#Steve harrington x you
Text
sweet girl
Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: You and Steve are held captive in a bunker under Starcourt, forced to admit secrets and expose yourselves to one another to stay alive.
WC: 6k+
CW/Tags: enemies to lovers, fuck or die trope, dub/non-con (depends on how u view it), language, pet names, somno, toys, oral (f receiving), PiV (unprotected) rough sex, brief anal play, dacryphilia, spit play, cum play, degradation, humiliation, etc.
A/N: okay. fair warning. this is probably one of the dumbest things i wrote back in the height of covid’s initial quarantine (because being stuck inside for too long did a number on us all) but it exists, and i got tired of seeing it in my drafts, so hopefully some of y’all like it too lmao
Steve can’t remember how he got here.
There’s an ache, constant but distant, stretched across the features of his face, spreading across his torso and fading into the rest of his body, but he can barely feel it. Only if he focuses hard enough.
Right now, Steve would rather focus on you, instead.
You, gliding your wet core against his thigh as he tenses up his muscles every now and then, smirking at the whines you squeak out when he does. You, gripping onto Steve’s shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his skin while he just sits back and watches. You, practically glowing from the sheen of sweat across your features, sealing in the blush that’s crept across your cheeks long ago.
Steve’s definitely more interested in you right now.
His eyes rake over your body as your breasts bounce while grinding against his thigh. He drinks in the way your lips part and eyes roll back while the slick from your cunt drips down his leg.
All Steve wants right now is to touch you, but he can’t. His arms are stuck to his sides and he can’t figure out why. He wants to run his hands across your soft skin, wants to play with your tits and suck on them, wants to make you moan more and more with every teasing move… and he can’t.
A flash of the ache, sharper, closer now, blurs his vision. He winces, trying to focus back on you, back on how good you look coming undone on his thigh, but again, he can’t.
A sob ripples through you, breaking the string of moans, and Steve’s brows furrow at the noise. He goes to speak, to ask if you’re alright, but his mouth won’t open. It feels too… too heavy to open. A wave of fatigue washes over him, slowly making the rest of his body feel heavy, too.
Slowly, your whimpers transform from ones of need to ones of despair. The slight change in tone alarms Steve, and the vision of you in front of him begins to fade in and out.
He tries moving his arms, but they don’t budge. He attempts speaking again, and still, his mouth won’t open, but a closed mouth groan erupts from his chest the harder he tries.
The harder he tries, though, the more intense the pain grows for Steve. It spreads like lightning within his head, nearly blinding him.
Another sob slips past your lips, but this one teeters on the line of sounding desperate for help, or desperate for… something else.
“Steve…”
Voice still stuck in his throat, he tries his hardest still to say something, anything. A raspy groan finally pushes past his lips.
“Steve? God, I’m—“ You whimper, catching Steve’s attention as his vision continues to blur and fade out, his surroundings growing dark. “— I’m so sorry.”
The pain envelops him now, gripping Steve in a grim reminder of the reality he faced earlier, all rushing back to him so quickly.
The secret Russian base under Starcourt. Getting separated from the group as you and Steve held off the guards from chasing your friends. The guards locking you and Steve away in separate rooms. The… the screams that echoed down the hall from your room to his, and the way he threatened the guards in front of him that if they ever laid a finger on you, they’d be dead.
They responded with a couple of sucker punches, one good hook to the eye, along with roughing up the rest of Steve. That’s all he could remember before it all grew dark.
When Steve woke up, it seemed too good to be true. You’d never fuck around with him beyond his dreams. No, the two of you hated each other in reality. The summer was spent trying not to kill each other while working in the same mall. Empty threats and death glares were common whenever the two of you crossed paths.
What you didn’t know was how much Steve actually liked you. A crush he tried pushing aside that only grew by the days that passed by, turning into nights he spent waking up covered in sweat and his own arousal.
It was a dream, the good part, at least. As Steve begins to come to, he remembers everything.
So… why can he still hear your whines and whimpers? Feel the movements of you rocking your hips against his thigh?
“Steve, If you wake up… do- don’t look, okay?” You whimper as a sigh shudders through you. Curiosity tugged Steve further awake, though.
Another sigh echoes around him, and he wants to open his eyes despite your warning, but one of his eyes is swollen shut. Still, he pushes himself to open the good eye, the dim lighting of the room barely helping him adjust to his surroundings.
Steve notices the nearly empty room, first. The giant mirror takes up the one wall across from him, and in the dim lights, he squints when he notices movement above him. He first sees the blood covering him, his face swollen in agonizing pain. His gaze falls to the chair he’s in, slowly noticing restraints holding him tight to the back of the chair. Panic floods through him as his vision grows steadier, finally adjusting to the shitty lighting.
A figure is straddling him, moving against him, but he can’t feel them. Not fully. Only a second of questioning lasts before a moan tumbles from your lips, realization hitting him like a truck—
Steve spins his head back to the front, eyes falling on you while his jaw hits the floor. His heart nearly beats out of his chest as he notices you’re fully naked, skin prickling with shame and a sheen of sweat covering your body.
Steve’s eyes fall to his leg, the one you’re riding, just like in his dream. Only, he’s still in his Scoops uniform, with some kind of device strapped to his leg. One you’re furiously rubbing and bouncing against: a strap on, secured to his thigh.
You’re looking away, tears pricking at your eyes; you know how wrong this is, but you can’t silence the pleasure building within you. Curiosity tempting you, your gaze flicks back to Steve, only to see him watching you in disbelief, swollen lips parted as he began matching your panting with his own.
“Steve— I- I can explain—“
A sharp click and whiny feedback echo through the room, startling the both of you before a voice with a Russian accent follows. “I see your friend is awake, now it’s time to play.”
Steve can’t take his eyes off of you, wondering if this was what started his dream, wondering how the fuck the two of you got into a situation like this.
He watches as you shake your head urgently, clamping your eyes shut.
“I- I can’t,” You blurt out, hips slowing down. “I won’t!”
“You don’t want us to finish the job.” The voice counters. “Why did you stop? You know what will happen to you both if you stop.”
Tears slip down your face as you open your eyes, daring to look at Steve. He gives a look, almost silently pleading with you to listen to the guards.
“Whatever you have to do,” Steve whispers, hoping it’s quiet enough not to be picked up on whatever communication system they have in the room. “Do it.”
“Steve, I- I’m so sorry— ”
The voice cuts back in, booming against the walls, “NOW!”
“I want us to be safe,” Steve whispers, gulping before he bounces his leg gently, slightly thrusting the toy up into you. You squeak out reluctantly, but it did feel good, especially with Steve’s attention on you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”
It’s not okay, though. Steve is still fighting off the exhaustion of unconsciousness, still trying to get a grip on the reality before him, but is coming up short with rationalizing in any other way that doesn’t have a terrible outcome for the both of you.
You take a deep breath before rolling your hips again, your leg between Steve’s thighs softly brushing against his bulge, quickly growing hard. You glance at him, eyes narrowing.
“You like this, don’t you?” You breathe, slowly lifting your hips up on the dildo— a difficult feat with your hands bound behind your back— before gently bringing yourself back down. A groan escapes your lips as the toy reaches deep inside you.
Steve scrambles to say something, at a loss for words, before feeling your own slick drip down the dildo and onto his leg. He glances down at the mess you’re making before glancing back at you.
“You’re one to talk, sweetheart,” Steve bites back, causing your cheeks to flush a shade red deeper. “Look at- at this… mess you’re making on me.”
You whine and throw your head back, grinding your hips down as you take the entire toy within you while your clit brushes against his leg ever so gently.
“I’m supposed to be— ” A moan slips out, stealing your sentence. “I- I have to make you feel humiliated, Harrington.”
The grave situation the two of you are in is slowly falling away, when all Steve can see is you. He smirks, though it blooms pain across his face, but he powers through it.
“That so?”
“They… god… they want me to kiss you and I- I can’t-“
“Are you afraid it’ll hurt me?” Steve wonders, and you shake your head as you try rolling your eyes, but they roll back into your head as he stiffens his leg again, thrusting the toy into you again.
“I- I don’t give a shit about th- that, Harrington. That’s what they want.” You whine, glancing over at the mirror. The sight of you riding Steve’s thigh was insanely hot, but you were distracted by the guards beyond the mirror watching you. “You know I hate you.”
Steve chuckles humorlessly, “Do you? Because your cunt seems to say otherwise.”
You brush your leg against Steve’s erection, earning a groan out of him. “Seems like your cock says otherwise, too.”
Steve grunts, trying to shift in his seat, desperate to feel any friction against his length. His gaze grows soft, his good eye growing doe-like as he stares at you needily.
“Please,” Steve rasps out. “Let me help you through this. When we make it out of here, no one has to know, I promise.”
You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to admit he’s joking, that it’s hilarious how pathetic you look riding a plastic cock strapped to him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything to build the doubt, just waits patiently for your answer while you continue rocking yourself against him.
“Fine,” You finally agree, but as you lean closer to Steve’s face, you stop just as your foreheads touch, whispering, “Are you okay?”
Steve licks his lips as he looks at yours, nodding, “Aside from being nearly beaten to death, I’m fucking great. You?”
You blush with eyes wide, “Not the way I wanted to admit my feelings… but I guess it’ll do.”
You surge forward, lips catching Steve’s, and he whimpers into the kiss, mainly from the pain. At first, he can feel tears building in his eyes, the sting lasting longer than he expected… but he kind of likes it. A sigh shudders through him as the hurt turns him on even more.
“Looks like your friend is into pain, too.” The voice chimes in, and you bite softly on Steve’s bottom lip before tugging gently. He moans, louder this time. “Show him what you’ve got, sweet girl.”
Steve pulls away abruptly before glaring at the mirror for a moment, then back at you, trying to catch his breath.
“Fuck that, they can’t call you that. You’re mine.”
The sudden possessive demeanor catches you off guard, sending shivers up your spine. Steve slams his thigh against your core, and you cry out as the toy hits your sweet spot just right.
Before you can catch your breath, Steve thrusts the dildo into you again, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Your eyes roll back into your head and you feel dizzy from the extreme pleasure.
“Taking it so well, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, leaning forward as best as he can to kiss your neck. You whimper as you continue bouncing on the strap, matching Steve’s thrusts.
Steve’s lips latch onto your skin, sucking and nipping at the sensitive spots in the crook of your neck. You brush your leg against his rock hard bulge, and Steve whines against your skin, responding with another harsh slam into you.
“M- more… ” You weakly mumble. Steve chuckles darkly at the request.
“Wish I could do more, sweetheart.” He grumbles into your skin, dipping his mouth lower to your chest. A gasp escapes you as you feel his tongue flick out against your nipple. “You look so pretty when you’re fucked out.”
All you can manage to get out is another long, drawn out whine, desperate to be able to touch Steve, to have him ruin you in return. The grave situation you’re both in almost melts away around you from the intense pleasure, but every now and then the static over the speakers reminds you you’re not alone.
Following the thought, the door clicks open, startling you from the forced bliss you were in. You feel Steve stiffen underneath you, but still he continues to keep his pace while bouncing his leg for you.
“Hm…” A guard you haven’t seen before, one with a thicker Russian accent spoke up as he took slow, agonizing steps towards the two of you. “It seems we’ve underestimated your friend.”
The guard circles the tangled mess of you and Steve, stopping as he ends up behind you. His hands wander from your shoulders, slowly caressing your arms, and you clamp your eyes shut in disgust.
“H- hey! Hands off of them!” Steve snaps, but the guard only laughs. Steve feels anger, white hot, building within him.
The guard circles back around to Steve, and your eyes open back up cautiously. You feel yourself almost relax as his touch leaves you, but tense back up as you watch the guard lean behind Steve.
“Wh- wait- what are you doing?” You ask as you panic. The guard smirks before the sound of metal hitting the floor echoes out against the cold, empty walls.
A beat of silence follows; with a swift motion, the guard pulls a syringe out from god knows where, plunging the needle into the side of Steve’s neck, catching him by surprise.
You gasp in horror as Steve cringes and hollers in pain, feeling helpless only being able to watch. It only lasts a moment before his head lolls forward onto your chest.
“What the fuck are you doing to him?!” You rasp out, tugging at the restraints your arms were still tightly bound in. Your eyes fall to Steve’s head resting on your chest, panicking as you wonder if he’s even still alive.
He leans down to Steve’s ear, dangerously close to you, as his eyes are still locked with yours. “Don’t disappoint us.”
The guard backs up, slipping out the door, leaving you stunned and confused. Panic continued to build in your chest; all pleasure had left your body as you worried for Steve’s safety.
“What just-“ Your eyes dart from the door, then to Steve, repeating a few more times. “- What just happened? Steve? Are you okay?”
For a moment, Steve is still silent. You hold your breath, hopeful to hear his own breathing if you listen closely enough, but your heartbeat is painfully loud in your ears.
It’s only a minute, maybe even less, but it feels like an eternity passes before you hear Steve groan. You sigh in relief.
“Oh my god, Steve,” You gasp, pushing yourself forward to try and push him off your chest. “Steve, wake up. Stay with me.”
A shaky breath rattles out of Steve before he speaks up, voice barely above a whisper. “You… you want… this… right?”
You nearly choke on air, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of emotions attached to the events unfolding in this underground base.
“What do you mean?” You dare to ask.
“I- I don’t think— I don’t know what that was, b- but I don’t feel s’good…” Steve breathes, voice wavering.
Your brows furrow at Steve’s words. “You’re not making sense, Steve. What did they give you—”
You feel the words die in your throat as large, warm hands grip your hips. Steve slowly pulls his head up, flashing a devious smirk your way that makes your heart drop into your stomach.
The restraints holding Steve back had been undone, and whatever the fuck they injected into his veins had a strong hold over him now.
With gritted teeth, Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you once more. “Tell me- tell— tell me you’re okay with this-“
“With what Steve?” You counter, still lost. “What are you— look. Just untie me, we can get out of here if we stick together.”
Gaze still fixated on you, Steve’s fingers dig into your skin, gripping you with a desire that reflects in his eyes.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” Steve murmurs, licking his swollen lips as his hands wander up your body, fingers splayed out as far as they can reach. “We’re just getting started.”
Frozen stiff— from fear or desire, you weren’t quite sure— you can only watch as Steve’s touch reaches your breasts, wasting no time in kneading. You melt into his touch, groaning, and it only tugs at the ends of his smirk even more.
Steve’s lips crash against yours, this time with more desperation and passion. You hear him whimper into your mouth as his tongue parts your lips, probably from the pain he still felt. Still, he pushes past the discomfort, massaging your tongue with his slowly.
You feel the slick of arousal build back up between your legs again, dripping down the strap still inside of you. It seems both you and Steve become aware of it again at the same time, because as you remember it’s presence, he bounces his leg up against your core.
Steve’s hands grip your hips again, guiding you as you ride the toy still strapped to his leg. A loud moan escapes you while Steve watches you with a heightened hunger.
“Y’get so wet so easily,” Steve husks, groaning as you work to build the pleasure back up within you again. “I bet you’d feel so fucking good and tight.”
Your stomach flips, but you’re so exhausted at this point, you can’t find the right words to keep up your end of the dirty talk.
“Such a filthy girl, too.” Steve groans, leaning down to kiss your chest. He trails sloppy kisses across your skin before reaching a nipple, teasing with his mouth as he did before. “Fucking a toy to save our lives.”
You speed your hips up at his words, despite the ache growing in your legs, barely holding you up. If it wasn’t for Steve holding onto you, you’re sure you’d collapse onto the floor.
“And you thought they wanted you to humiliate me?” Steve laughs sharply into your skin before biting the sensitive bud in his mouth. “Look at you, being forced to ride my leg— an inanimate object on my leg, and you’ve been dripping to the fucking floor.”
“Steve…. ” you whine while panting.
“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.” Steve encourages at first, but his eyes grow dark as he grips your throat with one hand, teasing with your breath. “C’mon, use that cocky mouth you were running all summer. You had no problem telling me how much you hate me, honey. Why so quiet now?”
The combination of the exhaustion and the way Steve is talking to you begins to make you grow weak, overcome by pleasure, and you begin to drool on yourself a bit. Steve barks out a laugh, turned on and disgusted.
“Jesus, you’re filthy.” Steve said lowly, removing his hand from your throat before slapping your face. “Don’t act cock-drunk yet, you’re not even fucking the real thing.”
While panting, you manage to get out, “I… want it.”
Steve’s brows quirk up, knowing exactly what you’re talking about but he doesn’t give in so easily. His hand snakes down between the two of you, fingers immediately reaching for your soaking, wet core.
You jolt at the sensation of Steve’s fingers on your clit, rubbing in painstakingly slow circles. You buck your hips, trying to add pressure, but Steve laughs lowly and pulls his hand back, barely touching your clit.
As you whine in desperation, Steve asks, “What do you want?”
Drained, you let your head loll forward, resting against Steve’s shoulder as your hips began to slow and stutter. Your panting is shallow as you feel exhaustion begin to grip you tightly.
Steve groans, shoving his shoulder forward to try and push you off, but to no avail; your forehead still rested on him, feeling your eyes growing heavy.
Again, Steve groans, almost like he’s… fighting with himself. A few moments pass until he strains out, “... You- you can’t s-stop…”
“... Hm?” You hold onto consciousness for dear life, both metaphorically and physically speaking.
Steve tucks his face into your neck, bouncing his leg softly, fucking the toy up into you, keeping you awake as you moan weakly.
“Let— let me take over,” he murmurs into your skin before kissing it gently. The soft touch of his lips against your neck sends shivers across your body. “D- do you trust me?”
“Y- yes, Steve,” You answer honestly, though still in a daze.
“Just— ” Steve forces out through gritted teeth before his mouth opens again, tongue darting out sharply to your skin before he bites down roughly. You cry out, feeling slightly alert again. “Ha- hang on for me, okay? I’ll take care of you… just hang on, can y’do that?”
As he waited for an answer, Steve began biting your neck again, sucking on the sensitive skin and soothing over the pain tingling across with his tongue. You groaned loudly in response.
“I need to- to hear you, babe,” Steve murmurs into your skin before biting once more, harder than the last time. You cry out at the sharp sensation. “Th- they’ll hurt us if— fuck!”
Steve inhales sharply, gripping into your skin with more force. You cry out at the pain as he shakes before crying out himself.
Whatever the guard gave him, he was able to fight off for a moment, but now it was just sinking deeper into his veins, taking full control again.
It’s probably too late at this point, but you still manage to blurt out, “I- I- I want you! I want you, Steve!”
Steve chuckles darkly into your neck before slowly licking a stripe up your skin, leading to your ear, panting heavily into it. “I know you do, sweetheart.”
In a quick, swift motion, Steve pulls you off of the toy while standing up, spinning you around before forcing your front against the nearest wall. Even through the roughness, the cool, metallic surface feels welcoming against your flushed skin.
With one hand, Steve holds you firmly by the back of your neck while he undoes the clasp of the strap around his leg, letting the toy fall to the floor. He quickly pushes his shorts down as best as he can with one hand before pressing himself against your backside.
You moan sinfully as you feel him, rock hard against your ass. Steve pants heavily while reaching around to your chest, groping your tits roughly.
“Mnph… S- Steve, please—”
One of his large hands reaches down to your ass, smacking harshly, earning a sharp cry from you again.
“You’ll take what I give you,” His voice is gravelly, serious. “Understood?”
You nod quickly, both startled and aroused. “Y- yes, Steve.”
“Good girl.”
Slowly, Steve kisses down your back, down your arms still bound behind you, before kneeling as he reaches your backside. You shiver under each, sloppy, wet kiss he leaves behind as he inches further and further down.
As he reaches the swell of your ass, he begins biting into the skin, gently, then gradually with more force as moves down.
“Spread your legs, babe.” Steve murmurs as he pushes your feet apart. He grabs you by the ankles, pulling you from the wall a bit, and you hold yourself up as best as you can with your upper body still against the surface.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck this tight, sweet cunt so bad,” Steve groans into your skin, hooking his arms around your thighs, pulling your ass closer to his face. “But I wanna taste you so much more.”
A breath shudders out of you before Steve kisses your soaked folds lightly. He sucks slowly on your folds before delving his tongue between them, collecting your arousal onto his lips.
You push your ass out further, desperate to feel more of Steve’s mouth on you, and greedily responds by sucking roughly on your clit.
“Oh… oh, fuck,” Your moans begin to fill the empty space around the two of you. Steve groans into your skin, vibrations adding to the pleasure he’s creating with his tongue. “M- more… god!”
Steve pulls back, laughing at your desperation while you whine. “Jesus Christ, I knew you wanted me, but you’re such a needy fuckin’ slut.”
He falls silent for a moment before spreading your cheeks and spitting onto your tight hole. You gasp in shock, knees growing weak as you feel Steve tease a finger around your entrance.
“Y’know, I bet your mouth would feel so good around my cock…” Steve mumbles before spitting again, spreading the saliva around your skin before slowly pushing a finger into your tight ring. Your eyes roll back in your head. “It’s a better use than you running it all the fuckin’ time. God— some days I just wanted to- to push you to your knees and shove my cock down your throat to shut you up.”
At this point you feel yourself begin drooling onto your body again, and Steve notices the mess trailing down onto the wall in front of you.
“Filthy slut… such a filthy, dirty girl,” Steve groans, slowly fingering your ass. “You’re gonna cum for me before I fuck your brains out, understand?”
Before you can answer, Steve’s lips are back on your core, flicking his tongue against your clit with precision. All that tumbles out of your mouth are breathy moans.
You look down to the floor and see Steve look up at you, position switched as he’s eating you out from the front, still fingering your ass and groping your cheek with his free hand. Though you can only see his eyes, you can tell he’s smirking while watching you come undone above him.
Steve adds a second finger into your cunt while groaning at how wet you are, how easily his digit slides in. Your head spins as he continues to finger fuck both your holes while lapping away at your clit. Your legs begin to shake, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh from between your thighs.
“M’close…” You whimper, flexing your wrists as far as you could between the restraints; you wanted nothing more than to pull on Steve’s hair right now, make him moan.
“Already?” Steve asks, pulling back from your core with his chin and lips glistening. He’s flashing a fake, mocking pout up at you. The sight makes your pussy throb as he continues fingering you. “I just started playing with you, babe.”
In your desperation to reach the high you’ve been chasing this whole time, you whine out, “I- I promise, you can do as much as you want— whenever you want!”
His tongue flicks lightly across your clit, but pulls back, leaving you whining in disappointment. “Yeah? This your truce? You finally gonna admit you’ve always liked me?”
You roll your eyes and huff, “Steve, no- now’s not the time—”
“Admit it.” Steve orders, voice low before he spits onto your cunt. You groaned at the sensation of his spit rolling over your clit, adding to the wetness from your arousal. “Admit you’ve always liked me. You’ve always had the hots for me, always wanted to fuck me—”
“Steve!”
“Sorry, right, you wanted me to fuck you.” Steve teases, driving you mad at this point. His fingers begin to slow, barely fucking you. “Just say the words, sweetheart, and I’ll let you cum.”
Taking a few deep breaths and rolling your eyes, you give in.
“Fine! Fine, okay!” You yelp out, twitching when Steve sucks on your clit for a second before pulling back again. You felt like you were going to die if you didn’t finally climax.
Which… yeah, that was technically the truth down here.
“Fine? Okay? What’s fine and okay, babe?”
You huff, ready to slam your thighs together on his irritating, cocky, pretty head. For a quick second, you almost do, but you remember neither of you are making it out of this room until the both of you climax, all for the guards’ pleasure.
This is so fucked up.
“God- fucking—”You pause as Steve leans back in to spit again, and a moan tumbles out of you. “— yes, okay, I- I- like you, Steve!”
Smirking, he leans in to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud, just enough to feel good, but not enough to reach that high.
“And?”
“And- and- and I really like you, and always have,” You begin to stutter out. Steve’s tongue continues its pace. “I’ve always thought you were— oh, god- you— I want you to fu- fuck me, Steve. Please.”
Sickeningly sweet, he responds, “Anything for you, sweet girl,” before delving into your folds again, fully focusing his attention on the spot you needed him the most.
His fingers pick up speed again, and you’re thankful he’s got a good grip on your legs, or you’re certain you’d fall over by now.
You can’t stop the noises from escaping your lips as he continues his pace on ruining your body in the best ways possible. He hums into your core; the vibrations push you closer to the edge and your eyes close in bliss.
It’s only a moment longer before you’re shaking, orgasm ripping through your body while stars explode behind your lids. Mouth falling open in a silent scream, you feel yourself really let go. You swear, you’ve never felt this good by anyone before, not even your own actions on lonely nights.
Finally, a scream leaves your body in ecstasy, and Steve’s moans nearly match yours as he watches you reach your high above him.
