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#sugardaddy!steve harrington
ohwowimlonley · 4 months
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sugar daddy steve being so nervous to give you the first big present bc he’s scared you won’t like it and r! is just like omfg i love you like what the fuck i’m literally in love with you i’m gonna give you 12 billion kisses on your face rn
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“Look if you dont like it, you can just have the money instead, it’s really not a big deal,” he reiterrates, mumbling to himself, “it’s stupid anyways, don’t even know why I did it,”
“Stevie, just let me see!” You preen, doing your best inspection of the gift bag in Steve’s hands as you bounce about on the balls of your feet, your body buzzing with excitement, “you always give the best gifts!”
He blushes a deep red and holds the bag out towards you, refusing to make eye contact as you open it up and gasp at the contents.
“STEVE!” This time your voice is somehow even higher in pitch, and you launch yourself at him, squeezing him with your thighs and arms, forcing him to hold you up in his strong arms.
“You like it then?” He grins, securing his muscled arms around your waist and walking you over to his bed.
“Like it?” You roll your eyes playfully, letting out a loud ‘oof’ as he flops the both of you onto his bed, “I love it! You’re the best boyfriend in the whole wide world!”
You hold his face in between your hands, squishing his cheeks so his lips form a pout and smooching every available sliver of skin made available to you, not stopping when he starts protesting, not even when he begins digging his fingers into your most ticklish places. You just continue loving on him, through your gleeful laughter.
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katyswrites · 8 months
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don't call me 'baby'
PART 9 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst (so much angst, sorry), unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, kind of a derogatory reference to sex work, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 5.4k
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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PART 9 | forever the name on my lips
“So - Robin knows that this surprise party isn’t actually a surprise, right?” you asked.
Steve laughed over the phone.
“Uh, no - she 100 percent thinks you have no clue.”
You groaned. “I’m terrible at lying to her -”
“You’re not lying - look, you should see how excited she is -”
You rolled your eyes, putting the phone down on your desk and putting him on speaker. 
“You’re an enabler, you know that?”
“I am not -”
“You so are!” you retorted. “Every year, Robin tries to make my birthday a bigger thing than it is - it’s always over-the-top, and never what I ask for. I usually just like, want to go get drinks, or watch my favorite movie at home, but she decides to invite over 40 of our closest friends instead, or pull out some trick to outdo the year before. Did you know that our first year we lived together, she almost burned our place down by putting 18 trick candles on my cake?”
“Your point being?”
You sighed, leaning over the desk closer to the mirror to put on your mascara.
“My point being that you’ve taken a monster, and given her a real budget this time.”
He laughed again, and the sound of it made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, thankful he couldn’t see you right now.
“Look, I think she’s doing this because she loves you - plus, she’s mad that I stole you away for your actual birthday, so this was my bribe.”
You sighed, stepping back to pull on your dress - another new one you had commissioned, thanks to Steve’s credit card.
“I’m going to really have to practice my surprised face,” you said sarcastically. 
You reached for your earrings on the dresser, the ones Steve had bought you for the gala. You didn’t love the idea of walking around with a million dollars on your ears, but it was a special occasion, after all.
“What has she told you you’re allegedly doing?” he asked, voice tinny and slightly muffled through the phone’s speaker.
“Just meeting some friends for dinner - but, she said to dress a little nicer than usual. I can’t believe she thinks I don’t suspect anything.”
“Maybe she does - maybe you’re both putting up a silly charade for no reason, just to spare feelings.”
You nearly scoffed, but stopped yourself - he had no clue how much you were doing that with him already.
It had been nearly a week since you and Steve had returned from your birthday getaway. Since then, you had been spiraling. Every time you thought of him, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When you were with him, it felt so right - when you were alone, you felt lonelier than you ever had before. You gave it a few days, just to see if the blissful environment of being on vacation was just tricking you into thinking  you had real feelings for Steve. After all, that wasn’t reality… right?
But now, nearly a week later, you nearly felt sick when you thought about him - the sight of him made your heart flutter, every nice gesture and sweet compliment made your stomach flip and your face bloom with heat. You were hopelessly in love - you were so stupid.
