He pulled back, and took to your chest, smearing the mixture of each others blood all over your neck and breasts, his eyes seemingly turned black.

You whimpered at the sight, but were pleasantly surprised by how much it turned you on, rubbing your thighs together for some friction as your core ached.

"Turn around." Eddie instructed you, grasping your thigh, motioning for you to turn over.

With a sharp inhale and exhale, you turned around, knees on the seats of the couch, hands grabbing the back of couch, as you looked out the window, the crowd of people still outside now looking back at you in horror.

You smirked at them maliciously, wiping your face, smearing it with more blood to terrify them even more.

Eddie groaned at the action and kissed your lower back, squeezing your ass, taking his length into his hand.

"You're the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm gonna ruin you."

"Do it, Eddie," you whispered.

He lined his tip with your entrance, then gripped your hips harshly, slamming all the way into you with ease, bottoming out.

You both gasped loudly in unison, his cock stretching you out in a way that could only be described as perfect.

"You're so tight, fuck, you're gonna kill me baby." He groaned.

Eddie began to set a slow, but harsh pace, pounding into you deeply as you pushed back against his thrusts. It felt so much like Heaven, that you nearly forgot what you needed to do.

As he continued to snap his hips into yours harshly, you squeezed your wounded hand, collecting more blood in your palm, and dripped it onto the window, smearing it between his thrusts until you were satisfied that it was covered.

He began to fuck into you faster, hitting your cervix every time, as you began your work on the window, drawing a sloppy, inverted pentagram with your fingertips through the blood, the both of you cursing and moaning each other's names.

The crowd outside was horrified at the sight of your bloodied chest, the bloodied window, and the symbol you drew, making them leave the property rapidly in terror, like a bat out of hell.

You arched your back even more, goosebumps spreading across your skin as you both moaned, Eddie still fucking into you, raking his fingernails on your back, leaving behind a pattern of scratches.

Once you'd noticed that the voices outside had disappeared, you wiped your uninjured hand on the fogged, bloody glass, peering out the window.

"Eddie, fuck," you stammered between his thrusts, "it worked- they- they left. They all left."

He let out a breathy laugh, slowing down his pace, smoothing his hands up and down your back, "Oh, angel. You're so smart. Such a good girl."

You chuckled a bit through pants, reaching your arms back towards him to touch him, to hold his hands for a moment.

Eddie suddenly pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss, confused.

"What are you-"

Before you could question him, he grabbed your waist, lifting you up off the couch and making you yelp, throwing your naked body over his shoulder and quickly heading to his bedroom.

"Eddie," you laughed nervously, "what's happening?"

"Sh," he shushed you, placing a kiss to your side, then throwing you on your back onto his bed of messy sheets and blankets, gasping as your body hit the mattress.

You gazed up at him in anticipation, as he held his infamous handcuffs in one hand.

"Do you still want me?" He asked in a husky voice.

"Yeah, of course I do-"

"Good," He interrupted you and smiled wickedly, "arms above your head."

You bit the side of your lip and grinned, doing as you were told.

He got on the bed and crawled over you, placing the handcuffs over your wrists, clicking them in place, making sure they were tight, then kissed your injured lips softly.

Eddie leaned back, spreading your legs open for him gently, his length still rock hard.

"You're cumming like this."

You shivered at his words, and he gripped your hips, yanking them up towards his cock, and pushed himself inside of you.

"Fuck, Eddie,"

"Jesus, you're still so fucking wet," he cursed.

He began to thrust into you again, at first slow, but quickly becoming desperate, pounding into you with a harsh and fast rhythm, gripping your hips tighter and tighter, surely leaving bruises.

You felt fire in your abdomen as he continued to fuck into you, him biting and kissing your knee sloppily as the new angle of his cock hit your sweet spot every time.

"Eddie, I don't think I can last long, fuck-"

"Me too, sweetheart," he groaned, putting a hand between the two of you, circling your clit with his thumb as he watched himself disappear inside of you, "cum with me."

You felt his cock grow even harder against your walls, making your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head, tears burning at the corners as you almost sobbed, crying out expletives as your orgasm took a hold of you, shockwaves gripping your body.

Eddie felt your walls clench around him, making him come undone as he emptied himself deep inside of you, biting your knee to hold back a loud moan as he followed closely after you.

Your highs came to a halt, as he gently lowered you back down, and collapsed on top of you.

You both panted heavily against each other, trying to catch your breath as he finally slid out of you. He held the sides of your face and kissed you desperately, then planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

"So, uh, that was..." Eddie trailed off.

"Amazing. It was amazing." You finished his sentence breathlessly.

"Yeah?" He lifted his head up and smiled at you.

"Yeah," you smiled back, "we should... do this again... soon."

"Yes, we should," he kissed your forehead, "we really should. Gotta take you on a proper date first."

He sat up from the bed, and you whined at the loss of his body heat.

"Well angel," he started, "we need to clean up all the blood and stuff, ya know, and fix our hands before Wayne gets home."

"Yeah, we do, but Eddie," you showed him your hands, "you gotta get me out of these cuffs first."

"Oh yeah, yeah, duh," he laughed, "the cuffs. Of course. Just need to... find the keys." He began to look around his room worriedly.

"God dammit, Eddie."

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