“Fuck... that’s so... hot.” He rasps out. You open your eyes to his words to find his face covered in the aftermath of your high.
You feel embarrassment as heat creeps along your face in shame. “Oh- oh my god… Steve, I’m so sorry- I- I- didn’t even know I could do that-“
Steve licks his lips as they twist into a smirk up at you, pulling himself back along with his hand out of you. You whine at the loss and shiver as you watch him suck on his fingers, groaning around them.
A blush creeps across his face as he breaks through the haze of the drug again, only for a moment, but you don’t miss it.
“I- you— don’t apologize,” Steve says meekly, running a hand through his hair, also damp as well from the sweat and your climax. “That- that was my fucking dream—”
You almost laugh at how dorky he sounds, but notice how he tenses up again. His breathing becomes shallow as he winces, trying to fight it off.
“Steve,” You call out, worried. “We just have to finish and then we’re out of here, okay? You- you have to help me out here, I can’t move well with my hands still tied.”
Steve struggles at first to get to his feet, letting the substance in his body regain control again, but he manages to stand up between you and the wall. You’re more aware now than you ever have been of how he towers over you, shivering as he looks at you like you’re some sort of prey.
“You’ve been so good for me,” Steve says as he pushes a strand of hair from your face gently. His touch is soft, almost too soft for the way he’s been acting tonight. “I’ll let you pick the way you want me to fuck you.”
You gulp sharply, before responding with no hesitation, “Against the wall.”
Steve smirks, laughing lowly. “You were just against it, sweetheart.”
“I- I- yeah, I know,” You agree, blushing. Steve’s hand slowly cards through your hair before tugging, causing you to whine. “I mean like— my back against the wall. I- I wanna see you when you cum inside me, Steve.”
Steve groans and in a flash, he’s pulling you by your hair, slamming you against the wall. You gasp at the sudden movement, watching as Steve quickly pulls his clothes off before pressing himself against you.
Your heart sinks at the sight of more injuries across his body, blooming in radiant shades of purples and reds and blues. Steve slams his mouth against yours in a rough, quick kiss, pulling you from your worries of him. There’d be plenty of time later to clean up and care for each other.
He hoists you up by your legs, holding you tight as you’re balanced up against the wall. Steve looks between your bodies before spitting between them, coating his swollen cock in the makeshift lube.
“Please…” You whimper as Steve runs the head of his cock up and down your folds teasingly. He smirks at you before plunging in all at once, shuddering out a breathy moan of his own.
You heard the rumors back in school; you knew Steve was somewhat decent in bed, you just had no fucking clue he was packing the length and girth he had. Your head falls against his shoulder, biting the skin to hold back a scream as he stretches you out.
Steve’s brows furrow slightly before forcing out, “You… you… okay?”
You hum and nod in response, rasping out, “Move.”
Steve’s hips roll slowly into yours at first; you can tell he’s trying so hard to go easy on you. The real Steve would’ve wanted this first time to be slow and soft, still where he’s dominant, but caring and gentle. But, he’s not in control right now.
You, on the other hand… you’re not sure if you could say the same about your desires for the first time with Steve.
As he moves in and out of you with ease, pushing against your slick walls, you feel his cock twitch a little already.
“Whoa… you gonna cum this soon?”
Steve’s eyes turn dark as he slams into you. “Sh- shut up.”
Your stomach flips at the change back to this dominant, rough demeanor, and decide to push it further.
“Aww, is Steve gonna finish faster than I did?” You tease, and Steve’s pace picks up, slamming into you harder. You cry out, watching his expression turn frustrated.
“I said, shut up.” Steve spits, fucking you harder. Your eyes begin to roll back into your head.
“What? Can’t handle being teased, Stevie?” You continue to mock him, enjoying the way he’s reacting to it. “Don’t you like it? Don’t you— ”
Steve pulls you away from the wall and out of you before he shoves you towards the chair. As you stumble onto it, Steve unlatches the restraints, letting your hands fall to the back of the chair just in time to hold you up.
Bent over, Steve smacks your ass roughly before slamming back into you. You lurch forward and cry out again before he begins his steady, rough pace into you again.
“You’re such a fucking brat. Such a filthy, insatiable, brat.” Steve growls through gritted teeth, pounding into you relentlessly.
All you can do is continue to let your moans echo against the metallic walls in response.
Steve’s hands reach around to your face, gripping you for a moment before opening your mouth, hooking his fingers into your cheeks. You begin drooling all over yourself as he pulls at your mouth while continuing to rail you.
Again, all you can do is cry out… and make a terrible mess with your spit.
“God- fuck-“ Steve groans out, rutting into you mercilessly. “I- I’m gonna— where do you—”
“In me!” You manage to yell out around his fingers still in your mouth.
Steve’s breath hitches as he fights the drug again. “You… are you…sure?” His hands fall from your face and grip your hips tightly.
“I’ve never been so fucking sure of anything in my life,” You hurry out, gripping onto the chair while your knuckles grew white. You moan out sinfully, “Fill me up, Steve.”
Almost on command, Steve releases into you, coating your walls with his arousal while sloppily thrusting any energy he has left into you.
He feels like his high shoots him straight up to the stars. Even if it was fueled by that nasty mystery drug, it doesn’t matter to him. Not in the moment as your cunt milks out every last drop from him, just like he always dreamed of.
As you try to catch your breath, you rest your head onto your hands on top of the chair, closing your eyes as you feel him inside you. Steve slowly pulls out, groaning at the loss of you squeezing him, as you do the same at the loss of him inside you.
“Fuck… Steve….”
“I- did I just- did we just-“
You look back to see Steve, back to his doe-eyed, slightly shyer, dorkier self, blushing as he looks back at you. He can’t tell if he wants to cry or laugh this whole thing off, and you can sense the conflict in his feelings.
“Steve- it’s okay. We’re okay, I promise.” You pant out as you search his face, watching the real him break through.
His eyes fall to your cunt, dripping from your mixed juices, and he groans as he palms himself before dropping to his knees. As he grips your thighs, you gasp in surprise while feeling his tongue run up your folds slowly, lapping up every last drop.
You shiver and twitch from the overstimulation, still shaky from your orgasm from earlier.
“Fuck. Fuck.” You breathe out, exhausted and in disbelief of what just happened. Steve presses a kiss to the swell of your ass before moving to his feet.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you up right before sitting you in the chair properly. He searches your face carefully, looking for any signs of distress “You okay? I’m so- god. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”
You cup his face in your hands softly, giving him a weak, but sincere smile. “Fucked up… but I wouldn’t have wanted this with anyone but you. Are you okay?”
Steve kisses your forehead softly before nodding, still shaking himself. “M- might ask you to stay over later… could use some aftercare. Kinda want to check on you too. Y’know… if we make it out alive.”
A loud buzz echoes in the room, followed by a clicking noise. You and Steve turn to see the door slowly, automatically open.
“Is… are they… can we go?” You ask, and Steve’s eyes dart between you and the door before pulling you up.
“Let’s get dressed and get the fuck outta here.” Steve rushes out, pulling you behind him.
You tug his arm back, and Steve spins to quickly run into you with a soft “oof!” Reaching up to him, you press your lips against his, savoring one more kiss before leaving this horrid room, this time, soft and slow.
You mumble against his lips, “I don’t think I’ll be leaving your side anytime soon.”
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Odd!Reader who doesn’t fully pick up on social cues, but yaps away
They could be in the middle of fucking and as he’s thrusting in they mumble, “My clit. Play with it, can’t cum without it.” Not a moment later his fingers are rubbing circles against their clit, but they just don’t stop talking.
As he’s fucking them (supposed to be fucking them dumb) they keep rambling on, into a full spiel of why you have to pay attention to the clit; how the clit is made up of tons of nerves - “That’s also why the g-spot right there! feels so good. Actually- ah researchers think that it may be connected to the clitoral network.”
“Uh-huh?” He continues his ministrations, more focused on how his cock is sliding in and out of them, a creamy ring forming around his base. They spare a glance down at the mix of liquids with a shaky moan. “Uh-huh. D-did you know..?”
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#steve harrington x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#john soap mactavish x reader#arthur morgan x reader#john marston x reader#dean winchester x reader#joel miller x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john price x reader#bucky barnes x reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#joel miller x you#steve harrington x you#odd!reader
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I guess it’s never really over
mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers
Chapter Four -
Honey, on your knees when you look at me
The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.
warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.
wc: 10k
authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didn’t think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. beta’d by: @superblysubpar
series masterlist | series playlist
songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think I’m Pretty, Please Don’t Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.
Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sun’s wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robin’s living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, they’re met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you.
¨Shit.¨
Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch.
A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm.
A metal chain.
The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when you’re met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington.
“No, no, no, no.”
The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harrington’s kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he must’ve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before you’ve even had any coffee.
There’s a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didn’t just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didn’t say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? It’s the self-respecting thing, it’s what you told yourself you’d always do.
Say no.
You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robin’s blinds. There’s an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasn’t the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run.
You’re not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friend’s favorite snack.
Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when you’re met with the mugginess of the Midwest.
Steve’s chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still haven’t taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.
Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddie’s van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steve’s BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isn’t there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.
Steve’s side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jackson’s The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way he’s probably singing along, or that curl that won’t stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.
Why is Eddie not here?
You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward.
He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.
The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesn’t notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whatever’s on the paper he’s holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music that’s loud enough to hide you a little bit longer.
Your gaze lands on Eddie’s empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didn’t drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger you’d been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadn’t broken down, you wouldn’t have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here secretly wanting to do it again.
Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasn’t by himself anymore.
”The music’s a little loud don’t you think?”
The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face can’t be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a ‘Jesus Christ’ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.
Point one - you.
Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that it’s you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.
Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesn’t break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.
”Wow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.”
Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest that’s hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.
“Maybe I should report you to Eddie.”
“Most of the cars in here don’t run,” Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, “You of all people should know that.”
“Sounds like maybe you’re just bad at your job.”
You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.
“Did you come here just to pick a fight?” Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes “Or do you just want another kiss?”
It’s impossible to sound out the word ‘no’ even though it’s just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead.
“Is that it baby?” Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.
”No,” you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, “That’s not why I’m here.”
The little bit of self-control you’ve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.
”Are you sure?” He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.
“A-absolutely,” you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck.
”Hmmm, I know what it must be then,” he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes.
Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.
“You must be here to tell me when you’ll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?”
It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.
“The opposite actually,” clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, “I’m here to say that whatever happened last night doesn’t change anything.”
The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you weren’t denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought you’d lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.
“So!” You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, “You better get that out of your head right now. We’re not going on a date.”
Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night.
“We can be friendly for Robin’s sake, but it’s never going to happen again. I’m not your girl, Harrington.”
Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you can’t quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like they’re being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole.
“If that’s how you really feel, fine.” He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. “I’ll take my chain back now then.”
“No.”
“No?” He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.
”I don’t even know why you put it on me in the first place,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.
You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really aren’t ready to unpack yet.
”I left it!” Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, “I left it so you didn’t think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.”
The sarcastic ‘HA!’ you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know he’s staring.
”How about this, Steve?” You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, “I’ll think about it.”
Steve doesn’t take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.
”Are you serious?!“ You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.
“It’s simple honey,” he sighs with an irritated edge, “Give me my chain and I’ll open her back up so you can go run back to Robin’s and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?”
”This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Let me out asshole!”
A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.
”I’m ridiculous?” Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that you’re sealed inside as he walks towards you, “Look at yourself.”
”What’s that supposed to mean?” You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.
“I know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but you’ve always been a terrible actress.”
“And you’ve always had way more confidence than you should.”
Steve’s nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.
”I’m going to get back to work, you’re free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. I’m getting paid to be here all day baby, you aren’t, so just know that I’ve got time.” He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.
“Come take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.”
Two can play that game.
He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.
“I said,” your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you aren’t sealing your fate with the next four words, “Come and get it.”
Steve’s long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.
Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.
The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each other’s cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.
His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this.
“Steve,” you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.
He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suck–hard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark what’s his intensify, leaving a bruise you’ll have to explain to Robin later.
”Yeah?” He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.
“Shut up,” you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.
“You're always so mean to me, honey,” Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.
”Yeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?” You bite, but it doesn’t sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.
Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.
“I think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,” he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, “The real question is…”
The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you don’t take.
“Are you gonna let me?” His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.
The humid air doesn’t help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.
”I could be so nice to you, baby,” he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. “Don’t you want that?”
Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.
“Gonna make me earn it, huh?” He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, “That’s okay. I’ll show you I’m worthy.”
His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan you’ve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.
“God, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.” He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, “Bet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.”
Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.
“Baby, are you gonna come already? I’ve barely touched you.”
His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But it’s still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:
”Y- you wish it was that easy.”
Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral.
“What are you doing?!” You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.
He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.
“Need you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.” He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place.
Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.
When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, it’s almost enough for you to forget the game you’re both supposed to be playing. There’s a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know there’s no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.
Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue that’s seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he can’t help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isn’t just you.
“Fuck.” He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over.
Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, “I thought you were supposed to show me somethin’?”
His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.
“So impatient,” he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, “My girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didn’t she?”
“Steve - shut uhhhhohmygod!”
His mouth latches onto your cunt like he’s thirsty for everything you’re offering him, collecting your dripping honey that’s sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.
Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.
”Holy shit I -“ Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like you’re the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, “You’re gonna - fuck - Steve!”
His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you weren’t so far gone, you’d be scared you’re suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and it’s almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years it’s still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.
The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. It’s enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.
“Right there, shit, right there, right there, I’m gonna, oh my god I’m gonna cum!”
Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.
He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he can’t wait to hear all summer long.
Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body can’t help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself.
”Now what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?” Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head.
The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know it’s going to hurt even worse walking away again.
“Hey, what’s going on up there?” He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.
You don’t give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more.
Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like it’s the sweetest thing.
“Want you,” you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.
”Baby,” He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him that’s still covered by the navy blue material you can’t seem to get off fast enough.
He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them.
Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.
“You came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,” he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, “I just need to know this is what you really want.”
His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you can’t hate him anymore.
“I really want it.”
The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this.
It’s all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.
“I’ll go slow,” he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. “I know you can take it, honey.”
Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain that’s telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights.
He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesn’t get away.
”So fuckin’ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.” Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. ”Wanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?”
“Mmhmm,” you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control you’ve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.
“Oh fuck, you’re still so - shit.” Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.
The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling you’ll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black iris’s threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
”I want to look at you.” He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.
”Steve!”
Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah?” He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.
“It feels, you feel -“
A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders.
“Tell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.” He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind.
His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like ‘Steve’ is the only word you’ve ever known. It’s a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. It’s worse than before, and you don’t know how you’re going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.
”Missed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.” Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade you’ve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.
The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings you’ve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth.
It’s easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.
Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.
”Oh my god!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.
“I wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?” He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.
Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes.
“Come on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.” He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.
Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder.
“Yeah, that’s it, that’s iiiiit, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge he’d been teetering on since had you against the garage door.
A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.
The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.
Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car.
“God, Eddie’s going to kill me.” He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.
“How’s he gonna find out?” You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.
”Baby.” Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.
It’s harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. They’re warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in.
He doesn’t notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. There’s less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not.
Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you can’t fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.
”Let’s go get cleaned up in the bathroom,” he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.
You tell yourself you’ll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps.
“I’ve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I can’t believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust it’s the real deal, you know?”
Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face that’s far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.
“I can’t believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.” You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.
”I told you he’s like 19 - “
”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,” you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.
”Wait, where are you going?” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.
”I should go before Robin -“
”What? No, she’ll be fine, it’s like noon. I’m sure she’s not even awake yet.”
“Steve.”
”Honey.”
The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests.
“Don’t run again.” He pleads with a whisper that’s barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.
“I’m not running, I’m walking.” You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.
”I’m not letting you walk home.”
“It’s down the road-“
“I don’t care! You’re not walking. Let me close up and then I’ll at least drive you.”
You don’t argue with the hurt expression on his face, you can’t.
It’s somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you don’t want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.
You aren’t expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence that’s filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.
”Thanks,” you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat that’s starting to feel like yours again.
He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and you’re not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him.
His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isn’t as loud as you thought it’d be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloaf’s I’d Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robin’s apartment complex quickly comes into view.
But he never stops.
“Steve, what are you doing?” You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past.
“This is technically my lunch break, and I’m hungry.” He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, “You’re telling me you’re not starving after that honey?”
Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks.
“Wow, your confidence always just astounds me.” Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.
”I think you like it.”
You can’t bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.
”But if you really can’t stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, I’ll turn around right now, honey.” You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, “Just say the words.”
‘Say it, say turn around Steve.’
“Take me somewhere with fries.”
When you left Robin’s house this morning, you didn’t think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth you’re sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where you’d end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land.
God, this was not a part of the plan.
“I got you strawberry,” his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.
“What if I wanted chocolate?” You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.
“That’s what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,” he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, “I’ll share.”
You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner.
“No thanks, you can keep your cooties.” Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.
”I think it’s a little late for that baby, I’m afraid you’re completely covered in them.” He doesn’t hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls that’d been staring at him since the two of you walked in.
”Steve!” You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.
”What?” He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.
“I can’t stand you.”
It’s impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasn’t stopped showering you with adoration.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.” He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.
”So tell me something,” you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, “How did Steve Harrington, ‘king of Hawkins’, become a mechanic? I always thought you’d be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.”
You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.
”Umm, I did work for my dad’s firm for like six months actually.” He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. “I think we hate each other even more now.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude that's not why I asked -“
”Honey, you’re fine.” He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently.
”Turns out I’m a terrible office manager. I’d get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and we’d lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.”
”Steve-“
“I knew he was going to fire me anyway, it’s fine” he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.
“So I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, he’d teach me a few things and turns out, I’m actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.”
He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall you’ve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.
”Well, it looks good on you Harrington.” You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you weren’t supposed to feel like this. “I guess.”
He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize he’s never going to get over you.
Steve’s one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything you’ve missed. It’s all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didn’t actually lose his job in the morning.
It didn’t matter though, he got his date.
And when he pulls up to Robin’s he doesn’t hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesn’t ask for his chain back, and you don’t offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.
🌻chapter five
#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x y/n#mechanic!steve#mechanic!eddie
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I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!
dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k
When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection.
“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.
“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room.
“Love you, dad,” Dove says.
“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.”
Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says.
“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?”
He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.”
“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest.
She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly.
“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.”
The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.”
“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.”
“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts.
“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly.
“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts.
Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.
“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him.
“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible.
He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly.
“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic.
Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable.
“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!”
“What?” he asks.
“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.”
“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?”
Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.”
“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you.
“I didn’t see her.”
“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.”
Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?”
“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?”
Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out.
Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you.
There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly.
You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss.
“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth.
“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?”
Beth takes a deep breath.
#kisses before dinner universe#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#dad!steve harrington#dad!steve harrington x reader#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader#steve harrington x afab!reader#afab!reader#mom!reader#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fandom#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff
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Watch don't touch - Eddie (bf) x reader x Steve
Behold, the Eddie munson fic that will break the internet...
Summary: Eddie loves to show people what they want but can't have. Steve just happens to want you, Eddie's precious girlfriend.
Warnings: Semi-public sex, voyeurism, hand job, fingering.
1.7k wc
"Have you guys had sex yet?" The question comes from Steve, pointedly looking at you and Eddie cuddling on the floor, your backs leant on the outside couch in Steve's big backyard, the cool wind causing ripples in the perfectly blue pool. Robin snorts from where she sits on the couch above you, but you're all too drunk to notice that the question might be too personally invasive. "Well... mhm-" You start, not knowing how to give him a proper answer. "Technically," Eddie cuts in "No. But many orgasms have been involved in this relationship." Nancy straightens up from where she's sat facing you guys "What so you're just constantly giving each other head?"
You can almost feel Eddie grin widely, the hand resting on your hip giving it a soft squeeze. "I mean that, amongst other things. But you can't blame me, you'd be in the same position if you got a taste of this pussy." The way Eddie delivers the line almost takes away the sexual nature of his words, but you gasp in shock nonetheless, separating from him slightly to slap him on the arm. Eddie laughs at the attempt to silently scold him, instead leaning down to press his lips to yours in a kiss you immediately reciprocate. You're both too busy exchanging saliva to notice the way both Robin and Steve perk up at Eddie's words, now tempted by you.
They unashamedly stare while you kiss, ignoring the scoff Nancy gives them, with the quiet mutter of "pervs", though it seems she doesn't look away either. The first words to come out of Eddie's mouth when you break the kiss are "You should see how loud she gets when you hit the right spot. I'd let you have a taste, but no one gets to touch my girl." It's the way that Eddie holds eye contact with you even though his words are aimed at Steve that has your juices pooling in your panties and your thighs unconsciously clench, exposed by your short denim skirt just enough to attract the eyes of the onlookers. "Eddie." Your whisper comes out as more of a whine, and you feel your cheeks flush. You turn towards him, both hands coming up to clutch his arm as you dig your face into his shoulder.
One of his hands slithers down to rest in between your thighs, dangerously high to your pussy, already radiating heat from how horny you are. "She gets shy now but later... a whole different person, aren't you sweetheart?" He pecks your lips quickly and you whine louder than you should when he pulls away. "No one gets to touch your girl but it seems you're pretty intent on showing her off." Eddie hums in agreement at Steve's comment, leaning down to pepper kisses on your neck. "Love showing people what they want but can't have." His words come out muffled against your skin and tickle your neck slightly so you squirm away from him, but both of his strong arms wrap around your waist before you can get far and pull you back against his front.
"What do you want Steve?" The loud sigh that comes from him has you both peering up at him curiously, only to find him staring directly at you. "What I can't have." He brings up his can of beer to take a big gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. You feel the blood rush to your face at his shameless reply, glancing up at Eddie when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "You like that answer sweetheart? King Steve wants you so bad." Impossibly, you feel your face flush even more, shifting to try and hide your face away in your boyfriend's chest.
There's a long pause that follows, in which Eddie and Steve exchange a very specific look. The loud doorbell of Steve's rich parents' house rings, breaking everyone out of their weird trance and Nancy scrambles up to get it, yelling out "Robin that's our ride!" Robin hesitates, taking her time to follow the other girl, and Eddie wastes no time in digging his face in the crook of your neck, immediately nibbling at the soft skin, pressing kisses in between. The sound of the door slamming shut is Eddie's go sign for his hands to start wandering. "Eds" You breathe out, legs unconsciously spreading slightly.
Steve's eyes widen as Eddie reaches for the zipper of your skirt, carefully beginning to tug the denim fabric down your legs. Lifting your hips up, you use your boyfriend's strong torso as support as you kick at your skirt to finally free your legs. Surprisingly, you don't feel at all exposed in front of Steve, rather comfortable in his presence. "Steve?" You enquire, cocking your head to the side at the look of shock on his face, his jaw completely slack. "You okay?" The second his head snaps back up to meet your gaze, he's frantically nodding for you to go on, so Eddie waste no time snaking his fingers down your bright red lace panties.
"So naughty wearing a red thong under such a short skirt. Did you want Steve to see them?" Eddie whispers in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. You moan at his quiet question, your hips involuntarily bucking when he finds your clit, beginning to tease you. "Spread your legs for me baby." He says, this time loud enough for Steve, who's intently watching, to hear the comment. Fixing your gaze on the blushing man, you can't help but stare at the obvious bulge in his pants, licking your lips slightly while obeying your boyfriend's command.
Easily, Eddie manhandles you so that you directly face Steve, allowing him a perfect view of Eddie's hand teasing you under your lace panties. "How about I get rid of this?" He mutters, and your eyes snap wide open at the sound of fabric ripping. "Eddie!" You whine, but you can't stay mad because that's the moment he decides to stop teasing you, instead using your juices as a lubricant to slip two fingers into your hole. You gasp out a moan, throwing your head back onto your boyfriend's shoulder, but it seems for a moment that you don't have his full attention anymore.
Steve looks like a deer caught in headlights when you look up, catching him palming his dick through his thick jeans. "Why don't you give yourself a little more space to breathe, yeah Stevie?" Eddie enjoys teasing him, despite knowing that having you all spread out in front of him without being able to touch you is punishment enough. "Fuck." You mutter, rolling your hips against Eddie's hand to match his slowing rhythm. "Please Stevie." Your plea is enough for Steve to hurriedly unzip his jeans, freeing his hard dick, which slaps the bottom of his abdomen angrily. You try squeezing your legs for more friction but Eddie tuts, using his free hand to pull your left leg as far to the side as he can, finally speeding up when he sees Steve finally grabbing his dick to play with himself properly.