Since the trip, you and Steve hadn’t spent much time together. Part of it was him getting slammed with work - a relief, honestly. It had given you time to try and have some rational thought, and sort out your feelings. You getting your period right upon return to Rome also put a dent in things - you hadn’t exactly been feeling up to sex, which Steve had been understanding about. But, this had only made things worse - he still took you out to dinner a few days ago, insisting on still wanting to see you, if you were up for it. Afterwards, you had gone back to his place and just put on a movie, falling asleep on the couch. It was the first time you had ever slept over without having sex - somehow, more intimate than anything you had done up to that point.  In short - you were screwed. 
But, now you had to go to this godforsaken birthday party, with Steve in front of all of your friends, and act like everything was fine. In some ways, it was. But in others… the end of summer was fast approaching. And, the thought of that left a pit in your stomach.
“You still there?” Steve’s voice asked.
“Oh, yeah,” you said, zipping up the back of your dress. “Sorry, I’m just getting ready -”
“What are you wearing?” he asked jokingly.
“Shut up -”
“Right - that’s for later,” he said. You could practically hear him smirking through the phone. You roll your eyes again.
“Well, I’m ready to go, and I’m sure Robin is itching to get me out the door, so - see you in a bit?”
“Yes - except, you don’t know that,” he said.
“Oh of course - well, I’ll be sure to act surprised.”
“I’m sure you’ll kill it - see you, bye,” he said, promptly hanging up.
You didn’t take time to dwell on it, how formal he still could be sometimes - reminding you of exactly who you were to him, you supposed - as Robin started knocking on your door, asking if you were ready to go.
“Just a minute!” you cried. You reached for the dresser for a final thing - the ruby necklace Steve had given you for your birthday. When you opened the bedroom door to an impatient Robin in the doorway, you were clasping it on.
“Jesus - where did you get that?” she asked, gesturing to the jewel on your sternum.
“Birthday gift from Steve.”
Robin crossed her arms, shaking her head.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing, it’s just - how’s that going?”
“Fine,” you lied. “I told you, the vacation was fun -”
“Doesn’t it all just seem - like a bit too much?” she asked cautiously.
“I - what do you mean -”
“Well - the trip, the gifts, being with him for hours on the phone every night - it just feels like he’s more than a - benefactor, sugar daddy, whatever you want to call it -”
You felt your face heat.
“Robin - no - it’s just - it’s an arrangement, and it’s going the way we both said it would -”
Robin just stared at you for a moment, and sighed with defeat. 
“Whatever you say. Just - be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt again -”
“I’m fine,” you said firmly. “I promise.”
A lie.
“C’mon - let’s go out,” you said, quickly changing the subject and heading for the door.
Robin didn’t get the chance to argue further.
*****
You took the bus towards the city center, walking a few blocks before reaching one of your favorite restaurants - you and Robin frequented the bar more than the tables, often going there to celebrate the end of the semester, or to drink your sorrows away after a breakup or shitty week.
“You could have just said we were coming here,” you said, letting Robin take your hand to lead you inside.
Robin just shrugged, and you could tell she was fighting a grin - she really is terrible at keeping secrets. But, you did your best to keep your face neutral.
When you walked inside, the place was dimly lit. You could practically feel Robin’s anticipation behind you, and felt inwardly thankful that she couldn’t see your face. Then, the lights flashed on, and you were bombarded with an uproaring “SURPRISE!”
Even though you were anticipating it, you still jumped - it was far more people than you had been expecting. 
“Holy shit -”
Robin was practically bouncing, grinning. “Happy birthday, babe.”
You shook your head. “I - did you invite like, everyone we know?”
She nodded excitedly. “Mm hm! And the whole place is rented out, so it’s just us - open bar too!”
How much did this cost Steve? you wondered.
“Robin - you really didn’t have to do all this -”
“Oh hush - your boy toy took you away from me on your birthday, so we’re celebrating now.”
You laughed, pulling Robin in for a quick hug.
“Thanks, Robs.”
She was positively beaming, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve known about this for two weeks, that Steve had told you when he and Robin had been texting, how he had put his credit card down for the whole thing. So, you just smiled, and squeezed her tighter.
“Well,” she said when she pulled away, “you need a drink - your usual?”
You nodded, watching as she headed over to the bar. Soon enough, it was a whirlwind of friends, classmates, old co-workers, and essentially anyone you would even consider a friendly acquaintance swarming you, giving you a hug and wishing you happy birthday. There was even a DJ, playing all of your favorite music, the tables cleared to the sides to make the space empty enough to fit everyone - you were certain the evening would descend into dancing soon enough. Robin soon enough returned with your drink, and you let yourself actually relax. 