"Can't come until Stevie does, okay sweetheart?" A whine comes out instead of an answer, your eyes shut in satisfaction. It's only when you feel a hand on your face, barely squeezing your cheeks together that you nod, murmuring an "Okay, okay Eds." Your eyes trail to where Steve's hand is quickly moving up and down his cock, then down to where Eddie's hand is vigorously going in and out of you, the palm of his hand making a loud slapping sound every time it hits your clit. You silently pray for Steve to come as fast as he can because with Eddie's pace, there's no way you're gonna hold off.
With a sudden realisation that your boyfriend is the only one not receiving some source of pleasure, you snake a hand between your back and Eddie's stomach, blindly looking for his dick, which you know for certain is painfully hard. "What you looking for sweetheart?" You hear your boyfriend ask you amidst all the pleasure. "Y'r cock." You slur, moaning as he begins rubbing circles on your clit. Steve must be close, you realise, looking back up at the other boy, who jerks himself off, eyes stuck on you and your boyfriend. "God, you're so big Stevie." You praise, grinning when he whines loudly, hips bucking up into his hand.
"Are you gonna cum for me?" You press on, noticing the effect your words have on him. "Cum for me- oh God-" Your words are cut off from your own pleasure, bucking your hips up into Eddie's hand after he sends a harsh slap to your clit with his free hand. He's warning you not to go too far. "Cum for me Stevie." The boy in front of you moans your name repeatedly, and Eddie's hand becomes more aggressive on your pussy, pushing you towards your orgasm, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. "Eddie! Oh Eddie, I-fuck!" Eddie's hand pushes your face in his direction, and he presses his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss full of tongue and saliva as he begins to slow his movements on your cunt, riding out your orgasm.
You pant and moan into the kiss, turning to face him completely once he removes his hand from your pussy, wrapping both your arms over his shoulders to try and deepen the kiss. His hands play with your ass, and he's trying to subtly grind you over his dick, the tent in his pants obvious. Finally, you pull away from him, turning to face Steve, who has cum covering the bottom of his shirt as well as his black boxers. He sits there watching you both, trying to catch his breath. When you pull on your skirt, having abandoned the ripped panties, you walk over to Steve, putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort, and you lean in to press a kiss on his cheek. "I think that was the most intense orgasm I've ever had." He admits, smiling when Eddie barks out a laugh.
"Look man, this was really nice, but I'm so hard I can barely move, so I think me and Y/N should go." It's you and Steve's turn to laugh, and you clamber up to your feet, slipping your feet into your sandals before speeding up to catch up with your boyfriend.
#stranger things#stranger things fics#rainydayathogwarts#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#stranger things smut#steve x reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#eddie x fem!reader#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie x steve#eddie x you#steve x eddie#steve x you#steddie
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Turnstiles
Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶
Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.
Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.
word count: 2.6k
Three ←→ Five
Masterlist
Summer 1988
We hide our hearts from harder times
There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.
“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.
“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.
“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.
“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.
“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.
“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.
“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.
“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.
“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.
“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.
“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.
“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.
“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.
“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.
“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.
“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.
It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.
“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.
It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.
“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.
“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.
“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.
“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.
“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.
His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.
“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.
“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.
“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.
“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.
“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.
“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.
“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.
“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.
This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.
“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.
“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.
“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.
“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.
“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.
“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.
“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.
Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.
“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.
“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.
“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.
“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.
“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.
“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.
“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”
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#steve harrington series#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x femreader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x y/n smut#billy joel#joe keery fanfiction#joe keery steve harrington#joe keery smut#joe keery fic#joe keery imagines#joe keery stranger things#joe keery x reader#joe keery imagine#joe keery#joe keery x femreader#joe keery x fem!reader#joe keery x y/n
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Summary: it’s always the best laid plans of mice and men, isn’t it?
Pairing: s.h. x f!oc
W.C.: 5.4K
Warnings: gilded age!au, miscommunication, a comedy of errors/manners, society snobs, a masquerade ball mishap, arranged marriage, steve ‘down bad’ harrington, and a reader/mc who doesn’t have time for this shit - she was educated abroad, she went to Vassar with Miss Nancy Wheeler, okay?!, back on my iliad bullshit (i know, i know)
playlist | m.list
I. Coup de foudre
It’s a dreary December evening in Manhattan. The streets are damp and slick accompanied by the cacophony of hooves, equipages and carriages trundling down the way. Somber topcoats and fur-trimmed capes hide the tailored waistcoats of the men and ornate skirts of the ladies, as is to be expected with the current onslaught of weather.
Small white flurries of snow that are sure to bring a swift end to laborious dinners and engagements at the club. And the man in the sleek black equipage himself is all too relieved about it— at least he would be released from the obligation of hearing his father’s friends complain about these upstart robber barons descending like a horde of locusts on Fifth Avenue.
A quiet night in his study would be a welcome distraction.
That is, if they can ever get home in this weather.
He can hear the whinny of the horses from up front and the soothing tones of the driver. The streets are probably close to icing over at this hour, making it difficult to find traction.
Suddenly, the equipage swings quickly to the side and careens into something with a loud thud, sending its sole occupant straight into the door with a smack. He hisses lowly at the twinge in his forehead as the driver descends with a flurry of apologies.
He opens the door himself and steps outside before the driver can assist him. The white puffs of his breath speak to how quickly the weather had turned. He draws his coat closer and approaches the two drivers as they attempt to settle the horses.
“Gentlemen,” He greets, “What seems to be the problem?”
“Noting to worry about Mr. Harrington,” His man, Andrew, assures him, “The ice just snuck up on us is all.”
He nods taking in the damage, dents and scuffs on both vehicles but the horses appear to be fine. Reaching into his coat pocket, he brings out a small notebook and a pencil to scribble his information down for the other driver. Is about to tell the man to bill him directly when someone steps out from the carriage opposite.
The footsteps themselves are delicate and tentative. He tears his gaze from the driver’s, glancing back only to find a young woman emerging from the carriage. She’s holding her skirts in one gloved hand, shivering in the cold.
“Is everything all right Jesse?”
Her voice is like music to his ears, melodic almost. And she looks like something stolen from a painting— bright and alluring.
The winter light is quickly fading, and the lamplighters were sure taking their time this evening. Her cape is dark, like his coat, but the split at the front reveals a purple skirt trimmed in demure black lace, signifying an exit from her period of mourning.
Her man, Jesse, shepherds her back toward the coach, “Let’s get you back inside Miss, don’t want you to catch a chill.”
“Of course,” She says with a shake of her head, “How silly of me.”
And before Steve can embarrass himself in an attempt to introduce himself, she’s safely ensconced back in the carriage. Her driver returns and takes the paper from Steve, tucking it into his coat.
“Apologies gentlemen, but I must be on my way.” He pulls himself back onto the driver’s box, “Have to get the young Miss home to her brother’s, you understand.”
He tips his hat, and with a tug of the reins he’s gone.
Steve finds himself standing right where she left him, feet riveted to the very spot where she once stood. He must have taken a step toward her at some point, like an utter madman, probably startled the poor girl half to death.
Despite their disastrous non-meeting, he can’t seem to shake her from his mind. As if everything had been in black and white until she stepped down from the carriage and breathed color into his world, spring bursting forth at the sound of her voice. It sounds positively insane, even to himself, but if Robin were here, she’d understand.
Hell, she’d probably have a word for it too.
Something French, inevitably.
“Mr. Harrington,” Andrew says, a hand tentatively resting on his shoulder, “Is something wrong?”
Steve blinks; a feeble attempt to clear his mind from thoughts of the mystery woman.
Andrew refrains from rolling his eyes, “Right sir, let’s get you home then.”
The journey back to the Harrington family manse was uneventful. The familiar brownstone facade came into view as Andrew swung the equipage onto the street outside the house. Luckily, the home was large enough that his late arrival wouldn’t be noticed.
He thanks Andrew and watches as he takes off with the horses for the carriage house a few blocks away. Stepping into the house, he makes quickly for his study slipping through the door just as one of the maids turns down the corridor.
Steve shucks his coat onto a nearby chair and tugs off his cravat with one hand, the other pouring a healthy portion of bourbon into a highball glass. He downs the amber liquid too quickly, the burn welcome against his throat.
After pouring another glass to sip from, he settles into a heap on a club chair by the window. Resting his jaw on a hand, he faces the glass panes, eyes trailing the flurries of snow outside, unsettled by the quiet of the street. His mind won’t stop racing, vacillating between kicking himself for not getting her name and hoping he’d run into her again, albeit this time under better circumstances.
Little did he know, that several blocks away a man was questioning poor Jesse about his whereabouts when a slip of paper was placed into his hand. He scans it quickly, face paling at the name scrawled there: Steven Harrington.
“How could you let this happen Jesse, really? The accident, I understand, but allowing my sister out of the carriage unaccompanied?”
“Sir, I had no—”
“I’ll not hear your excuses.” Christopher Fairchild balls his hand into a fist, the paper crumpling in his grasp. “You said he saw her, Harrington, that is?”
“Unfortunately,” Jesse admits, “I intervened as best I could and got her back into the coach. He seemed rather transfixed by her.”
His employer grunts, “Yes well, that is unfortunate. What if someone had seen her with that man, no chaperone in sight?” He turns to the sideboard and pours himself a drink, says with a scoff, “Not even out to society and potentially scandal-ridden.”
At this point, his wife, Marian, chooses to enter, having seen the young lady to her rooms and getting her settled for the evening. She places a tentative hand on his shoulder while Jesse trains his gaze to the floor.
“Darling,” She soothes, “Your sister is asleep as is the baby, don’t get yourself into a fit at this hour.”
He sighs as her palm moves in slow circles against his back and takes deep breaths. “Of course dear,” He sips from his drink and turns to her. “I just worry about her. All the work you’ve put into her debut and planning the ball.” Christopher places a kiss on the back of her hand, causing her to blush. “I don’t want it to be all for naught.”
She sighs prettily.
“It won’t be,” Marian advises, “You’ll write to the Harringtons tomorrow and we’ll get this matter settled. And there won’t be a speck on your dear sister’s reputation, I’ll see to that.”
But, oh dear reader, where would be the fun in that?
As we all know, the New York winter season is winding down rapidly, and do we not deserve something to keep us warm over the holiday? I would say so!
So, in honor of her long-awaited arrival, let us give a hearty New York welcome to Miss Eleanor Fairchild! Fresh from the society of Paris and a graduate of Vassar along with Miss Nancy Wheeler, her debut this week is the talk of the town.
Despite her indecorous brush with Mr. Steven Harrington, I am sure she will not have a shortage of suitors after the ball this weekend.
But the question remains, my loyal readers, of who will take a shine to Miss Fairchild and step out from the long shadow cast by the Harrington name?
Only time, and this weekly missive, will tell.
Morning in New York was startling and nothing like waking in Paris.
House maids, lady’s maids, and valets moving up and down the stairs, knocking on doors to air out the linens and draw the curtains aside to let the murky winter sun stream through. There was, of course, the soft babbling from the nursery as Gus woke from his repose, the nursemaid and his mother close at hand.
A sharp knock sounded from the door just as you drew the bedclothes closer to you, content to roll over and sleep through the gray morning.
“Bonjour mademoiselle, vous permettez?”
“Oui!” You say, curious at the chipper voice now opening the door, “Sorry, yes, you may enter.”
“Merci, mademoiselle.”
The girl, your new lady’s maid, softly shuts the door and turns to regard the room.
It’s certainly larger than what you’d grown accustomed to in France. But then again, most everything was in New York, especially so since you hadn’t returned to the city in well nigh on a year or more.
The room itself is well-appointed and elegant, Marian saw to that; soft colors and fabrics, diaphanous and frothy, a subtle nod to Versailles no doubt. You hadn’t had much time or energy to give it a glance last night, more inclined to have a late dinner, divest yourself of traveling clothes, and pass out as soon as possible.
The lady’s maid continues her silent assessment as another knock sounds from the door. She steps to open it and let in the housemaid.
“Good morning Miss,” She greets with a smile, her voice rounded with a warm Irish lilt. “I ‘spect you’ll be needin’ a fire this morning.”
You nod just now noticing the chill in the air. She busies herself with the kindling and sweeping ashes from the fireplace. The maids exchange a few soft words before she steps out to get the firewood from the Useful Man down the hall.
“Apologies,” You say by way of greeting, “But I don’t believe I got your name?”
“Oh, pardonne-moi,” the lady’s maid curtsies briefly, “Je m’appelle Marie.”
“Marie,” You repeat, “Pleased to meet you.”
“Moi aussi, mademoiselle.”
And from there, the ritual of dressing began. The house maid, Louisa, lit the fire and spirited you out of bed to air out the linens. At Marie’s suggestion, she also tackled unpacking the various trunks placed near the dresser and closet.
“These are fine frills Miss,” She smiled, her fingers delicately folding chemises and hanging skirts or dresses. “The Missus said your debut gown came all the way from Mr. Worth’s shop in Paris, is that true?”
A soft sigh escaped you at the memory, ivory chiffon and silk revealing the décolleté and arms, gauze and tulle providing a tempting illusion of bared skin. A full skirt with bustle that would skim the floor accompanied by a small train. With gloves and a fan to match, of course.
“Indeed, it is,” You allowed with a cheeky wink, “But I think Marie would have my head if I touched it before Friday.”
Marie, for her part, merely smirked and continued her preparations for your bath.
Across a few city blocks, a footman knocks on the imposing doors of the Harrington manse. The family butler, Campbell, just happens to be descending the stairs and takes it upon himself to open the door.
“Good morning sir,” The footman says with a bow, “Mr. Fairchild bid me to deliver this.” He hands over an envelope addressed to Mr. Samuel Harrington.
“Yes, well,” Campbell sighs, opening the door to let the footman in. “I’ll get this to him. If you hurry, Cook can scrounge up some coffee and a pastry for you. Just take the servant’s hall to the right.”
“Much obliged,” The footman says with a bow as Campbell starts up the stairs.
The handwriting on the envelope is neat, if a bit cramped. Must be the young Mr. Fairchild then, rather than his wife sending the correspondence.
Mr. Harrington’s study door is cracked open, the sound of papers shuffling to and fro on his desk as the butler enters. He briefly glances up to find Campbell, “Happen to know where I put those contracts, Campbell?”
“Perhaps the drawer on the left, sir.”
Mr. Harrington pulls the drawer open, “Right you are, good man.” And thereby loses himself to perusing the documents and thus ignoring Campbell.
“A letter has arrived for you sir,” He says stepping closer to the desk, “From Mr. Fairchild, it seems rather urgent. I have his footman waiting for your reply.”
“Hmm, well let’s have it then.”
He takes the letter from the butler’s hand and slips the blade of the letter opener under the paper. Retrieving the missive, he scans through it quickly, lips pulling down in distaste.
“See to it that Mrs. Harrington gets this,” He instructs, pulling out a new sheaf of paper and beginning his correspondence. “If she wishes to see my reply, she best be quick about it.”
The letter itself detailed the unfortunate meeting between Mr. Fairchild’s sister and Mr. Harrington’s only son. The man was understandably concerned about how it would seem should someone have happened upon them sans chaperone, as the young lady had yet to make her debut into society.
Mr. Harrington’s reply was cordial in an attempt to smooth things over— the Fairchilds, like the Harrington’s were of good stock, two families of the New York Four Hundred deemed to be unblemished and acceptable company by none other than the Grande Dame herself, Mrs. Astor. It wouldn’t be fitting for reputations to be sullied as the result of a simple misunderstanding.
As expected, Samuel’s wife, Amelia, swanned into the study seemingly in the midst of her morning toilette. Her hair was up, but she still wore her housecoat as her day dress had yet to be put on by her lady’s maid. Mr. Fairchild’s letter waved about in one hand, while the other pressed upon her chest as if to stop her racing heart.
“That boy of yours is going to give me heart failure.”
Samuel signs the letter with a flourish and lays his pen to the side.
“Oh, so he’s only my boy when he acts indiscreetly with the fairer sex, but he’s your son when he’s winning accolades at Harvard and breaking hearts abroad, is that it?”
She tuts and sits demurely on the divan, “Well, yes. Precisely that Sam.” She fans herself with the letter as her husband leans against his desk. “The social set have already written him off as a lost cause and we can ill afford a whisper of a scandal, especially now.”
Sam passes the reply to his wife and pauses, as if to choose his words carefully.
“Still moving forward with your plans to find Steven a wife then?”
“Of course, dear,” She answers brusquely, “There are many suitable ladies this season of decent breeding and passable looks.” She glances up and passes the letter back to him. “Your response is sufficient, send it off with the footman.”
Amelia rises from the divan and turns to leave. “Wake Steven and have a talk with him will you? I’ll send Maude out to the florist, he should write a note of apology for her to send along.”
“As you wish, dear.”
Amelia leaves just as abruptly as she appeared. Samuel sighs and furrows his brow, the inklings of a headache coming on. He taps his fingers against the desk and checks the time.
“Campbell,” He calls into the hall, “Have Calvin wake Steven and tell him to see my in the study.”
“Of course, sir.”
He takes a seat and settles himself behind the desk once more.
“And have Cook send something up? Coffee and breakfast for two.”
Awaiting the arrival of his son, Samuel Harrington turns and faces the bay of windows that look out onto the street below. He watches as Fairchild’s footman hops on the back of the coach and slides from his view. He contemplates his son’s options, admittedly there are few.
Such are the advantages and disadvantages in marrying a woman who’s as sly as a fox. It’s just a matter of out-maneuvering her; an entertaining and seemingly endless chess match that’s lasted even longer than their marriage.
But the silver lining in all this, he supposes, is that Steven Harrington, their sole child and heir, just so happens to take after his father in this respect, in that he’s crazy like a fox.
Funny how things work out, isn’t it?
As for the young Mr. Harrington, well, suffice it to say he had quite the morning. The newly arrived Miss Fairchild, however, had a luxurious start to her day (that is, if one discounts the pulling and pinning of hair, the tugging on of stockings and tightening of corset laces).
You joined your brother and sister-in-law in the dining room while another maid fixed a plate of breakfast for you; Pierce, the butler, stepped in to pour the coffee. You thanked them both and broke your fast, listening as Christopher and Marian discussed the events of the day.
“I’ll need to see to the accounts today,” Your brother said, turning his newspaper with a shake. “Everything should be in order before the ball this weekend.”
Marian nodded and sipped from her coffee cup. “I have some calls to make today, and thought Nell could accompany me.”
Christopher slowly lowers his newspaper and glances your way— don't feel obligated to do this, you haven’t been properly introduced into society yet.
Buying time, you take a bite from the flaky croissant on your plate and ruminate. In a way, both Chris and Marian are correct; you aren’t obligated to escort Mrs. Fairchild, nor would it be wise to turn down an informal introduction to those in Marian’s circle. She would, after all, be serving as your chaperone, and, along with your brother, introducing you to Manhattan high society on Friday at the ball.
Your debutante ball, to be precise.
At the time, Vassar was a welcome distraction and reprieve for being paraded around like a prize calf at auction. But then came the unfortunate illness and demise of your parents, followed by a year of mourning.
It would seem that your time of delay had finally come to its end.
After all, no one wanted a spinster for a bride.
Dabbing at the corners of your mouth with a napkin, you clear your throat and brace yourself.
“That sounds lovely, Marian. I’d be happy to escort you today.”
She smiles and makes to reply, but before she can open her mouth to do so, a knock sounds from the front door. Puzzled, the three of you glance at one another, clearly not expecting a caller at such an early hour.
Pierce nods to someone by the door, bidding him to open it. He quickly returns with a beautiful arrangement of flowers, only to set them to your right and hand you a card. Baffled, you take in the spray of purple orchids, white tulips, lemon geraniums, the sprigs of rosemary, and tucked away behind the hearty green stalks, the shy blooms of forget-me-nots.
Respect, sincerity, an unexpected meeting, remembrance, and affection.
“Well,” Marian prompts from across the table, “Who are they from?”
It’s only then that you recall the card in your outstretched hand. Slipping from your reverie, you thumb open the small envelope.
Miss Fairchild—
Please accept my sincere apologies for our run-in yesterday evening. I hope it did not startle you. I’ve liaised with your brother about the repairs, and in the meantime will give you use of my equipage and pray it will suffice. I also hope that you’ll enjoy the flowers and please know that they relay my deepest and most sincere sentiments.
Cordially yours,
Steven Harrington
P.S. Je vous prie d’accepter mes sincères regrets et ma sympathie à l’occasion du décès de votre proches.
For the remainder of the week, Steve was a bundle of nerves. He’d written the note as his mother asked and even went so far as to accompany her to the florist, managing to slip in a few blooms that complemented the arrangement nicely. And if his mother didn’t happen to notice the errant sprigs of blue or the lingering scent of rosemary, then so much the better.
What he didn’t anticipate was the lack of a response.
“It isn’t done,” Miss Robin Buckley reminded him on their promenade in Central Park. “Until she is out to society, her brother is no doubt keeping her under lock and key.”
“You could provide the introduction,” He points out petulantly. “You’re choosing not to in order to entertain yourself with my suffering.”
“You cad,” She swats at him with her fan. “And no, I cannot. There’s a reason I fled to France after my disastrous debut, as you well know.”
And thus, Steve resigned himself to pining for a woman who barely knew of his existence, while the eligible bachelors of New York bided their time until her debut at the ball.
“For what it’s worth,” Robin says carefully as they round a bend, “There have been many deliveries to the Fairchild House, but yours was the first.”
He warms at the thought.
“That has to count for something, I suppose.”
She grins, “It will.”
They continue to walk, grateful for the brief break in the weather and discuss the evening’s festivities: who will wear what, how many dances until Robin steps on someone’s toes, how ostentatious the new money Vanderbilts will be.
They exit the park, parting ways as their carriages await. Robin catches a curious expression on her friend’s face, both dreamy and apprehensive. She lays a gloved hand on his arm.
“À cœur vaillant rien d'impossible.”
Steve glances down and says with a playful smirk, “Qui vivra verra.”
On Friday afternoon, Marian and Marie carefully assess your gown while Louisa dashes to and fro with the pearls, no the diamonds.
“Sapphires? No, that would ruin the effect.” Marian muses and Marie agrees.
You, by the by, are seated on the bed in a chemise and loosened corset, bored stiff, as the two hem and haw over how to best display you for the ball.
Because that’s all this is really, an overblown dog and pony show in which you’ll be paraded around and shown off to great effect all to attract suitors. It was enough to make one queasy. God forbid a woman do anything on her own or without the approval of a man.
As if men ever did anything worth doing that a woman didn’t have to make right.
Having quite enough of their chatter, you shrug into a robe and pull its sash tight, toe on some slippers and make your way down the hall. At the end of the corridor, you spy the cracked door to Christopher’s study. He’s shuffling papers and muttering to himself as you slip inside.
“I think the accounts can handle themselves for the evening,” you say with a smirk, settling yourself on a chair by the window.
He chuckles, “I suppose you’re right, clever girl.” Sorting the papers into a single file, he looks up at you with a quirked brow. “Had enough of Marian’s prodding, I take it?”
You sigh and dramatically cast your head back, “That’s the worst of it— they haven’t even begun!” Warming at his familiar laughter, you continue: “If I’d known that this is what I’d be subjected to, I would’ve stayed in France.”
Chris studies you at that; your weary sigh, crossed arms, and face a mask. Can’t make heads or tails of if you’re serious or not. Is it too soon? Did you still need time to mourn Maman and Papa? But then your debut had been delayed so much already…
“Is that what you want?”
It’s a question you hadn’t expected from him. But suddenly you’re reminded that he’s your brother, the only family you have left in the world. The man who dropped everything and took the first ship bound for France to be with you at your parents’ deathbed. He had insisted you stay at the house in Paris until you’d recovered your own strength and sent Marian and Gus to keep you company while he saw to business at home.
And knowing him as well as you do, Chris wouldn’t ask something idly.
So you choose your next words carefully.
“I no longer trouble myself with wants.”
The lightest dusting of snow begins to gather on the windowpane. Soon enough, all of the city would look like a snow globe. A perfect winter wonderland for the evening’s festivities, and your favorite kind of weather— snow makes everything look softer somehow, muffles the sound, and blankets the world in swaths of pure white. Your mother adored snow, had somehow convinced you and Chris that she could smell when it was about to begin. And maybe that’s why you’ve taken a shine to it now.
Turning from the window with a small smile, you rise to exit the study and get ready for the night. Leaving your elder brother puzzling over your parting phrase.
Steve could hardly forget your first meeting, but seeing you that evening nearly eclipsed the recollection. Without a cape and no longer in the purples and grays of half-mourning, you were quite a sight to behold.
And he wasn’t the only one who thought so.
Several men from the club, Hargrove, Hagan, and Byers, were scattered around the room sizing up the competition just as he was. Somehow, Edward Munson had been granted an invitation— with his railroad money and lack of pedigree. Regardless of social standing, each eligible bachelor in the room was jockeying for position; who would be the first introduction, the first dance, did her eyes fall on him or the man to his left?
Steve was well-versed in this routine, he’d been to enough debutante balls to last a veritable lifetime. Usually, he’d enter and make the necessary greetings before grabbing a refreshment and picking a wall to lean on because god help him if he was going to actually dance more than the bare minimum required.
But in this instance, things were different.
Namely, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since that fateful night. Despite the lack of interest from you (which was to be expected, really), he couldn’t help but think of you fondly. Descending from your coach to check on your driver and the horses, shivering in the evening chill, voice soft and sleep-worn.
There was also the fact that his mother was hovering somewhere behind him. She’d oh so fortunately seen Mrs. Fairchild as she was making her social calls earlier in the week and had received an informal introduction to you. She’d said as much at dinner that day and ever since then, she’d been subtly laying the groundwork for a possible courtship.
And as much as Steve did not want to bow to his mother’s machinations, he also desperately wanted an introduction with you. So he sips his drink and observes the goings on around him his attention turning to the grand staircase as someone announces:
“Presenting Miss Eleanor Joséphine Fairchild, escorted by her brother Mr. Christopher Fairchild.”
The symphony starts up as you descend the stairs to polite applause on the arm of your brother, eyes demure and downcast, your subtly rouged lips pulling into a soft smile. And Steve can hardly breathe— it’s as if the world slowed and went fuzzy at the edges, everything and everyone falling by the wayside save for you.
Because you are positively incandescent; beautifully angelic in your finery and reminiscent of Venus emerging from her shell. He feels as if he’s been struck, a warmth radiating in his chest, and wouldn’t be surprised to find one of Cupid’s golden arrows lodged there. And Steve knows a little of desire, of wanton lust; he is, after all, a man of privilege in a world that caters to his whims. But while this feels reminiscent of that— the heat, the wanting— there is also, oddly, restraint.
All eyes are on you as your brother leads you across the floor, smiling politely at those assembled, eyes never staying on one person for too long. You’re playing nice, presenting an unimpeachable image of the demure lady, it wouldn’t be done to favor one gentleman this evening. In fact, it would send the wrong message entirely.
Everyone present knows this; it is a game often played in polite society, even if its ramifications are— how shall we say it?— best left behind closed doors.
“A lamb and her shepherd,” His mother says, voice pitched low for only him to hear. “Bo-Peep will soon abandon his charge, and that, Steven, is when you will make your introduction.”
It’s all he can do to school his features and recede into himself; eyes glassy and blank, face a mask. Polite and charming, affable even. And while his mother thinks she is being helpful, it’s hard not to believe she isn’t pouring poison in his ear. Half expects her to say something akin to, “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.”
She doesn’t, and for that he is grateful. Instead, she melts away into the background and loops her arm through his father’s. And, sure enough, your brother does eventually leave your side only to be replaced by Mrs. Fairchild, who slips your wrist through a dainty loop of cream ribbon with a dance card and a small pencil attached.
The room stills, a pack of wolves lying in wait. Drinks are set aside, conversations cease; Amelia gives her son an unceremonious push forward, her gloved hand on his shoulder tipping him toward the inevitable. Steve nearly stumbles from the shock of it all.
Because in one moment he’s just another man in the crowd, an eligible bachelor at yet another ball prepared to drink the night away. And in the next, his eyes lock with yours, and he feels himself falling. It’s hopeless to fight it, this gravitational pull you seem to have over him; haven’t exchanged even two words, and he’s already in your thrall.
He can see your chest rise with your sharp intake of breath, eyes widening at his approach. Steve’s trying not to spook you, really he is. He thinks back to his favored horse, Balius, the clomping hooves and fierce breaths, tries to calm you in the same manner— a slow approach, a small smile, and soft words.
And while he would never bow to the stubborn dappled stallion, Steve does bow to you and says, “Steven Harrington, a pleasure to meet you officially Miss Fairchild.”
Your eyes light in recognition, of his name or him he cannot tell. But you curtsy all the same and offer him your hand, as etiquette dictates. He takes it gladly, marvelling at the fine fabric of gloves adorning it. His finger finds the racing pulse on the underside of your wrist, running along it slowly.
Another sharp intake of breath at the sensation, a heat skittering underneath your skin as his fingers loop around your wrist, your pulse thudding in their wake.
He opens the booklet and takes his time writing his name, well aware at the gathering of eligible suitors at his back. He’s loathe to release your hand and leave you to all of this, the wolves at the gate, but as much as he wants to whisk you away from what is sure to be an uncomfortable and tiring evening, Steve is required, as is everyone else, to play the game.
And Steven Harrington is playing to win.
Mr. Harrington—
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance this past Friday, and thank you for your presence. I do hope the evening passed pleasantly for you and my apologies for not seeing to you more frequently, but other obligations, as you well know, prohibited me from seeking your company. Furthermore, I must apologize for being remiss in not offering my sincerest gratitude for the lovely flowers and the gracious use of your equipage. You are truly a generous man, and I am grateful for your friendship.
Cordially yours,
Miss Fairchild
P.S. Merci pour le sauvetage de Monsieur C—. Je n'avais aucune idée sur sa relation avec Mademoiselle C—. J’espère que vote intercession ne reflétera pas mal sur vous. Je vous suis redevable.
_
Steve’s postscript: Please accept my sincerest and deepest condolences on the passing of your parents.
Nell’s postscript: Thank you for the rescue from Mr. C—. I had no idea about his relationship with Miss C—. I hope your intercession will not reflect poorly on you. I am in your debt.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#fic: cf & dd
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NSFW
POV: Steve Harrington hitting it from the back during a thunderstorm… ⛈️
#stranger things#stranger things smut#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#video#steve stranger things#joe keery#steve x y/n#steve smut#steve x you#steve x reader smut#steve harrington x you smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x you#steve x reader#dom steve#dom!steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader smut#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x y/n smut
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Friendly
↝a/n: I'm just posting all my old fics in my notes app because I don't have any good ideas as of this moment.
↝pairing:Steve Harrington x reader
↝warning: angst, unrequited feelings, heartbreak, sad!reader, not proofread
|| Disclaimer: I do not own (character), or any character from (show, movie, etc.). I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 4.27.24
You shouldn't be here. You knew that, but you couldn't help yourself. The feelings you had for Steve were eating at you, keeping you up at night. All the time you spend together felt like torture when you thought back to them. The glanced you would spare him even though he wasn't looking. He was never looking, not like you were.
The laughing and jokes were friendly for him, something he also did with his other friends. It just felt different for you.
You tried to keep it to yourself, you really did. It just became too much. Your thoughts were overfilling your skull, spilling out of your tear ducts late at night, when you were alone in your room.
You knocked at the door before you could stop yourself.
Steve opened the door, his face turning into one of pure bewilderment. Before he could even say hello, your mouth was open, words spewing out of it like vomit.
"I know it's late but I couldn't go to sleep. I need to get something off my chest and I need you to just...listen."
Steve went to open him mouth but closed it when your eyes harshly shut, watching as you conjured up the guts.
"I love you and I need you to love me too. Tell me that your thoughts have been of me just like mine have been of you." But you didn't say that, 'cause that would be even more pathetic than showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night.
"You make me feel wanted and needed in a way I haven't felt before, and that's too much for me to have as just a friend." Your eyes opened, staring at the way his hand flexed against the door he held open.
Steve stood, shell-shocked.
"Tell me that the times you made me feel seen were you just being friendly. Please-"
"Steve?"
A head of blonde hair walked behind Steve, smiling politely at you, hand moving across the extension of Steve's back.
Your breath caught in your throat.
She leaned up to whisper something in his ear. He finally moved his gaze from your pathetic silhouette. He looked at her, his jaw slack from your confession. An absentminded nod was enough for her to sway back to where she came from, leaving you two in silence.
How does one come back from this? It is humiliating.
Steve bit his lip, scratching at his forehead.
"Can we talk about this another time?"
This time, it was your turn to be gobsmacked. You felt as if your life couldn't get any sadder.
Without a word, you turned, not knowing what you were supposed to do after confessing your feelings like that. Tears fell down your face before you were out of his driveway.
You couldn't show your face anywhere he would be. There is no way in hell.
The old feeling in your chest that told you to cherish every moment with Steve- the one that told you to reach out to hold his hand- was now demolished and replaced with regret.
This whole thing is just humiliating.
•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
#xoxo-sarah 🩷#🕶️#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#Steve harrington angst#steve harrington x reader angst#steve harrington x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things angst#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader
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careless whisper
♡ STEVE HARRINGTON'S MASTERLIST ♡
❁ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❁
﹆ Summary : you loved him with all your heart but he became unfaithful and there's nothing that he can do to mend it, is it really your last dance together?
﹆ Word Count : and again hoping it's not that too long for y'all
﹆ Warnings : 18+ MDNI‼️KingSteve! x FEM!reader, cursing, Steve and reader are both (18), unprotected sex, p in v penetration, both oral receiving, SMUT‼️, slight public sex I guess?, Steve will be so oblivious with readers feelings, cheating, unrequited love, friends to lovers, emotional abuse, tolerating, no use of y/n, not going to give any spoilers in here but beware that this will be ANGSTY!
﹆ What to Expect : SMUT‼️, FLUFF‼️, ANGST‼️, Steve and reader are the IT couple on Hawkins High, of course- by the term "King Steve" you know what that means, sorry ✌🏻
﹆ Note To Reader : Y'ALL BABY'S FIRST EVER STEVE HARRINGTON FIC!!!! AHHHHH <3 I'm so excited to spill all of my ideas about my first ever fave character from the show! and yeah I also apologize that I chose to do angst first 😔🤚🏻
﹆ Author Note : this is literally one of my favorite songs from George Michael and don't come at me, okay?!? I was just listening to this song and I was like why is this so Steve coded?!? AND YUP IT CLICKED AN IDEA!!!! ;))
Present : Prom 1984
"How are you holding up?" He asks as he tries to look at your eyes but you're avoiding it
"Been alright" you say as you look at him very briefly, your touches with him as you both swayed in the dance floor it felt different
His heart sunk when you couldn't even look into his eyes in the same way again
The eyes that are once so dreamy when you both locked in
He can tell that you're still moving on from him
He can tell that your eyes speaks louder than words
He can tell that you're still hurting because of him
Past : He shouldn't had an affair with someone else
"Diana, she isn't-"
"I know"
Steve is staggered as he swallows nervously in front of you, he wishes to be sucked down deeply on the floor and never to be seen again
He's ashamed for himself
He doesn't understand the meaning and the idea of love until it hits him like a block of bricks
And it hit really hard to the point that right after he slept with the other woman that night after the party that you both went out
He realized he made a mistake
A huge mistake that "sorry" can never undo the damage to what he has been done
Once the trust is broken it can never be fixed
You know he had a choice not to choose to cheat on you
But you laugh in disbelief as you think about it
Oh, right, he's King Steve
He doesn't know feelings and wants to keep his title to stay relevant
"W-Wait, you knew?"
"Everybody at school knows about it, Steve" you tried your very best to mask your pained expression but he can see it
The look on your face pierces right through his chest as he gulps
You have every right to be mad at him
You have every chance to shout and yell at him
But you didn't....
You talk so cold like it doesn't even matter to you
He darts his eyes everywhere in the room as he spoke again "After all this time?"
You sigh tiredly "Yeah"
He shook his head at you as he couldn't believe what you just said
"How? H-How you look-"
"What- I look what?!"
"You look...fine"
You incredulously laugh "Of course, I've had to Steve, we both got a title to keep it stable, right?" You reply to him in a mockery way as he averts his eyes somewhere else
"If you knew then why are you still with me?"
You frown at his words as you take all the courage to not breakdown at him, to not show him that you're weak but you failed since....
You love him too much that it's okay if you break apart from him
"Because I love you, Steve! Why don't you get that?!?"
Your chest heaves heavily as you try to control your breath as you cried angrily but also filled with sadness and frustration
Steve gasps, the moment you snap at him and saw you for the first time like this
You've never showed your side of vulnerability, yes, you've told him a couple of glimpses of your life but never this
Now, his eyes burned with forming tears as he tries to close his mouth in shock
You loved him? No one has ever loved him truly before
"I loved you so much that I play pretend so I can keep you!" You hiccupped into your own tears
"I loved you too" he said it out loud before he can stop himself, you saw how his eyes widens when he realizes what he just said
It's like a record scratch, you stare at him with your tear-stained cheeks as you studied his face
You blink, "What?!?"
"I've been drawn to you ever since we we're friends"
"S-Steve" you shift on your stance
"You're the only friend that I've ever had, who knows me better than I do"
You throw your palms on your face as you continue to sob
You're both dating for almost 2 years but why does he have to betray you to make him realize that he is in love just like you?
"Is this true?" You quietly say as you wipe away your tears
"Yes, it is" he walks closer to you but you moved away giving him the signal that you don't want him to hold you
"I-I tried to ignore the signs before that I thought maybe you- you just wanted this for to gain something"
What the fuck?
"Is that all really matters to you? Steve? don't you even think about how much I've suffered to maintain my sweet-like personality whenever we walked in the hallways?!?"
He thought maybe if he confessed his true feelings to you, everything will go back to normal
But it doesn't....
Not even the truth will bring the both of you comfort
Pain is all there ever is
"I've wanted to scream and I'm so tired to act like everything is okay, I really really wanted us to last, Steve"
"Turns out it was just only me who wanted to have a future with you"
The words just rolls out of your bitter tongue and it's a punch to his gut
"N-No, that isn't true" he begs
"You lost me, Steve, you had your chance and you blew it" you sniffle
Before he can say anything, you left him alone in his house as his eyes are still glued at the closed door hoping that you'll come back
But you never ever did
Future : if only he's loyal to you this wouldn't happen
You endured every single thing that his friends talked about you
Talked about, you're not fit into their world
Saying that "she doesn't belong here" but you didn't care because why?
You loved him
You love Steve Harrington despite what everyone else says
You don't care about titles
You don't care about these social cliques
You just wanted to have good friends and well, maybe love
Everybody adored you at school saying that you're the sweetest and kindest popular girl, it's actually rare for them to have those qualities because most of them are fucking assholes
You even overheard some other people like how did you even get into this situation?
Back in 1982, you're a new kid at school and you somehow manage to get into King Steve's heart without any hassle
You wished you've only stayed as friends
So, this wouldn't have hurt this much
"Steve!"
"What?"
"You know I'm ticklish!"
"I don't know" he feigns innocence and he still continues torturing you into your side as he towers over you as you lay at the grass with a blanket on his backyard
"Stop!" You say with a breathy laugh
He chuckles when you pout at him holding the both of his wrists "Okay, okay"
There's a moment that both of you halted over your silliness at each other
He never felt anything like this before
His heart is beating so loud that he could hear it throbbing on his ear
Your eyes went everywhere to his face
He is absolutely so beautiful up close like this
You're the first one to break the whatever that was
He nods as he runs his fingers through his hair as he watches you
He is so thankful that he has someone like you
You've never judged him, you let him know that emotions are valid that he can always count on you
You comforted him on his darkest days, you're the sunshine that help him to forget his absent parents
You feel so sorry for him when he told you he's alone most of the time in his enormous house
Yeah, maybe he's wealthy but he did not once felt happy until you came along
You're like an angel, he knows that he made the right decision to sit next to you at English Class, that's where it all began your newfound friendship
A part of him is afraid at that time you might back out if you found out that he's King Steve and his reputation at school
He is surprised that you didn't knew anything about him and that gives him a relief
After everything crashed down, now, you wished you knew all about him that's how he thinks about love
It's all just fun and games to him
You cursed at yourself for being so lovesick
A smile grows on his lips as watches you ate cherries on the vanilla milkshake that he make for you, it's your favorite
The whipped cream went on the sides of lips as you take a sip from the straw
He swiped it using his thumb and you blushed at his sudden action
He licked it off clean as you watch him
He catches you staring, there's a unreadable gleam on your eyes that he didn't not quite understood yet
Steve can't even register that he's moving closer to you and you froze as you hold your milkshake tightly as he cradles your cheek
He runs his tongue over his lips as his eyes stare at your rosy lips
He moves inches closer and your breath hitches, your mouth is slightly open as you look at him
He gave you one last look before he dive in
Your lips are now connected to his as he pulled you closer to him, he snatches your milkshake away as he puts it down as you start squirming and shut your eyes as you throw your arms around him
He smiles through the kiss as he deepens making you moan and his heart flutters at the sound of it, your hand crawls through his perfectly styled hair and he made a guttural groan at your move as you tug it slightly
His hands went at your waist as he squeezes it, the touch is overwhelming and your skin feels on fire everytime he grabs and graze his fingertips under over your clothed body
He slowly made you lay down beneath the blanket as you spread your legs to position himself on top of you
Your heart had never been this so fast, he tilts his head over the side as you yelp when his hands went under your skirt he starts toying with the garter of your panties, he smirks through the kiss
He cuts off your heated make out session as he removes his shirt and his eyes widens when you chase his lips as he pecks on it, you blink at his bared chest as you became flustered yet again, your fumbled panicky with the buttons of your blouse but he halted you as you let him undress you
It reveals a red lacy bra as he wolfishly whistles and you playfully slapped his chest as you duck your head down in a shy manner
God, why you gotta be so adorable?
He uses his index finger and his thumb to lift your chin to make you look at his gaze as you finally take him in
His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess and both of you are matching the same looks
The look that he's giving you, it's enough to make your mouth run dry and the wetness is pooling between your red lacy underwear
It doesn't take him too long to kiss your lips once again as he rises up slowly to undo his belt and his pants along with his boxers
He unclasps your bra as he throws on the side doesn't really matter where it lands as your hands when back onto your skirt to unzip it as you shimmy down and put it away
He reaches at your red lacy underwear but the moment he struggles to get it off, he starts to get impatient he snaps it just right about where your knees making you squeal
"I'll get you a new one, don't worry, baby" he growls as his hot kisses went everywhere on your chest and you can tell that he is hesitant to touch you
He doesn't even know if you wanted this but as if you can read his mind, the second thoughts were erased as you told him
"Steve, it's okay, you can touch me"
You breath heavily with his kneading your breasts as he plants smearing marks on your neck hitting that sweet spot making you mewl
He pats your thigh as a signal to wrap it on his hips
He holds your waist aggressively you know it will be bruised and it turns you on even more
You gasp as you can felt his tip intruding your tight hole as you can feel him entering smoothly along with your juices and arousal
It doesn't even needed a lubrication, he is drenched because of you
"Jesus Christ, y-you're dripping wet" he grunts as he watches your cunt devouring him as he can see your eyes fighting to stay open
He smirks as he fills you all the way up, you throw your head onto the side as you bit down your bottom lip
"S-Steve, please move"
He is so big to make you scream as you finally adjusted to his size and felt comfortable with pain and pleasure
He puts the other leg down as he lifts the other one as he puts over his shoulder and pulls you down closer to him that earned a whimper from you
He starts rutting in and out slowly, he hasn't even done anything and yet, it's driving you crazy
The squelching noises, the slamming back and forth with his slow pace as you start clenching around him
"Goddamn it, baby, you gotta stop doing that" his mouth is hanging open and already knows what heaven feels like
This is heaven
He doesn't ever want to leave
"M-Move f-faster" you stuttered between soft moans as you pawing at his hairy covered chest as he begins to go rough on you
Your hand flew over as you slapped and covered your mouth as your breasts start to jiggle from his movement, he tear off your hand as he pins it down
"Don't be shy on me, I wanna hear you loud and clear"
You whine and arched your back as he start to held both of your arms to go along with his neck as he pulls you even more further making him go deeper inside of you as you throw your head back and you gave him his wishes
You moaned beautifully as he devilishly smirks as he kisses you again but this time is filled with lust and teeth began to clash
Your whole body feels lumpy as both of you went back down as he raises both of your arms over the top of your head as he pounds at you placing kisses all over your face
You watch him down below as he fucks you ramming his way so easily
Your eyes rolls back as your high pitched moans went "ah-ah-ah" he feels so fucking great to hear those coming out of you because he's the one that made you feel like this
"So tight, baby, you're killing me"
"S-Steve, don't sto-p"
You wrap your legs around him as you tangle at him along with his body to push him down
"Oh shit!" he exclaims as his eyes darkens
You giggle but the time when he fingers touched your clit and you shudder
"Not so funny are we now, baby?" He bullys your clit earning a lewd noises falls from your lips
You nod at him pathetically as you matched his movements making him chuckle darkly
He lets go of your hands as he hooks his hand under your knees as he sheathes himself inside of you
You started babbling at him saying "S-Steve- fuck! That's it right there!" You shouted out loud but not without a moan
Yes, this is what he wanted
Let the neighbors hear you that he's the one who giving you this sweet pleasure
He thrusts as you shake your head begging for a release
"Yes, baby, I know, just let it go, I got you"
"ah-Steve!-oh"
You moan wildly as you chant his name as you came undone
He spills his load painting your flesh walls white
Your legs are trembling and you're shaking badly as he lazily smile as his spent body went boneless on top of you
You embrace him with your warmth along with your tangled legs as you kept him in place
His eyes go big when he realizes he had done something, you felt him became tense as you hold him softly by his shoulder blades
Despite, the fiery sex that you just both had, you're still in that haze but you remembered that both of you just did that on his backyard is making you feel fuzzy
He carefully rips himself off of you as he start scrambling to get on with his boxers
You immediately missed his scent on you
You furrow your brows as you watch him run off with that worried look on his eyes
You didn't have the time to wear your discarded clothes as you chose to grab his towel that is hanging around the lounge chair that he uses when he wants to take a dip from his swimming pool, you covered it with your naked body
"Steve! Wait- what is it?" You asked him with concern his heart feels booming inside of his chest by the tone of your voice
You really did care about him
This is all too good to be true
You followed him as he moves the sliding the door as he went outside he stopped once he's in there
You stare at behind his back and insecurities are now lurking in the shadows
Did he regret it?
Just run off and never look back save yourself from rejection
But you didn't instead, you touched his shoulder softly as he melts with it, you call out to his name again, you swore you heard him crying
He slowly turns his body around facing you and now you met Steve's eyes with threatening tears that are about to fall
"O-Oh my god, Steve? Are you okay?- Tell m-"
"W-We didn't use protection- and I-" he croaked up in his own tears
"I came inside of you and I didn't even asked you first that if you wanted this to happen" he motions at the two of you and you can see the guilty look from his eyes as he rests his forehead against with yours
Your eyes softens as it starts become glossy
Did he ruin your friendship?
Did he broke the last precious thing that meant a lot from him?
"Steve, it's fine, I've wanted you to"
His blinked the tears away just to see your face clearly
"Y-You wanted it?" He says as he holds your hands raising it closer to his face as he kisses it
You take a deep breath through your nose as you brave enough to confess your feelings
"I wanted you more than as a friend, Steve"
The swallows the lump on his throat as his chest eases out from tension
"The truth is that I love you, Steve" a fallen tear as you smile at him
Your eyes are shining with so much affection that he doesn't have before and it scares him
He shakes his head in disbelief as he watches you hug him
"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted you to know that I do, I am really in love with you"
He squeezes his eyes shut to your words as he hugs you tightly as he rests on the crook of your shoulder
He finally got what he wanted all of his life
Until, he realizes it was too late
He was too late for him to figure it all out, when you finally made up your mind that you want him in the first place
You loved him too early, he loved you too late
Aftermath : you can't ever lie to yourself that you still want him after how he treated you harshly
As much as you wanted to cling on to him and keep things the way they were
You know what's best for you
You know it's the right thing to do
You know deep down to your soul that you don't want this to end
But this is all too much for you, too much for you to bear
The agony, pain, sorrow, disappointment, heartache, if you continue this, you will be miserable
You want it keep it going, hell, if he asked you to marry him, you would, fuck, he might not even finished saying the lines, you will say "yes" to everything
But his heart is elsewhere, his mind is remains afloat
You got your heart and your soul devoted to him, you gave your most sacred value, your body
Only to be wasted to be washed away down the drain
But still, you've never regret doing it to him,
But no matter what you do, no matter how many times he apologizes to you, sure, you can see it that he despised his fault for your failed relationship
It isn't feel right and it isn't working
You can't see and look at him in the same way before, all you can see is....
It's deceitful, it's making you so angry but you will never show how hot-headed you are
Because, yet again, you loved him, no matter how you wanted to scratch his face out of madness
He is intimidated by your whole sense of nonchalant micro expressions but he knows behind that mask
You're upset
You know it yourself that you've done everything that you could ever give to him
You conclude in your own thoughts alone that you aren't enough for him
There might be sprinkle of insecurity that you wanted to brush it off but that's what you feel
You supported him, take care of him, you've been a good listener, you've been a loving girlfriend of his that in other people lenses
You're just an eye candy
Now, you understand what you've gotten those sympathetic eyes on you at school
Because this is all what comes down to....
You're just another girl that he got himself a jackpot to his prize
Just another trophy to his collection that he just....slept with you and he'll do it again after to the next girl that he got eyes targeted
Despite at how brutal that sounds
You will always love him
Back to Prom 1984
You can feel everyone's eyes on the both of you
You're dancing together at the center of the dance floor
They knew about you and Steve's relationship and the infidelity that he has done
They knew about the bond that is going to fall apart
Steve thought that the music is far from being too loud, he is getting overwhelmed by it, he wants to turn it off and leave the premises with you where he feels safe
Now, he is slipping off with your delicate fingers, the only sanctuary that he has ever given and he knows that he is fucking lucky to have you
He wished that the both of you could lose this crowd
"Let's go outside"
"N-No, S-Steve- No"
He ignores your protests and he tugs at your hand leading you out of the dance floor as he tries to scrape you off your feet and dragged you outside
The students starts whispering all around
He is surprised that you let him hold you
You let him intertwined your hands with his
He pushes you outside first slowly and he closes the door behind him, the music blurs out
You wrap your arms around yourself the night chilly air hits your delectable skin as the fairy lights from the streets makes you look glowy
He sadly sighs as he finally had the chance to look at you like this again
This is the only time that he saw what's in your eyes, god- is this what he trying to dodge? what is he thinking? all he wanted is to punch himself for cheating on you
All he can see the remnants of your undying love to him on your eyes but also mixed with a cloud of gloominess
He fucked up big time
He removes his coat as he tries to give it to you
"I don't want your coat" you step away as you sternly look at him
He ignores again, your remark as he places his coat around you
"What should I do to gain back your trust, please tell me" his hazel eyes pleads for you and your eyes burning from the tears forming
Your chest tightens, you don't want to have this conversation again
You know it'll ended up so raw and you feel exposed by your feelings and the worst case
The transparency of your emotions
The seconds as he awaits for your reply, the music from the gymnasium dies
You look at him that he doesn't ever wanted to see
It terrifies him horribly as he begins to cry in front of you as you did too
"Oh, god- please no" his voice starts breaking and your heart shattered at the sound of it
He knows exactly the meaning behind your melancholic eyes
It's all sad goodbyes
"Steve, maybe it's better this way" you say as you held his cheeks as he presses himself against it at the palm of your hands as he kisses it
"No, it's not-"
He knows that you aren't a fool to this any longer, he knows what's about to happen but he can't help but beg for you to not leave him
You rip your hand out of his cheeks as he already misses your touches
You hated how fast you feel powerless over him whenever you talked to him like this
You hated how easily that he can get to touch like nothing happened
But, not this time, not anymore
You're trusting your gut, you listen to your inner voice
"Steve! If we pick up where we left off, we'd just end up hurting ourselves and it will hurt a lot more of the things that we wanted to say to each other"
"Don't say it like that- I promise that'll be better, I'll prove it to you"
You slam your lips over his and he can't help but feel the same butterflies on his stomach that he once ignored, you kissed him like it was your last breath
There's a voice inside of his head that says he something is bad is about to happen
God, if he could only turn back the time and he'll make things right
"Don't let this get over with your head, I am giving you one last dance, one last touch and one last kiss"
"N-No, please- don't let go-"
"I'm saying that this is goodbye, Steve"
"W-We could've have been so good together, we could've have this dance forever"
You smile sadly, "I wish you thought about that before you crossed me" he watches you as you take off his coat from your shoulders
Your heels hits the pavement as it starts clicking as you walked away from him
He chases you as he hugged you from behind, you breakdown in tears again, he rests his head over your shoulder as he sniffled
"Please stay"
"You will always have my heart, you know it belongs to you ever since, Steve, and I'm always going to love you, but I have to go" you caressed his hand as you remove yourself from him as you take a look at him one last time
"I love you Steve Harrington, thank you for giving me how betrayal feels like" you humorlessly chuckle as he runs his hands over his face, he keeps shaking his head sideways
You kissed his cheek as he watches you with those tired eyes, of course, you can notice everything, the dark circles surrounding his eyes
He hasn't gotten any sleep like you do
He can't sleep properly because of you
His mind and his heart screams at you
He wants you back on his life, but now, he's alone again
He hates himself and he knows what he did is unforgivable and unforgettable
"I'll miss you, take care okay?" You choke in your own tears as you fixed his hair for the last time, the kind gesture that he always admired, he can't believe that this is the last time
He holds both of your shoulders "I can't never love again, I only want you"
Your heart cracks piece by piece to his words
The time is running out, you need to move
"If you really love me you have to let me go, Steve"
He begrudgingly loosens his hold on you as he watches you walking towards your car, his eyes are fixated on you and you know it
You badly wanted to look at him again, but you decided against it, you don't even wanna leave him like this but it had to be done
He cries standing all alone on that night
You cried while driving home as your knuckles turn white as you grip on the steering wheel
He knows for a fact that he will never gonna dance again
The way he danced with you
#Spotify#steve harrington#steve harrington supremacy#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem#george michael#careless whisper#1980s#agirlwholovesrockstarsfics
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For the smutty weekend!!! Need to know how Baron, Gator and Steve would react to them orgasming quickly :) would they be embarrassed, defensive or just roll with it?
I honestly think they’d all have a similar reaction, not embarrassed but just in disbelief and awe of you, but for the sake of some juicy smut, here’s different imaginations 😮💨🤭✨
CW; oral (m receiving), slight degradation, mention of ownership 😮💨
Gator;
“Takin’ it so fuckin’ good, darlin’ -“ Gator grunted into your ear as he kissed the lobe messily. When you responded with a sweet whine, his eyes rolled back into his head; pushing himself up onto his knees and settling his hands under the backs of yours. Pushing your knees back as far as they could go, a lower groan would leave his lips as he looked down at you. You were laying there so beautifully, eyes glassy as you took every hard hit he gave you. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, whines, and the dirty slick sounds of his fucking into you.
“You’re givin’ it so good - make it yours -“ You’d whine, knowing his need for ownership and authority is a sweet spot that only you know how to press into.
And that was all it took; his hips stilling as the throbbing took over and he came quicker than he usually did. He almost curled over as he moaned through gritted teeth, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.
“Fuckin’ damnit. Cunt’s too good, honey.” Gator would chuckle breathily after a moment, sitting back down on his knees. You’d whine again as you laid and just felt him twitching inside you softly realising just how good he always managed to degrade and praise you. He’d look down at his cock still inside you, as his own cum spilled out around his base; causing him to twitch up inside you sensitively. But when you’d whimper and look up at him with desperation rolling around the irises of your eyes, he’d smirk.
“Need more darlin’?”
Steve;
“What’re you doing? Fuck - no - baby I need to -“
Though Steve was stuttering and seemingly objective to the dangerous idea you’d had, he took one hand off the steering wheel to help you unbutton his jeans.
“Just watch the road and don’t get us killed, yeah?” You’d say sweetly, kneeling over the console in his car and pulling his cock free from the denim entrapment. After he’d taken a quick glance at you to see if you were kidding - and wasn’t - he nodded. Immediately you’d get to work, lips wrapping around his head and sucking softly, only bobbing lightly as you felt the car swerve ever so slightly with the lack of Steve’s concentration.
“Need to pull over - god I need you -“ He’d mutter under his breath as he hissed, braking at a red light and the sudden halt pushing his cock further into your throat. He let out a guttural groan as his hands scooped up your hair, pulling it into a messy ponytail in one hand and pulling his jeans down a little further with the other.
“Find somewhere.” You mumbled, pulling off only for a moment to catch air before swallowing him down again desperately, a light moan reverberating around his cock as he tugs your hair tighter in his fist, finally driving again as the light turned green.
“Fuck - we’re in the middle of fucking - Jesus Christ baby - in the middle of nowhere - can’t -“ Steve rambled, a tone of frustration to his voice as he unintentionally accelerated the car; hips threatening to buck up into your mouth as you sucked harder and giggled around him.
“Baby - don’t - fuck - I’m gonna come - no it’s-“ Steve was on the verge of crying as he bit his lip so hard it was about to tear between his teeth, his hand gripping your hair so tightly it evoked a whine out of you as you felt the first ribbon of spend hit the roof of your mouth. Steve wanted to squeeze his eyes shut so bad, praising whatever deity there was out there as another red light glowed ahead. Just as the car stopped, he finally bucked his hips up against your tongue, emptying the rest of himself entirely into your eager mouth.
“Your fucking giggle, baby…” He sighed as he caught his breath, eyes glued hazily to your face as you sat up and back in the passenger seat with a smug smile.
“Couldn’t wait to pull over, no?” You’d taunt, buckling up your seatbelt again. He’d shake his head, his cheeks and neck flushed pink as he looked over at you with almost disbelief.
“You’re just - you are something else.“ He kept stuttering, and you smile at his flustered state, leaning over again to kiss his cheek.
“Better be ready for when we get out of this car, Harrington.”
Baron;
“I can’t see you - I - oh - where’s the -“
“Just press the green button, sweetheart.”
You’d gifted your love a new phone, getting sick of hearing him tripping over his landline cord when you tried to talk to him on the phone. Here he was attempting to FaceTime you for the first time. As soon as his camera was finally on, all you could see was the bridge of his nose.
“Move back you fool, look at me.”
You’d say with a giggle, which slowly stopped as he pulled the phone back so you could see his entire upper half this time and he realised what was happening. Thighs straddled across each side of a cushion, you were perched in just a bra and panties, phone rested against the wall.
“Am I seeing angels baby or do you got nothin’ on?” Baron whispered, his voice strained as his eyes kept squinting and blinking something silly; trying to come to terms with the pretty sight on this little screen.
“Little bit o’ both. You like it?” You’d say back, smiling sweetly at his reaction. Bracing your hands on the cushion, you’d grip it tightly between your thighs as Baron’s eyes widened, understanding fully now what was happening.
“Is that - my -“
“Your shirt? Mhm.”
He’d left his gray shirt at yours accidentally, spilling so much ice cream down it that you’d offered to wash it for him. And you had. But it still smelled like him after, and you wanted to show him how much you missed him. Now it wrapped around this cushion. Comfortably snug right between your legs.
“Oh lord…gi’ me strength…” He mumbled lowly, close to growling as he watched you begin to grind your hips slowly. His eyes looked down at where your barely clothed core ground down against the thin fabric of his shirt, mouth agape.
“You wanna know something?” You’d purr softly, crawling towards your phone and grabbing it. He’d be speechless, but the way you could tell he liked this was, his other hand had reached underneath the view of the camera, to which you could only guess he was palming himself to you as he nodded.
“Made a mess once already.”
“Oh god…” He’d moan, his eyes hooded slightly as you got back onto the cushion and tilted the camera down, showing the dark gray patch on his shirt between your legs.
“Needed you so bad, Baron, couldn’t stop thinking about grinding on your pretty face, those pretty lips honey - my god-“ You’d say saccharine sweetly, and his eyes would roll back at your tone.
“Baby - you - you’re makin’ me -“ He cried out softly, whimpering a little as he lost grip of the phone and it fell to what you guessed was his side. You could just about make out his chest heaving as his hips bucked up against his hand. He was coming, and so quickly, so desperately.
“Baron?” You’d say, the sound of your voice through the phone making him jump a little. He picked it up, but the visuals were shaky - his hands trembling at whatever the hell just happened.
“God must’a put some kinda curse on me with you…you’re a little devil, got me all - messy and -“ You held back a giggle as he rambled on in a post orgasmic haze, knowing you needed to call him more often now.
#s/s weekend#reusing the same photo and what#steve harrington smut#gator tillman smut#baron smut#baron lamram#steve harrington#gator tillman#stranger things#fargo#asks#i’m feral#marmalade#baron x you#steve harrington x you#gator tillman x you
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Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget Me
Gates Of Hell
Word Count: 9.2k
Warnings: mentions of death, violence, claustrophobia, lotsssssss of angst - i am the real monster, gun use,
steve is adorable as usual and y/n is... she needs help, my girl is going through it
[A/N: It's 3am and I thought it was a great time to rewrite the ending so if it's bad, that's why. In all seriousness, I am so thankful to everyone who has an insane amount of patience. I am currently on my last few months of uni so it's been hectic but I do still love writing this fic, I just haven't had time :( I hope the weeks of waiting were worth it?
To sum up this chapter... I have officially decided I am incapable of happiness... anyways, enjoy!]
Don't Forget Me
The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me.
Ever since those words slipped from your mouth, the realisation was striking the remaining tethers to your sanity.
The radio had cut out a while ago, leaving a long strand of frustrating static in the air. You couldn’t find yourself to care about that right now. Something wants you here. Why?
As it turns out, you weren’t the only one wondering.
“This monster is running around making gates, and following you? Why you?” Steve had attempted to reclaim the radio signal once it had blared incomprehensible static, but he had no such luck. Instead, he turned back to you, feeling sick at the haunted look on your face.
“I don’t know.” You say quietly, staring down at the damp map lying on the rocky floor in front of you.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Steve states, squinting at the small building your finger currently rested on.
“I’m aware of that.” You sigh, rubbing your temple.
“But you still think you’re the pattern we can’t quite figure out?”
“I don’t know, Steve!” You suddenly snap before the colour drains from your face. You didn't mean to do that. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s too specific to only be a coincidence. I just don’t know why.”
Steve slowly nods, cautious of the way you were tucking your hands into your sleeves, obviously trying to hide their uncontrollable shaking.
“Is it to do with the virus?” He asks, the question tasting like poison on his tongue.
The virus is almost covering you now, creeping up your jaw. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, and Steve had already seen it. Already the venom was influencing you more than you had expected.
“I don’t think so.” You shake your head, mindlessly flexing your fingers.
“Then what’s different?” He looks at you with a soft frown, a look you’ve seen more in the past few days. “If not the virus, what else could it possibly want with you?”
You start to shrug, conditioned to feel like you were in the dark. Since finding the others in the lab, it had become increasingly clear that you were an outsider to their heroic group. You weren’t there when El was first discovered, completely unaware that the small girl adopted into your family was a superhero in her own right. You didn’t fight a demogorgon, or protect the kids from danger, and you especially didn’t save the world.
But this wasn’t about them anymore. This was about you. Your connection. And with all you’ve been through in the last month, you’re the only one who could solve this mystery.
Your breath catches in your throat and Steve finds your eyes, questioning.
“The dust…”
The giant shadow of a monster you had seen before was looming over what used to be the police station. It didn’t have eyes, nor even a face, but you knew it was looking directly at you.
And you felt paralysed.
You watched as it held out an arm… or was it a leg? Whichever, it pointed at you, something fluttered around its shape. Some kind of dust. Black dust.
Everything in you told you to run, but you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. The dust approached closer, slithering along the ground like vines. And you stared, heart jumping into your throat…
Wisps of wind trailed past your ears, unheard from the heartbeat thrumming against your eardrums until it became louder. It wasn’t just wind… it was voices. Incomprehensible murmurs swirling around you.
Until it wasn’t so incomprehensible any more.
“Tell her”
“Dust?” Steve frowns, tensing his shoulders. “You mean the Mind Flayer?”
“That night the shapeshifter separated us.” You start nodding, absent-mindedly moving closer to him. “I remember escaping the arcade and then…”
“Then?” He prompts, a hushed tone to both of your voices despite the privacy of the rocky ledge.
“I saw the Mind Flayer.” You say and he feels a chill run down his spine. “It- I couldn’t move. And these, like, scary images were in my head before I had this really intense nightmare. The next thing I knew, you were there and I wasn’t stuck anymore.”
“You were in some kind of trance. It took me a while to get you out of it.” He recalls, nodding slowly. Even the memory made his stomach clench. “What did you see? The images?”
“Hawkins.” You lower your eyes, slumping back against the hard rock, “It was… it was like it was on fire. Nothing looked the same. There was this giant gap and-and so many monsters. People… bodies.”
“An apocalypse.” Steve finishes for you and you nod your head, eyes squeezed shut.
“If we don't stop whatever it is opening these gates, Hawkins is going to burn.”
Your words struck a chill down his spine, the fear in your eyes evident even as you try and avoid looking towards him. There was a scared determination in the way you started down at the map. It was almost as if Steve could feel the waves in your brain radiating with an idea.
That's cute, Steve thought as you bit your lip in concentration. Adoring you felt better than the dread of an apocalypse.
“I'm going to the motel.”
Steve’s head almost snapped off his neck in the miniscule amount of time it took him to react, staring at you like you were crazy. You are crazy.
“Are you crazy?!”
He expected some sort of retort, or an ounce of an amused grin on your lips. But you only nodded.
“We know this thing is there. If I can catch it, kill it, whatever, I can save whoever is left. This is my chance to stop it.”
You were being reasonable, offering a calm take on the situation with a decision you were ready to face. Steve, on the other hand, took your proclamation as an act of war.
“If you think for one second I’m gonna let you get yourself killed, you’re outta your mind.” He says with a stern face, prompting your brows to scrunch together.
“Funny, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” You shot back and he shakes head in disbelief.
“Y/n, this isn’t just some fun little holiday where you can do whatever you want. You’re gonna walk into a literal death trap!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the panic was already settling in and taking control.
“There is something there that’s been following me, following us! Don’t you want to figure it out? End all of this?!”
“Whatever it is has been managing to rip a gap between worlds with its mind! It’s mind, Y/n!” He stressed, expressing himself with his hands, “I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that and neither do you!”
“What does it matter? I’m dead either way!”
You can see him pale in front of you, sucking in a breath.
“Don’t say that.” He whispers out, a quiver in his bottom lip and you hate yourself. Why did you have to hurt the people you loved?
“It’s true, Steve. I’m already out of time.” You tilt your head, a clash of lightning above illuminating the veins that slithered along your jaw. “I want to find whatever it is poisoning our town and I want to destroy it before…”
“Before what? It spreads to other towns?” He frowns, running a hand through his hair. “It’s made it pretty clear it only wants Hawkins-”
“Before it gets you.” You finish, staring up at him. If you looked in his eyes any longer, you would see your reflection, a reminder of what he was scared to lose, but that you were willing to sacrifice.
“We know there’s a pattern. And now we know it’s me. And… and I don’t know why, but it wants me. This virus is barely hours away from reaching my brain and honestly now is the perfect time to finally figure all this shit out and face it.”
“And if you get killed?” His voice cracks and you bite your lip, pretending like you didn’t know the answer when all you could think about for the past three weeks was the inevitable.
“Like I said,” You gulp, forcing yourself to hold eye contact. “I’m already out of time.”
“What about your dad? Robin? All of those little shitheads who clearly adore you-”
“They don’t need me, Steve.”
“I do.”
“No you don’t.” You shake your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “You’ve been doing this shit long before I was ever in the picture. If anything, I’ve just ruined it-”
“Why do you do that?” He cuts you off, flickering between your eyes with a look of concern. “Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”
“Steve-”
“No, I wouldn’t have survived this thing without you here. Neither of us would have survived...”
When his voice trails off, you watch him scrunch his face and take a deep breath. He walks away from you, running a hand through his hair. He was thinking, struggling to make a decision. But he always did, and it was always the right one.
“You’re not going to listen to a word I say, are you?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder. You silently shake your head, seeing no reason to prolong this fight. “Fine.”
“Fine?” You repeat, unsure you heard him right.
“I can’t stop you.” He shrugs, sniffing back the emotions lingering at the back of his throat. If he couldn’t convince you, he would just have to make sure you knew you weren’t alone. “But I can help.”
“Wait, no-”
“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”
A flash of surprise hits your face as Steve breathes heavy, not giving you another second to try and convince him to let you go. You had to understand that he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go. No matter how many times he lived through that scenario in his head, replaying the scene as if you disappearing would leave his heart intact, he just couldn’t do it. Steve knew it was foolish to expect a different ending, but surely he was allowed to have hope.
Was it hope?
Or was it something he refused to see for what it truly was?
A delusion.
“If this thing is really opening the gates, why don’t we, like, make it open another one?”
Steve’s question hangs in the air when he shakes the thought away, realising the obvious answer before the last word even left his lips.
The ground coughed out a soft crunch beneath your footsteps, trailing beside Steve through the twisted crops of Merril’s farm. Even in the Upside Down, the field didn’t differ visually from the real thing. You remember when the crops started to degrade, Merrill grumbling about his neighbour poisoning them. The dispute had been entertaining to you. But now you knew the truth, it didn’t seem so funny anymore.
“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you trip over a vine, managing to regain your balance.
“What’s wrong?” Steve is by your side at an instant, brown eyes laced with worry scanning you.
“Nothing, just tripped.” You dismiss, frowning at the vine behind you. A shudder rolls down your back when you think you can see it moving, but the clash of lightning above was probably playing tricks with the light.
As you go to take another step, your vision blurs. You try and blink it away, rubbing at your eyes. There’s an unsettling rush of heat beneath your skin, scorching your nerves. It should be cause for panic. But you’ve been through this before. Your only fear was knowing you weren’t hiding it anymore.
“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve quickly grabs onto your shoulders and you blink as he catches you before gravity took you victim. You didn’t even realise you were falling. “Hey, you okay?”
No. Steve already knew that. How could you possibly be okay when the virus was slowly closing in on you?
“Just… give me a minute.” You catch your breath, trying every technique to stabilise your heart rate as you fall into a squatted position. You hated that this thing was slowing you down, and you hated being out in the open like this, knowing that because of you, the both of you were going to be in more danger than necessary.
Steve stands by your side, slowly sliding the bag from his shoulder to fish out his bat, hand wavering over the metal weapon resting below. No. That was for emergencies. This was just his paranoia setting in.
“Nice day, huh?” Steve offers when the silence became unbearable, making you laugh. He smiles. He loved making you laugh.
“I’ve seen worse.” You reply, standing back up and taking another breath, slow and easy. “Okay, I think I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“M-hm.” You nod, a small smile gracing your face as you adjusted your bag and found rhythm between your footsteps once again.
It was getting scarier, the time between your virus lapses decreasing more and more. You weren’t ready to turn into one of those things. No one could be.
How would I stop myself from killing?
Your eyes drift over to the boy next to you, his admirable determination guiding you both through the farm like it was his life’s mission.
What if you took his life?
You snap your head away, focusing on your breaths. One breath in. Hold. One breath out.
Will I have to watch myself murder innocent people?
One breath in. One breath out. One breath in-
“Y/n?”
Sometimes the dim light of the Upside Down was a blessing. The low exposure shielded you from seeing the way he looked at you; with concern, sadness, pity. You found it hard to be so vulnerable like this. You didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. You barely allowed yourself to be perceived unless it was for all the wrong reasons.
It was a stupid stupid habit to bear such hatred towards yourself for feeling. But this is how you been for years now. You weren’t sure how to be any other way.
“You’re suspiciously quiet.” Steve comments, attempting to lighten the dreary mood. “Not that I’m complaining. Finally, some peace.”
“Rude.” You reply almost instantly, unable to resist the smile pulling at your lips.
Steve hated how dark it was in the Upside Down. Without much light, he was unable to study your features in times like this, to watch the joy return to your eyes after weeks of torment.
But even in the dark, he knew exactly how much hurt you were hiding beneath that worn-out mask of yours.
“Seriously. What’s on your mind?” Steve asks you as he scrunches his face in disgust as the tip of his shoe brushes against the pile of inedible black mush that once was a pumpkin.
“Other than monsters, the apocalypse, and my general state of being?” You smirk at him, but he already sensed your hesitancy.
“Yeah, the important stuff.” He shrugs with a chuckle.
I’m scared if you don’t run away, I might hurt you.
You shake your head free of intruding thoughts, focusing on the ones that sparked unusual butterflies in your stomach.
“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”
“Um, you said something earlier. Back at the quarry.” You force yourself to keep walking, trying to hide the smile in your voice.
“Like what?” He blinks innocently. A jolt of anxiety rushes through your brain.
Oh god, what if he didn’t mean it? He could have just gotten confused, or caught up in the intensity of it all and you were about to embarrass yourself for ever thinking differently.
As painful as it is, that option was probably the best one. Maybe then it’ll make it easier when the virus destroys you.
“You, um… you called me your… girlfriend.” You almost cringe trying to finish what you started.
Steve almost trips, looking like a deer in headlights.
“Oh. That.” Steve lets out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh… you know, it was just, uh…”
“Heat of the moment?” You offer quietly and he clears his throat.
“Yeah, right. Heat of the moment.”
“Yeah, of course. That’s- that’s what I thought it was.” You shake your head, wanting to move on from this subject as quickly as you could. “Just wanted to be sure.”
“Would it… would it be so bad if it wasn’t just the, uh, heat of the moment?” Steve suddenly asks.
You go quiet. Too quiet. And Steve clicks his tongue.
“Oh.”
“No, I didn’t mean-” You scrunch your eyes shut, footsteps slowing to a complete stop. “It just doesn’t feel right to say it.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Of course it does. Nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life, you want to scream, seal it in stained ink. But you had to look at the reality. You were going to die. You just wanted to make it as emotionally painless as you could.
“We’re not… we aren’t meant to be together, Steve.” You lie straight through your teeth, avoiding his eyes.
Steve scoffs, a hand on his hips as he looks at you in disbelief. “Yes, we are.”
“No. We’re not.” You say with a little more conviction, shaking your head. “This. Us. It’s not… how do we even know it’s real?”
When you avoided his eyes for a little too long, his hands find your face, cupping your cheeks to gently tilt your head to look at him. You just softly take them away, but he never lets go of your hands.
“If the gates hadn’t opened that day in detention… we never would have even looked at each other again.” You say, sadness coating your voice.
“But it did happen. And I’m looking at you right now. We got through it. Together.”
“We survived together. We- we relied on each other because we literally had no one else to.” You frown, shrugging it away as if your own words weren’t hurting you. “We went through literal hell and that’s what we bonded over. We don’t- How can you say this is real when we’ve been faking it all since day one? Let’s just be honest, it’s not gonna go any further so let’s save us both some time-”
“You’re doing it again.” He interrupts, his gaze on you unwavering.
“I’m not doing anything-”
“You’re pretending like you don’t care.”
You don’t respond.
“I care. A lot. Probably too much for it to just be a- a survival bond or whatever you said. And it’s definitely not fake.” He lets out a soft laugh, heart racing faster. “Actually… I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt something so real with someone before. It’s like- like breathing. You know? I can’t breathe without your stupid cute little face in my head or your annoying voice making me feel calm, or-or even this right here, your delusional belief that someone can’t possibly be in love with you which makes me want to just shake it out of you because it’s true, Y/n. It’s real. I’m in love with you, okay?”
Your mouth parts in silence, just looking at him, stunned. You were only trying to convince some excuses, to try and make it easier when it all inevitably ends. But you hadn’t really taken into account how much you both felt. And now everything was going to be so much harder.
“So, uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, releasing you from his hold and shrugging. “Just accept it.”
You both stand there for a moment, reliving his words. I’m in love with you. Steve doesn’t regret it, but he starts to feel nervous the longer you don’t say something.
“Can you… can you promise me something?”
Steve holds his breath. He knows what you’re going to ask. And he knows that no matter how many times he runs through that scenario in his head, he never pulls the trigger. He won’t take your-
“Don’t forget me.”
It wasn’t the promise he was expecting, brows furrowing with the intention of your words. He just wants to hold you, yell at you until you understood he couldn’t leave you behind, he wouldn’t let the virus take you. He’d find a cure, make one if he had to.
But he didn’t have time to figure out where to start because he was suddenly very aware you were both out in the open. And something was rustling the leaves, watching.
He quickly raises his bat, eyes focused. He can just make out a shadow, making him squint. Probably just another demodog, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.
Except it’s taller. Almost… human?
And then he sees the glowing eyes, the gaping mouth. It was the screaming monster from the Radio Shack.
“Steve?” You frown once you catch it too, looking at him, waiting for his call.
“Once it screams, we run. Every monster and their mother is gonna hear it, and we need to get out of the open, fast.” He hisses between his teeth as he watches the creature weave its way through the trees, drawing closer.
“And lead them all straight to the motel?” You whisper back at him, and his face pales. There goes that plan.
“Shit.”
“What about that house?” You suddenly ask, tilting your head to your left. “The huge one on that hill? It’s the opposite direction from the motel and the closest thing-”
“Oh, god, no.” Steve breathes out, shaking his head with determination. “Remember what Robin called it? You do not enter a house called the murder house. Especially when you’re being chased by murderous flesh-eating monsters!”
“It’s pretty much our only choice right now.” You stress, the small hairs on your arm prickling the closer the creature gets. “We run through, slip out the back, and tail it to the motel before it’s-”
If Steve had any objections, you never heard them. All you heard was the terrifying scream rippling from the unhinged jaw of a ghostly woman.
“Run, run!” You yell, already feeling the effects of an ear-splitting pitch.
Steve immediately grabs your hand and you run, blindly trusting the boy you had assumed your enemy for 4 years of your life.
He wasn’t sure if you’d both be able to get inside in time, fully away of the hoard of monsters emerging from the shadows and chasing you down. It was a risky bet, this house. But you were right. It was the only option.
If Steve wasn’t so adamant on moving fast, he might have felt the soft tug of your arm as your body struggles to keep up, the stretch of the hill proving the laws of physics were never your friend. As long as your hand was in his, you were going to be fine.
The harsh creak of rotten floorboards as Steve barrelled into the room echoed menacingly in his ear. He quickly dropped your hand, pulling you behind him and making haste of tugging a tall and heavy cabinet down so it blocked the entrance. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would give you both enough time to slip out unnoticed.
“That should keep them back, we gotta-”
Steve expected to find your hand as he reached back for you, but the space was bare. He spins around, stomach lurching when he finds you’re already sat against the wall, looking worse every second.
“No.” He drops to his knees and cups your head in his hands when you struggle to keep it up, swallowing his anxiety, “No, hey, sweetheart, hey. Look at me.”
Your weary eyes meet his and his breath hitches. The black veins were now creeping up your cheeks, spreading quicker in the past few hours than they ever had before.
A sudden chorus of thumping snapped his attention, the barricade against the front door almost shattering under the weight of its attackers. It wouldn’t hold much longer. He knew you weren’t in any state to run to the motel, and he had to think fast.
Steve loops his arm around you and pulls you to your feet, muttering a string of apologies as you wince. His eyes catch the bleeding moonlight from above, enticing an idea.
It felt like your whole body was on fire, any movement contracting your muscles to pain until you could nearly faint. But you had to try, you had to move. For him.
He could sense your determination as he moved you both up the staircase, your legs wobbling but making it to the top in a timely fashion. His admiration would have to come later. Right now, he needed you both safe.
The hallway was long and dusty, Steve’s eyes barely adjusting to the darkness. He’s unsure where to go next, a lengthy display of doors scattered either side of him as he helps you walk further into the house. Maybe there was another-
A giant crash echoed out in splintered waves, dread flooding his body.
They were here.
Picking the closest door, he drags you both inside and takes care to shut it as quietly as possible, knowing one loud sound could be the end. His nerves were on high alert, struggling to make the life-saving decisions his friends usually expected from him. But the stakes were different this time. There was no one to bail him out if he makes the wrong move, no Nancy or Jonathan to come save the day. It was just him, protecting you.
The door had apparently led to a bedroom, his eyes scanning for a chair or a dresser to block- No. No. That would just make more noise- But what if they got in?
Hide. You need to hide.
Pulling you close to him, he spots a large closet on the other side of the bedroom. That would have to do.
It omitted a soft creak, making him grimace. He carefully lowers you down, noting how you were forcing yourself to breathe in even intervals. You were fighting it as best as you could, and that was all he could ask for.
As he joins you, he manoeuvres you so you were situated between his legs, knowing this would be the only way to ensure you both fit in the small space. His bat is digging into his side as his arms are wrapped around you, his back pressed against the side of the closet as he watches the bedroom door through the crack of light, holding his breath.
He couldn’t hear anything, but that was the scary part. He had hoped to hear the creatures crash through the ground floor and somehow be tricked back outside, relieving his mind with the knowledge he made the right decision.
The space was becoming all too small, even with the door cracked open. And that’s when the fear came creeping in.
What if a demogorgon found you?
What if it tracks your scent, follows the trail up the staircase, opens the third door on the left?
What if it stalks into the room and starts listening closely, hearing his quickened breaths of panic?
What if the last thing Steve saw was the thing ripping open the closet doors, a set of giant claws caging you in, knowing there was no escape?
What if you both died in here?
He exhales a long breath, fading back into reality when he feels something gently squeeze his hand. Your hand. You had intertwined your fingers with his, head laying back against hisshoulder, sensing his anxiety.
Steve had known he was claustrophobic for a while now. As a little kid, he remembers when he and his friends would play in the woods, a hollowed tree trunk on the ground marking the final destination of their adventure. That was the first time he felt fear, he thinks, curled up halfway through the tight space as his shirt was caught on protruding bark. He remembers his friends laughing and leaving to go find his parents when it became all too serious, assuming they had abandoned him there.
The tunnels were far worse than his 7 year old self’s nightmares. When the demodogs came barrelling towards them, his sudden realisation that he would be dragged back into those tunnels and left for dead, he had never felt so hopeless. He couldn’t even fight, not really. He could only attempt to shield Dustin with his body, and pray they made his death quick.
He never really knew how to get himself out of these situations. His parents had enticed him out with harsh words and false promises, eventually dragging him out by his arms when his mind couldn’t stop imagining the tree collapsing in on him. The demodogs hadn’t attacked in the end, sparing them with pure luck and giving him no time to reflect on his darker thoughts, the kids needing him more than he needed closure from himself.
But one single touch of your hand changed everything. No words, no rush. Just a reminder he was still here. And you were here with him.
He felt your body tense the moment the floorboards out on the hallway creak, just quiet enough to let him know the creature was trying to be silent. Something was looking for you.
The virus had taken its toll on you, the past few minutes of your life flashing by in a blur. You don’t even remember climbing into the closet, waiting in suspenseful agony for a sign that the coast was clear. But all of a sudden, you had finally returned to reality, feeling Steve’s erratic heartbeat on your back.
You almost flinched when you heard something bang against the bedroom door. It was sudden, ricocheting an echo of vibration through the floor. And then it was complete and utter silence.
You must have been shaking because Steve holds you closer, forcing you to take a few quiet breaths. You’d be okay. It will be okay.
Another sharp crash blares out, but it’s further this time. Whatever it was outside of that door was leaving, finally. But that didn’t stop you both from sitting there for a little while longer, afraid to move from the safety of the wooden walls.
It was you who made the first move to leave, shifting in his arms and pointing to the door. You had caught your breath now, shaking away the virus’ side effects with strength Steve could only respect.
Steve pushes the closet door open and you are finally back on your feet, offering a hand to pull him up with you.
“That was close.” He breathes out with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He retrieves his bat from the wardrobe and turns around to see you’re stood still with a guilty expression on your face.
“I’m so sorry.” You whisper out, shaking your head. “We could’ve- it’s my fault.”
“What? No.” He crosses the room and pulls you into a hug, one you definitely needed. “No, it’s not your fault. None of this is.”
After a moment, he pulls away, sucking in a breath. “Now let’s get the hell out of here because this place is giving me the creeps.”
You nodded to his words, shivering as you observed the room you stood in. It looked like a master bedroom, possibly decorated for a couple to reside in. Everything was either covered in dust or cobwebs, a pang of sadness hitting your chest.
You knew the rumours of this place; a man going crazy and killing his entire family, their ghosts now haunting the place ready to collect more victims. But right now, you didn’t feel haunted.
A family had died here, the home clearly decorated with care and love from the people who never got a chance to live in it. And it has just been left like this, to wither and rot away.
Steve poked his head out of the door and listened out, making sure you weren’t just walking into a trap. He did the same as he leaned over the banister, clocking the wide open front door, now adorned in malicious claw marks.
“Fastest route?” He asks as you join him at the back of the house, squinting into the horizon.
There were only two options; along the road and out in the open, or through the woods with little to no light. You tried to think back to when you originally thought of the plan, retracing your steps.
“I’m thinking, uh…” Your voice suddenly cuts off and you turn to stare at him, a hint of a smirk on your lips. Steve frowns. “Do I remember you calling me sweetheart earlier?”
Heat rushes to Steve’s cheeks. “What? No. That would be weird. I don’t have a pet name for you. Or any name, actually. Other than your actual name. Maybe ‘asshole’. Not- not sweetheart- right, we’re cutting through the woods this way.”
He marches off before he becomes any more of a mess than he already is, hearing your laughter as it trails behind him.
“So… where the hell is this mysterious gate maker gonna be?”
You were both stood in the parking lot of Motel 6, eyes scanning each room as if a source of light would illuminate the monster you were hunting. If your theory was right, and it was all originating from here… how long has it been right under your noses?
“Maybe it’s like the gates.” You offer, shrugging. “What did Dustin say? In the heart, or something. The middle.”
“I hope not.” Steve states and you turn to where he was suggesting.
The heart of the hotel wouldn’t be one of the rooms, nor the office. And you had a suspicion Steve had thought correctly.
The basement.
Staring down at those two daunting metal doors, you feel your skin prickle. You take a glance over your shoulder, frowning.
In all three weeks you’ve been down here, you’ve never encountered a single monster at the motel. It had been a last minute resort for safety, ensuring you weren’t followed, picking room 303 as if it mattered. You were pretty good at sneaking around the place, but you never realised how truly odd it was that no monster ever followed you.
Maybe that answer was waiting for you behind those basement doors.
“Wait,” Steve gently places a hand on your waist as you move towards it, staring down with brown eyes of deep concern. “Are we sure we really wanna do this?”
“There isn’t another choice.” You say, yet you were still hesitant as you walked up to the doors, forcing each step you took.
No locks, no obstacles. Just a pair of metallic blocks on hinges. That felt worse somehow.
“If I had a nickel for every time I had to go down into a cellar to look for a monster…” Steve sighs to himself, catching your curious look. “Uh, I’d only have, like, two. But still. That’s two more than I should have.”
You can only nod in agreement, your breath caught in your throat.
Are we sure we really wanna do this?
The unsatisfying creak of metal echoes across the parking lot, Steve letting out a low whistle as he stares down into darkness.
“I’m sure this won’t be creepy at all.” He comments, taking the first step down before you had the chance. You’ve noticed that about him, always the first to enter an unknown room. A protector.
Light bleeds through a small window on the other side of the cellar. There was more space than you were expecting, but the strangest part was the fact there was nothing in here. Like it had never been used to store anything.
“It’s empty.” You announce, stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room.
“Maybe the landlord kicked it out.” Steve shrugs, silently relieved. He catches your fallen expression and places a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’ll find another way.”
And then the basement doors swing shut, the sound rattling through the dark cellar at an alarming pitch.
“Shit!”
Steve drops his bat and rushes back up the steps to push against the metal doors. Nothing. He drives his shoulder into it. It doesn’t budge.
“How is it locked?!” He grunts, giving it one last try before backing away, shaking his head. “There wasn’t any lock on it!”
Your stomach drops.
You both freeze, turning once again to the singular door at the end of the hallway, a snarl vibrating through the wood of it.
The door you had walked through swung itself closed with a loud bang.
Spinning around with no intention of being here any longer, you reach out and pull the handle towards you.
It didn’t budge.
You grab the other handle in your spare hand and pull harder, the doors rattling under your force, but never opening.
“Billy!” You yell, but he’s already pushing against the doors, eyes wide. “It’s locked! How is it locked?!”
“Shit!” He hisses, turning to ram his shoulder against it for extra strength, but he couldn’t keep it up forever.
It was all happening again.
You had just walked into another trap.
“It’s here.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Steve is on high alert, frantically looking around the basement. But it’s still empty.
“Nothing is here, Y/n.” He frowns.
“Not on this side.” You gasp when something suddenly echoes in your ear. You look at Steve, startled, but he doesn’t share the same expression.
“What?”
“You didn’t hear that?”
“Hear what?”
You start moving around, trying to find a spot to make the incomprehensible whispers clearer. Steve’s heart is pounding louder.
“It’s that voice again.” You mutter to yourself.
“Voice? Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Steve manages to catch you for a split second, and you meet his eyes. His face drops.
The veins were creeping up your face, laying just beneath your eyes. He places a hand on your forehead. You’re burning up.
“Y/n, you don’t look so good.”
“It has to be here.” You shake your head out of his hold, stepping back. “The map- it has to be here!”
And then you hear it again, the voice. Except, this time, it’s so much clearer.
“Tell her”
You suddenly stop, letting out a gasp and Steve’s anxiety is sky-rocketing. You were both trapped inside this basement with something he couldn’t see.
He tries the doors again, thumping his fist against it like it would dislodge something. Nothing. Glancing over his shoulder, he clocks the window. Maybe…
Steve sprints over, dropping the bag off his shoulder and onto the floor beside him as he fumbles around for some kind of latch. Something rattles and he smiles. Bingo.
“Hey, we can get out through the window. Wasn’t rocket science, but I’m still a genius.”
He turns back to look at you over his shoulder, smiling. You’re currently near the far corner, your back facing him. You don’t seem to have heard him, breathing in odd intervals as you stare down at your hands.
“Y/n.” He tries again, louder. Your head twitches. Steve releases the latch on the window, fear flooding his entire body.
That same familiar feeling starts twisting in his gut, the same he always had when something is really really wrong. He never ignored it, never wanted to, because it was always right. But he didn’t want to believe it this time.
He slowly steps away from the window, his eyes permanently glued to the back of your head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.
Trying again, his voice cracks under the pressure of speaking your name like it would warp the vicious reality he was living in.
“Y/n?”
You snap your head to him, and the colour drains from his face.
“No…”
He lost you.
The world bled to grey as tears start trailing from his eyes, staring into yours. Except, they weren’t yours. They were darker, soulless. Black blood was dripping from your chin, staining your lips.
Lips he had once kissed.
Lips he would never kiss again.
“Don’t do this.” He begs, unable to find the force to speak louder than a whisper. “Y/n, please. It’s not- I can’t hurt you. You know I can’t hurt you. Y/n...”
You snarled at him this time, your mannerisms unnerving. It wasn’t you anymore.
His eyes slowly drift to his bat, making him clench his jaw. It was closer to you than it was to him. He wouldn’t be able to reach it in time.
But he knew he wasn’t completely defenceless. He just wasn’t sure if he had the strength to use it.
You suddenly lunge at him and he instinctively dives for his bag, rolling away from your attack in the last second. He unzips it, staring down. He couldn’t do this.
Snarls and hisses spit from your mouth as you scramble up from the floor, blinking rapidly as you search in the dark.
Click.
Your whole body snaps to him in one sharp movement.
With a shaking hand, he stares directly into your eyes.
“Y/n, please.” He sobs, “Please, you have to be in there.”
Not even the mournful pressure against his chest felt as heavy as the gun in his hand, tears rolling down his face.
It was your idea to take a pistol from the cabin, knowing you couldn’t use it unless it was in moments of emergency, afraid the rippling sound of the bullet would alert every monster in the town. You both swore you’d never have to use it.
And here he was, pointing it directly at your head.
“Steve?” Your small voice prickles his hearing and he moves his gaze from your hands to your eyes, darting between the pupils in silent study. “If I… if it-”
“No.” He immediately shakes his head and you could almost sob. For what felt like days, you’ve been trying to have this conversation with him, but he always shuts it down, pretending like it wasn’t needed.
“You need to listen-”
“I am not killing you.” He says with conviction, and he feels your fingers slip out of his reach. “That’s not happening, Y/n, you can’t expect me to-”
“And what then?” You cry, standing taller, making his head crane to look up at you as you wrap your arms around your torso. “You’re just gonna watch me turn into a monster and let me stay that way?!”
“This isn’t just some sort of favour you’re asking for!” He frowns, shaking his head. “You want me to kill you. To end your life!”
He knew this was coming. You knew this was coming. You’ve been trying to warn him for weeks now, pleading to him. And he never listened. He never wanted to.
Three weeks ago, Steve would have shot you in that school hallway if you had turned after the bite, the memory bitter but his heart still intact.
Three weeks later, Steve would rather shoot himself then live with the memory of putting a bullet between the eyes of the girl he was in love with.
It can’t end like this. It can’t.
“It’s me.” He tries again, hoping his voice could break you free from the virus. “It’s me. Steve. Remember?”
He should have known hope was never his friend.
A voice completely alien to you rips out a screech from your throat, and hell comes to bludgeon him with the worst it had to offer.
Steve watches in horror as the skin starts peeling from your face, tearing it into pieces like a flower and its petals.
Like a demogorgon.
It was too late. You weren’t coming back to him.
You run at him, sharp teeth bared, mind forever gone.
Steve’s eyes shut…
… and he pulls the trigger.
“STEVE!”
Your throat was sore from relentless screaming, sobbing with your entire chest.
Steve had rushed over to the window just after you heard that voice. You had turned your back on him, distracted by what you thought was a shadow hiding in the walls.
You heard him call your name. But when you turned around…
His eyes were rolled back, stood deathly still.
“Steve! Wake up!” You keep trying to shake him out of his trance, watching as a trail of red bleeds from his nose. “No! No, wake up! Steve!”
More and more whispers echo around you, building up until all you heard were the same repeated words.
“What do you want?!” You scream into the dark, cheeks stained with relentless tears. Steve was dying, and you couldn’t do anything about it.
In a desperate attempt for help, you crouch down by the window and start rifling through his bag, batting the gun to the side to grab the radio.
“Hello?! Is anyone there?! Please!!”
You cry out in frustration when all that responds is the piercing static.
“That won’t help you.”
The radio slips from your hand in shock, clattering against the concrete as your wide eyes fixate on the image in the corner.
Something was forming from the shadows, pulling together pieces of the dark like it was dust. Your body floods with ice. The basement had never been dark. You were just surrounded by the same black dust that haunted every single nightmare.
Your shaking hands swipe the bat from the ground and grip it tight, shielding Steve’s body with your own. You hear his breaths become shallower.
“You were never meant to find me.” It spoke in a dark voice, fading in and out like a weak connection.
A gasp slips from your mouth when the particles build its final form. A silhouette of a man, featureless yet distinctive. Of all the creations you had envisioned, you didn’t expect the monster to be so… human.
A man.
“What do you want?!” You yell at it, raising the bat like it would scare it away.
“I tried time and time again to get you to understand.” He spoke, drifting closer to you. “I gave you the future. Visions. A simple task.”
Something like a sob escapes Steve’s lips and you whip your head to him, feeling completely and utterly helpless. You weren’t going to defeat the monster like you said you would. And now you were going to watch him die, knowing you were the only reason he was down here with you.
“It was the only way to make sure you listened.”
You turn back to the monster, a scowl twisting onto your face.
“Let him go.” You warn, but you knew your threat was meaningless.
“You have no power here.” He states, and you could almost feel the shadow smiling at you with malicious intent. “I make the rules.”
Goosebumps return to their path along your skin, trailing up your arms and prickling at your neck, making you shiver.
“I will let him go… Once you carry out one important task.” He nods, closer once again. You shift your body protectively in front of Steve, holding your breath.
“What…” You blink away tears, feeling suffocated by his presence.
You understood why the other monsters were so afraid of the dark.
Your arms didn’t feel attached to your body when they suddenly start to lower themselves, a shadowed hand reaching for your face.
“Bring me the girl.”
You frown, shaking your head. Girl?
As if he heard your thoughts, he leans close to you, speaking one word.
“Eleven.”
“El?” You gasp, and he steps away from you, observing. “Why- what do you want with her?”
“Bring her to me, and I will let him go.” The figure doesn’t answer your question, tilting its head. “Once you leave this place, you’ll find her, and you’ll bring her to me. That is all I want.”
“And if I don’t?” You raise your chin, regaining the feeling in your arms.
He slowly raises his hand, pointing it to the boy behind you. At first, nothing happened. And then you watch in despair as Steve’s body starts to slowly lift from the ground, a strained yell of pain.
“Stop!” You beg, and the shadow obeys, Steve’s feet touching the ground.
One little action and it was so simple it was terrifying. If you don’t bring El to him, he’ll kill Steve.
This monster knew you. It had been following you around since the dust you encountered, observing the things that made you tick, the things you loved, hated, needed. He knew exactly what would make you listen to him.
He was the Voice that had been haunting you for weeks.
You look back at Steve, almost crying out when you notice he’s lost more blood in the time you’ve taken to decide. You couldn’t do that to El.
But you also couldn’t watch Steve die.
“Fine.” You sob, nodding. “Just let him go.”
“You’ll know where to find me”
And then the shadow is thrown back into the darkness, hitting a wall and sinking back into it, dispersing the dust in scattered patterns on the surface.
Steve gasps behind you, and you spin around to catch him as he stumbles forward.
“Steve!” You cry in relief, wrapping your arms around him as he struggles to catch his breath.
“Y/n?” He sounds surprised, almost sad, observing every little detail of you as if he couldn’t decide if you were real. “Wait, you’re… what happened?”
“I-”
You try to reply when a loud hum starts building behind you, your attention needed elsewhere.
The middle of the wall starts to burn away, splitting apart and blackening at the edges. The humming only became louder, a dark red hue casting your shadows.
The Voice was creating a gate. For you. To pawn your sister’s life for Steve’s. Once you stepped through it, you’d be signing a death warrant.
If you stepped through it.
“What the fuck is happening…” Steve blinks at the gate, aware of the tightened grip your hand had on his.
In his vision, he had shot you. He had committed the most unspeakable act he had time and time again refused. The worst part of it, was he thought it was real. He made that decision.
But it was all a lie, and you were here, holding his hand with a look on your face he couldn’t decipher.
“You have to go.” You say to him, your words hazy to his ears. He still wasn’t entirely sure he was back in reality, struggling to make sense of the walls around him. “Steve, listen to me. You have to go.”
“No.” He shakes his head, trying to focus. “What about… what about you?”
A booming chorus of thumps against metal suddenly arose from the basement doors. Your stomach dropped.
The creatures weren’t afraid of the dark anymore.
When the gate had spread into a human-sized portal, you start pushing Steve towards it. His sneakers were just touching the edge before he realised what was happening.
“Hey, hey! No!” He stops, and you’re not strong enough to overpower him.
“Steve, you have to go! They’re gonna break through any minute!” You cry, watching the ever-growing dents in the metal above the staircase. “Please, you have to go!”
“I’m not leaving you, Y/n!”
“It’s already too late.” You sob, wiping away your tears. Tears that felt hot, burning against your skin.
The skin littered with black veins.
“I’m gonna turn any minute now.” You place your hands on his cheeks, making sure he was listening to your every word. “And I don’t want my last memory to be crossing back into our home knowing I won’t make it 5 steps before the virus kills me. Okay? So, you’re gonna go through the gate and you’re not ever gonna look back. Please. Don’t come back for me.”
“I can’t-” He cries and you bring his forehead down to rest on yours, nodding.
“I know.” You whisper, leaning forward to leave a feather-light kiss on his lips.
His eyes are still closed when you pull back, studying him one last time.
“Which is why I’m sorry.”
Steve’s eyes snap open just in time to watch your hands find his chest and shove him as hard as you can, his body ripping through the gate faster than he can experience.
His back hits solid concrete, making him groan. It takes a second for him to blink away the dots in his vision, slowly sitting up. He can see your figure clearly, your sad eyes, the smile gracing your lips.
And then the gate starts to sew itself shut.
Steve scrambles to his feet, tugging at the dangling pieces of membrane to try and stop the process.
“Y/n!” He yells at you, the unwelcome fear striking his nerves when he hears a loud crash from the other side.
Judging by the look on your face, it was exactly what he thought it was.
“No! No! Y/n!”
The gate is getting smaller, but his screams are only getting louder, fingers desperately trying to pry it open like a set of doors. But it was useless.
He can just make out a rush of silhouettes, your retreating form.
And then he was clawing at a concrete wall, body shaking with the intensity of his tears.
“No, no, no, no!” He yells in rage, his fingers scraped and bloodied.
For the last three weeks, all he wanted was to be on the other side. And now he was here, without you, it felt worse than hell.
He barely heard the creak of metal doors open behind him, or even saw his shadow suddenly cast onto the space he lost you forever.
Steve didn’t notice anything until a voice calls out behind him, causing him to turn and squint against the beaming light.
“Steve?” Hopper frowns, squinting. “Steve.”
He rushes down those steps and drops the flashlight, both hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“Hey, kid, you alright?” He asks, but Steve can barely speak. “Kid, look at me.”
Steve looked at him, a torn and broken version of the boy Hopper had seen last. He can feel Hopper’s hands tighten, a look of horror clouding his eyes.
“Where’s Y/n?”
Don’t forget me, you had said to him. A bittersweet promise of a memory.
Steve wasn’t ready to make you a memory.
“She’s still back there.” He finally said, swallowing the bitter lie that was about to coat his tongue. “We got separated.”
He lowered his eyes, unable to look at him, trying to ignore the guilt eating away at his chest. It was cruel, to lie to a father so desperate to get his daughter back. But he was afraid the truth would show you were like your father in more ways than one.
Steve needed to do this. No matter the consequences.
“She wants us to find her.” He finally says, nodding. “She wants us to bring her back.”
To be continued...
[A/N: GOH will return for yet another installment! I'm separating the story into parts so I can trick my stupid brain that only gives me writers block into thinking it's only a short story. I honestly plan for this to last forever. Or at least until I run out of ideas lmao.]
taglist:
@toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .
@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .
@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady
#stranger things#stranger things x reader#fanfic#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x you#apocalypse au
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Never Say Never
Chapter 20
Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader
Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.
No posting schedule.
18+ only for eventual smut
Word Count: 3.5K
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19
Two Years Later
Indianapolis in the summer was hot and humid. You tugged at the cotton of your shirt, pulling the material away from your wet, sticky body. All you wanted right now was to lie on your couch, your feet propped up, enjoying the air conditioning and an iced coffee. But coffee was limited to you these days and decaf just didn’t bring the same joy. What was the point? And no matter what anyone said, it did not taste the same.
The bookstore was packed with people, the air conditioner not doing much amidst the radiating body heat of the crowd, books cradled in their arms, waiting to meet the author. Mike sat at a table in the center, smiling up at a customer as he signed the copy of his latest book, Paladin of the Dead Kingdom, a sequel to his debut novel which had raced up the charts to number one on the New York Times bestseller list, shocking everyone but probably him mostly.
Releasing a long slow breath, you pressed your hand against the base of your back in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled low in your spine. Rolling your shoulders, you moved forward, continuing to browse the selection of books on the shelf in front of you. With as much time as you'd been spending with your feet up every night, you'd been getting a lot of reading done. A few new additions to your quickly dwindling pile would be good.
Your fingers trailed over the spines as you read, waiting for something to catch your eye, the sun shining in the window hitting the diamond on your left hand with a shimmering sparkle. A soft smile crossed your lips as you flashed back to last year, you and Steve under a trellis of flowers that the girls had put together in your backyard.
It had been a small ceremony, held on the anniversary of the day you had met each other the previous year. Your closest family and friends had gathered around as you vowed to love each other until death parted you. A slight twinge of panic had raced up your spine at those words but you had pushed it down, refusing to believe that life could be that cruel twice. No. You had been lucky enough to find him and you would be allowed to keep him. You had to believe that.
Everything with the two of you had moved pretty fast. You'd bought your house, with the wraparound porch you’d always dreamed of and the pool in the backyard that you couldn’t get the boys out of during the summer, only a few months after meeting. Steve had proposed two months after that. Seven months later you were married. From first sighting to wedding rings in the span of a year but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It didn’t matter how quickly it moved when you were certain you’d found the one that was meant for you.
“Mike is eating all this attention up,” El groaned, approaching with little Max on her hip. He’d just turned one last week and you could not get enough of his full little cheeks, dimples appearing as he grinned widely at you, drool slipping out of his mouth as he chewed at the teether El was trying to soothe him with. “But I’m so proud of him. He never thought his book would go anywhere, let alone be an instant bestseller.”
“Yeah. Well, there’s a lot of nerds in the world,” Dustin said, stepping up and holding out his arms. Baby Max leapt right into them. “The nerds far outnumber the non-nerds and he wrote something that appealed to every single one of them. Didn’t he, Max?” He grinned, bouncing his hip, Max giggling. “That’s right. Daddy did good. Huh, Max?”
“While I appreciate you naming your child after me,” Max interrupted, leaning against the side of the bookcase. “It is highly creepy to hear Dustin say my name in that baby voice.”
“Oh, Auntie Max is such a downer, isn’t she? She’s as grouchy as Oscar. We just need to find her a trash can,” Dustin cooed. “Come on little Max. I saw some cookies on the table in the back. Let’s get you one.”
“Dustin, not too much sugar, please,” El called but he was already gone and she sighed, tossing her hands in the air. “He’s going to let him have way too many cookies, isn’t he?”
“Oh yeah,” you grinned. “Not to mention punch. There’s fruit punch back there and cupcakes. Max will be all sugared up.”
“Great. At least the hotel has a pool. He can swim it out before bed.”
Robin and June walked up, hand in hand, and you smiled. Sometime within the last year, Robin has stopped being so self conscious about being affectionate with her girlfriend in public. She’d stopped worrying about what other people thought or what their reaction would be. She just let herself be happy. Even better, the two hadn’t encountered too much ignorance, choosing to ignore the side eyes or wrinkled noses. If anyone had anything to say, you would be more than happy to put them in their place.
Robin had moved out of her apartment when the lease was up last August and moved in with June. The two were now running the coffee shop together. Business was booming with all of Robin’s ideas. They had things going on every single night and the town was eager to come in, not only for the coffee and sandwiches anymore, but for all the extras. People waited anxiously to hear what the next read was for book club or to see the sign advertising what new musician would be playing. Local artists and poets signed up on a waiting list that was six months long to be able to come in and feature their work.
“This is one hell of a turnout,” June commented, eyes wide as she took in the crowd packed into the bookstore.
“Isn’t it amazing? It really means a lot to Mike that you all came to support him,” El told them with a smile.
“Of course we did,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy walking up. “Plus, it gave us a nice little getaway. We’re all going to take the boys to the Indianapolis Zoo tomorrow and to a baseball game on Sunday. They can’t wait. Jere is so excited to see his first professional game.”
Nancy laughed, “Well, the guys are going to take the boys to the baseball game. Y/N and I have appointments at the spa.”
You smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply, “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that. My feet could use some serious pampering right now.”
“Everything could use some pampering right about now,” Nancy said, waving her hand up and down to indicate your whole body. “Why do you think Steve booked it?”
Every time you thought Steve couldn’t get anymore perfect, he managed to prove you wrong, to do something to surprise you. When talk of this trip to support Mike’s book release came up, he’d instantly suggested you should turn it into a little vacation for all of you. You were all for the idea, excited to show him the Indianapolis Zoo that you’d enjoyed so much five years ago when Justin had brought you. You fully intended on replacing your broken coffee mug on this trip.
Then last week, he dropped a brochure on your lap. It was for a spa in the city. He’d booked you the Ultimate Package. It included a massage, a facial, manicure, pedicure, a hair wash, and style. You’d argued with him, telling him it was too much, but he’d insisted. Then he’d tempted you even more by telling you that Nancy was going with you.
You and Nancy had grown exceptionally close over the last couple of years. The woman you’d been so terrified of had turned out to be one of the most exceptional people you’d ever met. She’d welcomed you into their little family from the moment she’d met you and she had supported you and Steve every step of the way. Janice had been your maid of honor but Nancy had stood right next to her, a beautiful bridesmaid, her eyes shining with tears of joy as you and Steve had promised to love one another forever.
The bell above the door rang lightly, barely heard over the chatter of conversation within the four walls. Eli and Jeremiah came racing in, darting straight for their moms, red faced, shiny with sweat, and beaming from ear to ear.
“We pet a dog!” Eli yelled. “He was so big, mommy, like way bigger than me. Even bigger than Miles!”
Steve trailed behind them, clearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the boys. He stopped in front of you, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling deeply.
“Great Dane,” he muttered.
He’d offered to take the boys for a walk to get them out of everybody’s hair for a minute. They had been bursting with energy and sitting or standing nicely in the bookshop was not cutting it at the moment. You had been nervous they were going to cause a commotion if they didn’t get out of there for a bit.
“And we went to a playground!” Jeremiah added. “You should have seen it! It had everything and the monkey bars were so high but I did them anyway! I wasn’t even scared!”
“Yeah! And they had this swing that two people could sit on! It was like a circle and we sat on it and Daddy pushed us and we went so high!” Eli yelled.
“Wow, that’s incredible,” Jonathan replied, leaning down, hands on his knees. “How about we go get you both a cookie and some punch and you can pick out a book and sit and rest for a bit. I bet you could use some rest after all that excitement.”
“I sure could,” grumbled Steve, but his smile didn’t match his tone. The man might grumble and moan but he loved those boys with everything he had. And nothing made him happier than spending time with them.
“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, damp at the base of his neck from the heat and exertion, “did the boys wear you out, baby?”
“A bit,” he nodded. “They never stop, those two. They just have endless energy. I wish I could bottle up a fraction of it. It’s hard keeping up with them.”
“Well, you better get to training then,” Nancy teased, her eyes dropping to your stomach and then back up to Steve. “You’ve only got a couple months to get ready for an all new one. You think they’re exhausting now, do you remember Jeremiah at one and two and three?”
Yes, Eli was getting the sibling that you had always hoped for him to have but hadn’t expected to happen. After you were married, you had stopped birth control, the two of you deciding that if it happened, it happened. You weren’t stressing it. You would be content either way but when you realized in February that your period was a month late and that stick had shown two pink lines, you'd both been elated.
The idea of a little person that was a mixture of the two of you, a living, breathing testament to the love you shared, filled you both with more joy than you'd expected. It felt like a symbol of not only your relationship, but the blending of your two families into one. Beautiful splashes of color that collided to create the most beautiful piece of art. Because there was no doubt in your mind that this baby would be beautiful, especially if she got her dad’s lashes and that head of full, thick hair.
“Have you guys finally picked out a name?” questioned Robin for what had to be the twentieth time. “You know, I keep telling you that Robin is a pretty great name.”
“I would offer up Max but that’s already taken,” the red head shrugged. “Not that you couldn’t also name your child after me. I mean, I am obviously the coolest one here.”
El laughed, “While I agree, it would be very challenging to have two little ones running around with the same name. It’s already hard with you and my son.”
“Besides, Robin is the obvious choice,” Robin cut in.
“Why is Robin the obvious choice? Why not June?” her girlfriend asked. “I think it’s a very pretty name.”
“It’s a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl,” Robin said, “but I have been friends with Steve for fourteen years.”
“Well, if we’re going by the longest time knowing someone, then I should win,” Nancy argued. “I’ve known Steve for sixteen years and I am the mother of his other child. I think that gives me bonus points. Maybe the baby should be called Nancy.”
“I don’t know that Jere would want his little sister to be named the same thing as his mom,” Steve mused.
“Why not? Guys name their kids after themselves all the time.”
“While that is true,” you began, cutting off the conversation, “we have already settled on a name. She will be Peyton Robin Harrington.”
“Ohh!” El’s eyes went wide, her hands clasped to her chest. “I love Peyton. That’s such a cute name.”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t lend itself to any weird nicknames,” Steve said, his arms coming around you, hands covering your round belly. “That was one of my biggest concerns. I didn’t want to pick anything that could be turned into something awful.”
“Like Pey?” offered Lucas, earning a glare from Steve.
“Oh! Peyday!” Max grinned.
“Or PeyPey,” teased Robin.
Nancy snorted, “How about Ton? Come here little Ton!”
“You all suck,” Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. “None of you will be calling my beautiful little girl any of those awful names.”
“I don’t know,” you joked. “Peyday has a certain ring to it.”
“Don’t you start, too,” groaned Steve.
“Oh! Or Peycheck!”
“Honey, seriously…”
“Peyroll! No! I got it. Peypaya.”
Steve’s hands rested on his hips, his face so unamused that you couldn’t help but laugh.
“You guys are so funny. Leave my daughter alone.”
“Hey,” you protested, winding your arms around his waist, feeling him melt against you, his hands leaving his hips to come around you. “She’s my daughter too.”
“So stop trying to start off her life by traumatizing her. She’ll never live down a name like Peypaya.”
“While I think Robin should have been her first name, I guess I am willing to accept the middle name,” the blond huffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s still a little recognition of how neither of you could function without me.”
“We really couldn’t,” you agreed. “I mean, who would keep this one in line for me?” You nodded your head toward Steve and he snorted, shaking his head.
“Seriously. This dingus thought doing the whole baby room without you as a surprise while you were visiting your parents would be a good idea.”
“Hey! I thought it would be nice for her to come home to a finished nursery. I was just trying to save my wife from extra work.”
“Yeah and then she wouldn’t have had a say in any of it. She would have smiled and thanked you and secretly hated it every single time she walked into the room and it wasn’t what she’d envisioned,” Max told him. “Robin was right. You cannot do home renovations without your wife’s opinion.”
“I asked Janice for input. She knows her better than anyone.”
It was true. Janice knew exactly what you would want. The sage green nursery, photos of zoo animals that your friend had taken for you adorning the walls, soft pastel orange bedding and pillows, cuddly stuffed animals propped throughout. It was perfect and Janice would have guided Steve to do exactly that.
The two of you had been ecstatic when you'd found out that you were having a girl. Janice’s daughter, Olive, was only eighteen months so the girls would be close in age. Both of you hoped your girls would be just as inseparable as their moms were, a built in life-long friend.
Max relented, “Okay. I mean, asking her best friend was a solid plan. If anyone would know what she wanted, it was her.”
“Exactly and what she told me is exactly what my wife wanted anyway. I could have done it and then she wouldn’t have had to stress.”
“Either way, the nursery is perfect. The boys had the best time helping us get everything ready. They even each picked out an animal for the room. Eli wanted an elephant because it starts with ‘e’ and Jeremiah went with giraffe because it has the same sound as his name, even if the letters are different. His words, not mine.” You laughed, remembering how excited the boys had been running through the baby store, helping you pick out things for the room.
“They were a little bummed that we didn’t go with a superhero theme,” Steve added.
“Well, of course,” chuckled Lucas. “What little girl wouldn’t want Batman and Superman?”
Max shrugged, “I mean, you could have gone with Catwoman and Wonder Woman. That would have been pretty kickass.”
Mike stumbled over into their aisle, looking exhausted but happy, a wide smile stretching his face. He leaned down to kiss El and then dropped down to the floor dramatically in front of the bookshelf.
“My hand is going to wither and fall off,” he groaned, shaking his fingers. “I don’t even know how many books I signed.”
“Oh please. You love it,” Lucas told him.
Mike grinned, “I do. I never thought this would actually be me. I mean, nothing Mike Wheeler, kid who was picked on by the assholes all through school, now a bestselling author. People actually line up just to meet me and get me to slap my signature on something I wrote. It’s insane, man, but so damn cool.”
“Dada!”
Little Max came racing over, Dustin rushing behind him, clearly having lost control of the situation. The little guy flung himself into Mike’s open arms and the guy who’d looked terrified at the thought of being a father, scooped him up, kissing the top of his hair that was the shade of midnight, just like his dad’s.
“Hey buddy.”
Max held up the cookie he currently had in his hand, the whole thing a mushy wet mess from where he’d been gnawing at it. He tried to put it in Mike’s mouth and he grimaced, shaking his head.
“No thank you. That’s Max’s cookie. You eat it, buddy.”
“And how many cookies is that, Dustin?” inquired El, the girl already having the mom look down, currently giving it to Dustin.
The boy shrugged, curls spilling out from under his ballcap, “I don’t know. Not too many…I mean…” He ran his hand over his mouth, mumbling, “Four.”
“Four! Did you say four?” El groaned, her head dropping back. “Dustin, seriously. I am going to make you deal with him when he’s running up and down the hallways of the hotel and refusing to go to sleep.”
“Okay. I don’t mind hanging out with the little dude.”
El’s eyes rolled up into her head as the adult Max patted her shoulder gently.
“Well, while he’s had four cookies, I’ve had nothing for the last three hours and I am starving,” Mike announced, one arm around his son as he rose up to his feet. “What do you all say we head out and get some dinner?”
“You buying?” asked Nancy.
“Yeah, with that big advance, you can afford it, right?” Lucas agreed.
Robin placed an arm on his shoulder, grinning, “Mr. Big Bucks over here these days.”
“Oh! If Mike’s buying, I am getting all the drinks,” June said.
“And dessert,” Max added. “Maybe we should order every dessert on the menu. You know, so we can taste everything.”
“Don’t forget appetizers,” Will stated.
Nolan nodded, “Yeah. I love to taste test things at other restaurants. Give me ideas for new recipes. I bet we could manage to order one of everything on the menu, for research, you know?”
“You guys are jerks,” Mike huffed.
“What, with that fancy Range Rover you drive now, I assumed you must have lots of expendable cash,” Jonathan said as he and the boys joined them.
“I mean, I’m doing okay,” Mike shrugged, his ears turning bright red. “I wouldn’t say I’m rolling in cash but I can buy dinner.”
They all whooped and cheered, heading out of the bookshop and onto the streets of Indy.
“But not one of everything on the menu!” he yelled after them.
“What?” Robin bellowed. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”
“Yeah!” Lucas yelled. “Too busy imagining all the food I’m going to eat!”
Steve rolled his eyes at the group, his arm coming around your shoulder as you trailed behind everybody. His mouth dropped to your ear, lips brushing over the tender skin as he whispered, “Regretting getting mixed up with this crew? Rethinking your choices?”
“Never,” you said, and you meant it, because this guy right here and everyone that came along with him were the best choice you’d ever made. Two years ago you’d said you would never find something this amazing again. But never say never.
Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist
And this brings this story to an end. Endings are always bittersweet for me. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️
#dad steve harrington#steve harrington#singledad!steveharrington#steve harrington single dad#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington imagine#fluff#smut#fluff and smut#romance#second chance romance#second chance at love#widow#divorced dad steve harrington#slow burn#robin buckley#robin and steve#dustin henderson#max mayfield#mike wheeler#eleven hopper
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Beneath the pale moonlight
"I banish you from the Starcourt pack!"
It's been six years since you were rejected by your mate, and his chosen mate banished you from Starcourt pack. Six years without contact with your siblings or friends. The only real comfort you've had in that time is your wolf, that you guiltily locked up inside of you due to being trapped in the human world.
Moving on with your life has been incredibly hard to do, but you've managed to pick up the pieces and get yourself a job and a life. So when your worlds collide and you find your brother and your former Alpha in a business meeting with your boss, it's hard to know how to react.
Watching them treat you like you're invisible breaks your heart, but the heartbreak soon turns to anger as they arrive at your door to ask you to come home. As they give you the opportunity to return home, you find yourself asking if you wish to remain a mutt or be part of a pack once more.
PROLOGUE COMING 15TH MAY
Find pack aesthetics here
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington au#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington series#reader x steve harrington#you x steve harrington#fem!reader x steve harrington#werewolf steve harrington
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Hi babes. Could I uh… get a part two of Steve with robins gf??? Maybe a secret fuck with Robin just in another room??? Or them making plans to meet somewhere??? Which ever u like better hehehe I love you 💖💖💖
Pt One! Steve Harrington x Bi!Reader
CW: Cheating, Unprotected sex
Love youuuuu <3
You felt terrible.
It was slowly killing you inside. The awful things that you did. And who you did it with. Steve should've been the last person you sought out. Him and Robin were close, like siblings. Platonic soulmates. you were sure he knew more about her than you did.
You had debated about telling her, then ultimately decided not to. You weren't sure what she would do if she found that that you had slept with Steve. You didn't want to hurt her.
But that didn't stop the guilt from eating at you. It got worse every day and you found yourself doing whatever you could to avoid Steve. Any time you were in the same room it grew awkward. There was tension now, strong and thick. You feared that Robin would grow suspicious.
But it was hard. It was so frustratingly difficult to stay away from Steve. You swore you didn't feel anything for him before, even if you were aware of how attractive he was.
You were drawn into him now, forced to stare at his floppy hair and big brown eyes. You enjoyed the way his pink lips curled into a smile, how his teeth were always white and shiny. He spoke with his hands and had so many moles and freckles that you were sure you could spend hours counting.
You were, without a doubt, fucked.
“What’s this for?” His warm voice rang through the kitchen, taking you by surprise as you jolted in your spot. You cleared your throat, avoiding his soft gaze as you pretended like you weren't just thinking about him.
“Our anniversary,” You spoke slowly, sternly, “Mine and Robin’s.” You clarified, furrowing your eyebrows together in worry that he may somehow think you were speaking about him. That was silly.
“She’ll like that,” Steve responded, unable to help himself as he used his finger to swipe off a piece of the icing. He met your eyes, watching the way the colors intensified as he brought the icing onto his tongue slowly, “Sweet.” He mumbled as he licked his finger clean, quite happy with the way you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
“Steve-,” You dragged out slowly, unsure of what you were really going to say. All you could do was stare at the way his tongue flicked out against his fingers. You pictured his fingers inside of your cunt, buried deep as he lapped at your clit.
You both froze, the hair on you standing straight up as you listened to Robin come clambering down the hallway. She had a cheery look on her face, but it disappeared as she looked at you two. You felt your heart crash to the floor, sure that she knew.
“Oh you dingus,” Robin whined as she looked at the cake, “You messed it up.” She responded as she gestured towards the cake. You exhaled, feeling like you had almost lost the ability to breathe.
“I took one little lick, you can’t even notice.” Steve scoffed, brushing her off as he leaned against the counter in amusement. You did your best not to stare, trying to ignore the way his shirt drifted up over his midriff.
“You put your nasty finger in it, of course I’m going to notice.” She huffed, shaking her head as she moved her arms around your waist. For the first time in your relationship, you shied away, unable to handle her touching you while Steve was staring so intensely.
"Do you want a Coke?" You asked her instead, playing it off as you opened the fridge, "I'm so thirsty." You drew out playfully, sighing deeply like you were parched.
"Sure," She said, looking at you curiously as you took several swigs from the can before you handed it to her. You wiped the liquid away from the corner of your lips, swallowing the bubbles roughly as you ignored Steve's look, "You alright?" Robin looked at you curiously, her gaze and tone softer as she inspected you.
"Mhm," You responded quickly as you motioned back towards the room, "I'm going to get ready. I'll be down soon." You told her, already dreading what the night would hold. You felt like you were doomed, like soon all of your secrets would come pouring out. Or that she would just now. Both scenarios terrified you.
You locked yourself into your shared bedroom, holding your palm flat against your chest as you willed your heart to calm down. You were so panicked about Robin finding out, but even more worried that you didn't regret what happened. You feared that meant it would happen again. It couldn't. But deep down, you thought that you wanted it to.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for the longest time, breathing in deeply until the guilt was erased from your eyes. Everything would be fine. It would never happen again and you would never hurt Robin.
"Hey," Robin popped her head in, making you jolt as her blue eyes scanned over your form for just a second, "I'm gonna run and go pick the food up, do you want anything to drink?"
"Is Steve going?' You asked as you pressed your fingers together. Your anniversary dinners with Robin were always the same. Burgers and fries from the restaurant you used to work at, where you met her at.
"To get our anniversary dinner?" Robin questioned sarcastically, making you force out a laugh in response. Of course he wasn't. You'd be alone with him. Perfect.
"Right," You nodded your head, "Sorry. Silly question." You responded, pulling a smile to your lips as she kissed the corner of your mouth. You breathed in deeply, pretending to be busy as she left. You just needed to distract yourself until she got back.
You fussed with the sheets on the bed, then with the clothes you were wearing. The room soon became too much for you; constant reminders of how happy you two were. How loyal you once were. It was driving you mad.
You slowly shut the door behind you, trying not to make a noise as you then dragged yourself down the hallway. You lingered near Steve's room for just a second too long, making you shake the thoughts from your mind. A shower. You needed a really cold shower.
You startled as you turned the corner, nearly bumping into the person you were trying to avoid as he tumbled from the bathroom. Steam rolled out of the room with him, leaving you in a cloudy haze as water dripped from his hair and onto his smooth shoulders.
His hands fell to your waist, holding you steady so you didn't topple straight into his wet skin. Your body burned where he touched, lighting your body into thick flames. You moved your eyes across the hair on his chest, across the moles that decorated his skin like constellations.
"Funny meeting you like this," He mumbled as his hands stayed glued to your hips, making all of your insides melt as you met his dark eyes, "What are you rushing around for?"
"Just getting ready for Robin," You replied once you found your voice, trying to act like you weren't picking out the different colors in his eyes, "She'll be here soon."
"Maybe," He said in agreement, speaking slowly as his eyes stayed glued to your lips, "Traffic is pretty bad at this time." He breathed out as he brushed his thumbs into your flesh. It was enough to topple you over.
"Steve," You breathed out softly, hotly as you stared at his pretty hazel eyes, "This can't happen again." You told him, wishing that your voice was fierce and stern.
"What can't happen again?" He asked, his eyes drifting down towards the curve of your lips. You darted your eyes across the freckles on his nose, desperately wanting to see just how far they decorated his skin.
"Us," You mumbled, fully aware of how close he was to you now, "It's wrong." You told him, feeling the electricity forming between the two of you. You thought of how well his cock had fit inside of you, how your walls had hugged his girth snuggly.
His gaze was dark and heavy again, just as it had been that night. You drifted your lips across his pretty pink lips, thinking of how nicely they'd molded against your own.
"I thought it was our little secret?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders softly as if it was no big deal. You skin erupted into flames as he continued to press his thumbs against your skin, nearly making you fall to your knees as you felt the shameful feeling fill you again.
You met his eyes fully for a moment, realizing just how desperately he wanted it too. You could deal with the guilt later; could live with it for the rest of your life. You just needed one thing at the moment. Him.
He brought his lips down against yours first, kissing you soft and hesitant. You moved your lips just as shyly before your body picked up, pressing yourself flush against his body as your mouth moved against his more urgently.
He brought his large hands to your face, cupping your cheeks as his lips became rough against yours. It was sloppy, messy and you savored it all.
You pushed him back, enjoying the way a groan left his mouth and tingled across your lips. It made you that more feverish, desperate to feel more of him as you tugged the towel free from his waist.
All previous thoughts had disappeared as you kissed down the curve of his neck, enjoying the soft sounds that rolled off of his tongue. He had the prettiest groans. It made your stomach twist in pleasure, made you desperate as you fell to your knees.
A gasp left his lips as he stared down at you, eyes dark and hazy as you wrapped your fingers around his thick girth. You enjoyed how he filled out in your hand, how pink his tip was and the way it throbbed against your skin.
"S'pretty," You breathed out, not caring how it sounded as his hips moved in the motions of your hand. You took a broad lick of the length of his cock, savoring how heavy and warm he felt against your tongue, "Like that?" You whispered, desperate to hear just how much he enjoyed you.
"Mhm," He groaned as he threaded his fingers through his own hair, his eyebrows wrinkling together as you wrapped your lips around his tip. You bobbed your head slowly, flicking your tongue across the underside of his cock as you breathed in the fresh scent of him, "Jesus, fuck. S'nice." He mumbled as he pressed his hips forward, thrusting his long cock further inside of your mouth.
Your lips burned as they stretched around his thick girth, your throat aching at the way he kept hitting the back of your throat. You felt your eyes fluttering from the rough motions but refused to look away from his pleasure.
Drool slid from the corner of your mouth as you gagged roughly around him. You moved your hands to his thighs, supporting yourself as you savored the taste of him on your tongue.
"Wait, wait," He breathed out roughly as he slowly slid his hard cock from your mouth, making a pout form on your lips as he panted out, "Wanna feel you. C'mere." He begged as he tugged you back onto your feet.
Your thighs trembled, your knees threatening to give out as he pressed you up against the wall. You ignored the way the pictures that were hanging shook, how they threatened to fall as he began stripping you from the clothes you had so delicately put on.
They fell into a pile by his towel, joining the discarded mess as he hooked your leg over his waist. You held onto his biceps, gasping as he began to drag his pink tip over your pretty pussy.
"Tell me to stop," He begged as he dropped his forehead against yours, his nose bumping against your skin softly, "Tell me to go away." He groaned as he slid his cock through your folds again, making you grind your hips forward.
You should. You should push him away and tell him to never touch you again. That was the smart thing to do. You didn't do that though. You couldn't even think about doing that.
"I want you," You said softly, slowly as you brought your eyes up towards his again. You rubbed your palms across his shoulders, touching him gently, "Please. I need you."
He nodded his head in agreement, groaning as he gripped the base of his cock and slowly slid himself inside of your wet hole. You gaped, letting your head fall back against the wall as the pleasure spread through your body.
His cock stretched you out, making your eyes flutter in bliss as he bottomed out inside of you. He rubbed at the back of your thigh, grunting as he slowly rutted into you.
A loud sigh left your mouth as you were sure nothing had ever felt this good before. You rocked against him, crying out at the way his cock curved inside of you. He fit snuggly, the tip of him pressing against your bundle of nerves with each little movement.
"Steve," You moaned as you dug your fingertips into his flesh, desperately needing him closer as he built up a steady rhythm. His skin met yours with urgency, rocking into you deeply as you pressed yourself even closer to him, "More. Please, please. I need you."
His grunts filled your ears, blending with the sound of your moans as you dragged his cock in and out of your wet cunt with a new sense of desperation. You moved your hands to his strong jawline, gripping him tightly before you brought your mouth up against his.
Your lips molded against his nicely, fitting perfectly before he slid his tongue against yours. You moaned at the sensation, whimpering as your stomach coiled in pleasure. The back of your neck grew warm and sweaty, your body burning at the perfect way his cock fit inside of you. Like a missing puzzle piece.
"Jesus," He grunted as he pulled away, a line of spit connecting you two as he rutted deeper into your cunt, "Feel so good. You feel so fucking good. So wet and tight. Squeezing me so good." He rambled out hoarsely, moaning between each word.
His words spread through your body, tickling you with pleasure and deep lust as you dragged your lips against the side of his mouth. You clung to him, squeezing roughly as the sound of your flesh meeting bounced off of the walls.
"God, Stevie," You whined as you rocked your hips against him, feeling incoherent with pleasure as your legs began to tremble, "Right there, oh my God. Fuck, fuck." You squealed in bliss, crying out as the pleasure tumbled through you.
Your body seized, your clit throbbing roughly as your pussy clamped down around his cock. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, pulsing as you shook around him.
“Fuck,” He groaned as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, thrusting into you slowly and deep as your orgasm continued to tingle through your body, “So fucking close. You feel so good.”
“Gonna cum inside me, Steve?” You asked him, whispering into his ear as his moans turned into whines. It made your body shiver, your fingers dig deep into his skin as he held you close. You could feel his sweaty skin pressing against yours, almost like you were molding together.
“Jesus,�� He groaned loudly before burying his face in your neck, moaning as he bottomed out inside of your wet cunt, “Fuck, fuck.” He whined, his cock twitching as thick ropes of his cum filled your fluttering hole.
You brushed your cheek against his, enjoying the way he panted into your skin as the feeling washed over you. It was sinful, dirty. But it was yours. Your own little secret to keep. You could live with that.
#steve harrington#Steve Harrington x reader#Steve Harrington x bi!reader#Steve harrington x reader smut#Steve Harrington smut#Steve Harrington x you#Steve Harrington x you smut#Steve Harrington x y/n#Steve Harrington x fem!reader#cheating#tw cheating
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pray, but heaven won’t let you back
Paring: vampire!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader
Summary: Since the night Steve lost control, he’s been pushing away, afraid to hurt you again. You’ll do anything to convince him you still trust him, even giving into the bloodlust he’s tried to avoid. || fic inspired by this post.
WC: 3k
CW/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, language, vampire nonsense/lore, blood play & blood sucking/feeding (nothing gory but still be cautious if you’re squeamish), mutual masturbation, dirty talk, lots of fluff and aftercare at the end
this is a modern vampire AU! can (kinda) be read as a standalone, but it’s a follow up to love’s the death of peace of mind and the bitter and the sweet.
A/N: i will never get sick of vampire!steve, so here’s another lil fic based off this post i saw earlier lmao. song title & lyrics are from worship - ari abdul. enjoy babes <3
pretty when you say my name like that / feel your lips trace down my neck / darlin', don't say nothin', just breathe
pretty when you're looking up like that / pray but Heaven won't let you back / good on your knees
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
It took one close call to push both you and Steve to question if you were right for one another. One slip up, where his lust for your blood called to him louder than usual; louder than your moans he earned through a skilled tongue you never grew tired of.
It took one close call for Steve to become rigid, self discipline at its height in your relationship.
It took one close call to set your desire in stone; you wanted Steve to turn you, wanted to join him in an eternity of a life you once believed wasn’t real.
Blood play wasn’t foreign before that night, but it was always controlled, always with moderation and care. Now that Steve lost control, even only for a minute, he didn’t trust himself with you. He began growing distant, physically and emotionally, and it was burrowing under your skin, deeper and deeper as time carried on.
Steve still loved you, and though you could tell because of his avoidant behavior, it hurt. It was for your sake, your safety, and he made that clear; yet you were becoming lonely and agitated without his touch.
Even beyond lust, you just wanted him to hold you, and you wanted to hold him. You missed the way he’d play pretend, acting irritated when you’d kiss him one too many times on the cheek in a day. You longed for the way either of you would roll over in your sleep, searching for the other subconsciously. You felt like a stranger to him, a ghost in the walls of the home you shared with him.
Maybe you were foolish to believe this love could last; this all started with a Halloween party hookup, after all. Just another pathetic mortal that fell prey to a vampire’s charm.
You’re getting ready to go out with some friends when something breaks Steve, just enough for him to see he’s losing you, letting you slip through his fingers that once held you tightly with possession and protection.
Sitting at the vanity, the warmth of the lights lining mirror feels good on your skin. It’s not that you avoid the daylight for Steve’s sake; the lore of vampires burning up in the sunlight was nothing more than a myth. The sun does, however, irritate the fuck out of most vampires, still too bright, but bothersome in a sensory overload sort of way more than threatening. But since the night Steve lost control, and you began losing him, you rarely left bed these days.
You deserved to feel the warmth, any warmth, after receiving a cold shoulder from Steve for awhile now. You’ve lost track of the days he began to back away, but it’s far too long despite the specifics.
While you’re fixing your makeup, wrapped in a long, silky, dusty rose robe, Steve walks in; he’s surprised to find you not only up and out of bed, but all dolled up, too.
“H- hey, love.” He goes to lean against the doorframe, but miscalculates how close he is to the frame, falling into it instead. You stifle a laugh, watching his figure fumble in your peripheral vision as you dust blush along your cheeks.
“Hi.”
He holds his breath while crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for a follow up with an expectant smile; it falls flat when you continue to ignore him.
“So… going somewhere?”
You still won’t look at him, another response multitasked as you work on your eye makeup. “Uh-huh.”
Steve’s eyes catch on the deep red, silky dress you have waiting for a night out, hung up on the door by its hanger. “Th- you’re going out in that?” He remembers gifting it to you for the holidays, joking he could never let you out of his sight if you wore it in public; he trusted you, but surely not any men around you.
Now, you’re planning on wearing it for the first time while out with your friends, and not him. Jealousy bubbles up within him.
“Your observational skills are great, Steve.” Your response is so harsh; even you feel bad for giving the frost right back to him.
“Thought you’d save it for one of our date nights,” He grumbles, like a child. You finally glance over at him, eyes narrowing as they meet his.
“What, do I need your permission to wear it?”
“No, don’t twist my words.”
“Steve, this is the most you’ve talked to me in weeks.” You leave the vanity to change into your dress. With a quick tug of the tie of your robe, it slinks to the floor. Your back is to him, missing the way his jaw slacks to the floor at the sight of your lingerie set: a red, lacy set that hugs your curves deliciously; another gift from him, one without reason. “What, are you jealous? I’m done moping around and waiting for your attention.”
Steve loved showering you in gifts, especially in his favorite color— how typical of a vampire to love the color red; though you tried insisting you needed nothing more but him, he couldn’t help himself from spoiling you.
A groan slips out of him as two things push to the front of his mind:
He’s painfully aroused, tenting in his tight pants, in need of relief.
That, and the bloodlust he’s been fighting since that close call is back, full force.
One minute, you’re reaching for the dress to change into, the next, he’s shoving you against the nearest wall. You gasp as he pins your arms above your head with one large hand easily holding both of your wrists.
“Steve—“
“Might wanna text your friends, let ‘em know you’re running late.” He rolls his hips into yours roughly, earning the first pleasing sound from you tonight; you whimper and pout as his other hand grabs you by the chin, grip hard. “Oh, princess, am I throwing your night off?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer while his hand leaves your face, wasting no time to grope your chest with a cruel touch. You arch into his grip and mewl, eyes fluttering shut as he kicks your legs apart before slotting a leg against your core. Instinctively, you grind onto his thigh, heat already sticky through the lacy fabric you wear.
“Might not make it there at all, huh?” He’s mocking you, taunting you, and you’re infuriated. You’re pissed he’s pulling this after weeks of being distant, and you’re really pissed at yourself for instantly melting under his touch.
Pushing through the haze of desire, you glare at him. “Steve, enough.”
“Oh, c’mon, since when are you not into—“
“I said enough.”
You’re trying to steady your breaths as you hold a cold stare with him; his features falter, hands releasing you before stepping back.
“I’m sorry,” Any and all confidence is thrown out the window as he shrinks under your vexed gaze. “I- I— I’ve just— fuck. I fucked up, alright?”
You’re nowhere near as strong as him, yet when you push him back with your hand on his chest, he stumbles back. You push him again, and again, and once more, until the backs of his legs hit the bed, throwing his balance off. He falls back onto the mattress, panting lightly as his stare is fixated on you above him.
“You can’t do this shit, Steve. You can’t touch me when you want then leave me alone like nothing matters. I told you I’m not afraid of you, I trust you.”
“Yeah, and I cracked any trust by losing control—“
“Steve, this is who you are!” You reach out, cradling his head in your hands on either side of his face. He can’t resist leaning into your touch, guilt playing up on his features. “I’ve accepted that from the start. I’ve accepted the risk since the first night together. What I didn’t accept or agree to was being treated like a total stranger by the one I love most.”
“I know. I know. I just wanted to keep you safe. All I want is for you to be safe, and happy. All I want is for you to feel loved, and I hurt you instead. I’m sorry.” He sounds so pained, nuzzling into your palm while he grabs your arm, pushing your hand against his face harder.
Aside from the last few weeks, there have never been moments where you felt shoved away, or less than Steve. And now, it’s only happening because he thought it would protect you. Just the honest admission alone shows you he meant well, even if he hurt you. It wasn’t intentional, just like the night he lost control. He knows he hurt you, but it was never intentional.
You can tell Steve is fighting the instinctual hunger for your blood; his eyes are dark with desire, but teetering on the edge of falling into that deep red shade that could only signal trouble. His grip on your arm shakes as he restrains himself from overpowering you again.
You try to keep him with you, asking softly, “Make it up to me?”
“H- how? I’ll do anything, anything you want, love.” His breaths run shallow as you straddle his lap, hands snaking around to the back of his head; you gently push his face towards your neck, but he leans back. “I— okay, anything but— honey, I can’t.”
“You want to.”
“Doesn’t m- mean I should.” Steve is so conflicted; he wants this, he needs you. You want him, you need him, too. But it’s a risk with the odds against him.
“I’m giving you the green light, Steve.” You kiss his forehead, then his cheek, leading to his lips. Before you kiss them, you murmur, “I trust you.”
He closes the gap with a frantic kiss, one arm slinking around your hips to your back, the other exploring your body clumsily. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth, fangs scraping along the skin. You yelp, and Steve stops.
“Love, we— this is—“ His gaze sinks deeper into that shade of red you once knew as a signal for danger, but you trust him. You know him. You know he’d never take it too far, not to a level where you couldn’t handle it. “You’re not— I’m not ready to turn you yet—“
“I didn’t expect that. I wouldn’t complain, but I promise that’s not what I’m asking for right now.” You roll your hips onto his bulge, strained under the tight fabric of his pants still. “I’m just asking you to trust me. Trust me, to trust you.”
Steve searches your gaze for any doubt, any signs of faltering or second guessing; there’s only certainty and adoration. You nod softly, encouraging him once more.
In a flash, you’re thrown to the pillows at the top of the bed, landing on them with a surprised laugh. Steve crawls above you, with a warm smile of his own, despite the red in his gaze.
“You’ll stop me if—“
“Yes, yeah, just—“
He cuts you off with a rough kiss, fangs poking at your lips before he kisses along your jawline, trailing to your neck. When he reaches the crook of your neck, he sucks softly, earning airy moans from you while you grab him by his shirt. He laughs breathily into your skin, tickling you.
“Starting to think you like this more than I do,” He teases after pulling off your neck, spit with a hint of red dripping from the corner of his mouth. You nod with a dazed giggle, a sound he’s missed so, so dearly since pushing away. “I’m so sorry, love.” He ducks into your neck again, murmuring in between kisses, “You’re my everything.”
Stealing the spotlight from your answer, he tests the waters by sinking his fangs into your neck, ever so slightly. You gasp, arching up into him.
“Sensitive little thing,” He teases, kitten licking at the few drops of blood on your skin. He delves back in, sinking his fangs a little deeper. A sharp, pained gasp leaves your lips, and it’s almost enough to make him stop, but it dissolves into a satisfied moan. “What’d you think was gonna happen tonight? You’d find someone else?”
Here comes the possessive attitude you always crave.
“N- no, don’t want anyone else but you.”
He’s lapping at the blood now, sucking intermittently as it flows out. He’s in such a heady daze, beginning to whimper into your skin.
“S’what I thought, princess.” He sucks stronger this time, groaning into you as he feeds. “Fuck, y’taste so goddamn good, love.”
You’re reaching the dizzy, intoxicating thrill achieved only when Steve takes you like this. The only sensation that has ever come close is when he chokes you, plays with your air and blood flows, but it’s never the same as when he feeds off your blood.
Giggly and growing lightheaded, the pain has become full pleasure to you at this point. “You ever cum from sucking blood?” The question is silly, to you, but not to Steve. He lets out a guttural moan, mouth still on your skin. The teamwork of his fangs in your neck, his lips sucking blood out, and his tongue soothing over the wounds make you whine and writhe underneath him.
“Every time y’let me drink yours— f- fuck—“
You didn’t even notice his pants were finally down, halfway, at least; he’s fisting his cock, precum spilling onto you from his rosy, swollen tip while he continues to work at your neck. The noises he makes are pornographic at this point. You reach around to hold him, hand to the back of his head, cradling him close.
“Touch yourself, love.”
Obeying, your other hand slides down between the two of you, fingers finally meeting your clit. You lazily rub in circles, eyes fluttering shut with a blissed out smile. “Steve…”
“This turns you on just as much as it does for me, huh?” You always gonna be fucked out every time I drink from you?”
You nod, head in the clouds; the two of your hands continue to bump against one another every so often, setting off little grunts and whimpers. “Uh-huh…”
“Imagine h- how wrecked you’ll be when I…” His hips stutter as he continues jerking off. “… when I turn you. Might like sucking blood more than y’like sucking my cock.”
You gasp at his words, nodding wildly as he pulls back, looking down at you with devotion and desire.
“You doin’ okay, love?” Steve asks, shuddering, close to his high. “Can I- I- m’so close…”
You hum with a dopey smile, “Here,” is all you can manage to say as you pull your bra down, exposing your chest. Steve only lasts a second longer before he finally reaches his high, spilling onto your tits as he moans lowly, echoing against the walls. The sight of him coming undone above you, the feeling of his spend against your skin, the intoxication of losing blood, it’s all more than enough to follow him with your own climax.
Moaning for only a moment, Steve pushes forward, crashing his lips into yours, melding together with the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue. When he pulls back, you’re left panting sleepily, fucked out despite only getting off from your own touch and his fangs in your neck.
“Love, you know it’ll be hard to turn you knowing I’d have to give this up, right?” You reach up to him, gently touching his face. He takes your hand in his, kissing the back of your knuckles softly.
“S’okay, we can wait a lil’ longer.” You watch the shade of red in his eyes settle into the calm, muted red they usually are. Before you can praise him for being successful in holding himself under control, he kisses you quickly.
“Stay here, gonna get some stuff to clean up,” He does exactly that, returning with towels to clean off with and a first aid kit. He hands over a water bottle to you, careful not to make you spill it as he runs his tongue softly along the wounds, healing them with ease as he’s done plenty of times before. The first aid kit is kind of useless by now, but he still properly cleans around the newly healed wounds.
When Steve finishes, he gently lifts your head up toward his, searching for any signs of distress. “How’re you feeling?”
“Sleepy.”
He nods, “No tingling or weird feelings like last time, right?”
“Right,” You smile, curling up next to him with a content sigh. “Can we take a bubble bath?”
“You’re half asleep,” Shaking his head, he chuckles, “I don’t want you to drown.”
“Says the guy who just stabbed my neck with his teeth.”
“Yeah, you’re fine. The sass is back.” Then he remembers, you had plans. “Hey, did you get to tell your friends you weren’t coming? Sorry for stealing your night, love.”
“I didn’t have plans, just was hoping that’d get your attention finally,” You snuggle even closer, resting your head on his chest. Meanwhile, he scoffs out a laugh as he finds out you tricked him. He couldn’t even be mad, though, because it worked. Breaking his thoughts, you mutter, “You did it, y’know.”
Steve’s brows furrow, “What’d I do?” He’s lost, assuming you’re babbling sleepily.
“Your eyes changed back. You didn’t lose control.” You’re falling into slumber fast. “I meant it when I said I trust you, Steve.”
He kisses the top of your head, arms holding you close. “I trust you, love. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
You’re down for the count, only able to murmur back, “Love you, Steve.” He watches as your breaths fall low and steady, finding safety and comfort while the two of you are back where you belong— in each other’s arms.
Steve’s nowhere near ready to turn you, but when the time comes, he’s certain it’s part of both of your futures, intertwined into one. He knows now the two of you are meant to spend eternity together.
Until then, he’ll cherish this complicated love between human and vampire; he’ll cherish you as you are now, before that becomes a mere memory once he brings you over to his side of life.
Eyes growing heavy, Steve whispers to you, now fast asleep, “I love you, too. ‘Til the end of time.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington smut#vampire!steve harrington#my fics#pray but heaven won’t let you back
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