Then, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you feel yourself jump. You turn, smiling.
“Hey there, baby,” Steve said, pulling you close.
When did he start calling you that outside of the bedroom?
“Fancy seeing you here,” you joked. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
“What do you think of your party?” he asked.
“I think you’ve been too good to me.”
“Well, this was all Robin - I just helped.”
“If that’s what you’re telling yourself - I - thank you,” you whispered. “You really didn’t have to.”
He waved you off. “Nonsense - I like spoiling you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he added, his fingers coming to brush the pendant hanging from your neck.
The butterflies were back. Fuck.
“Only because you give me such pretty things to wear,” you retorted.
He laughed. “I’ll buy you every pretty thing you want, baby.”
Your heart fluttered, and you looked down into your glass to avoid eye contact. 
Then, a familiar voice was calling your name. You looked up, and smiled.
“Eddie?”
“Bella, look at you!” he said, bounding over and pulling you out of Steve’s grasp and into a tight hug. You laughed, Eddie practically lifting you off of your feet.
“You’re stunning, as always -” he says once he puts you down.
“Oh, shut up - flattery will get you nowhere -”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t blame a man for trying, right?”
He then glanced over your shoulder.
“Steve, right?”
Steve nodded stiffly, forcing a smile.
“You two look gorgeous - want a picture?” Eddie asked, holding up the camera hanging around his neck.
“Oh, sure - Steve?” you asked, turning to silently plead with him.
Then he was back by your side again, arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close.
“Smile!” Eddie said from where he was crouching behind the lens. You did, posing for the photo. The shutter started rapid-fire clicking, and after a moment, you felt Steve’s lips on your cheek, and your face heated. You did your best to ignore it, letting Eddie get a few more shots as you pressed closer into him.
“What a beautiful couple!” Eddie proclaimed, grinning into the viewfinder. 
“Oh - Eddie, we’re -”
“She’s doing the heavy-lifting there!” Steve joked. You froze, unsure how to even address that. But Eddie just chuckled, saying something along the lines of you didn’t need to tell me that! and walking away, making a beeline for the bar.
Before you could say anything to Steve, Robin is running over, taking you by the hands.
“Sorry Steve, can I steal her?” 
He nodded with a smile, letting go of you as Robin pulled you through the crowd, babbling on about how Vickie’s ex had the audacity to show up, and how someone brought their boyfriend uninvited, and a hundred other things you would normally care about.
Steve hadn’t said no when Eddie called you a couple - what the fuck?
But, the next few hours were a whirlwind - you had lost count of how many drinks you had, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen all summer, learning who's dating who, what their plans were for the upcoming semester, asking how you’re doing - you decidedly did not mention that you had spent all summer as the mistress of a man a decade older than you - still, it felt nice to see your friends again, to catch up and try to relax. You ate your fill in the food spread that had been put out, all of your favorite things from the menu, a few extra things that Robin must have requested specially. So many of your friends remarked on how well you looked, how you were glowing, admiring your jewelry and asking where you got it (which, you pointedly lied about). Even Jonathan Byers showed up, the sweet yet introverted guy who you had befriended in one of your art courses. You were chatting with him and Eddie about their upcoming photography portfolios when you saw Steve again, approaching with a new drink for you.
“Oh, hey,” you said, accepting it gratefully.
“Having fun?” Steve asked, casting a glance to your friends.
“Yeah! Uh, Steve, you know Eddie, and this is Jonathan - not sure if you two met yet.”
“Nice to meet you,” Steve said, extending his hand. Jonathan hesitated, then took it, letting Steve shake it firmly.
Then, Steve’s lips pressed to your ear, whispering, “Want to dance?”
You bit your lip, nodding, and bid farewell to the other boys for now. The makeshift dance floor was starting to fill up now, your friends moving along to the music and spilling drinks onto the floor. 
“So, does Eddie know how to button a shirt?” Steve asked sarcastically.
You huffed.
“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous -”
“I - I’m not. He’s just - he’s such a flirt -”
‘He’s a flirt with everyone - he’d shoot his shot with you, if I left you two alone.”
Steve’s face turned red at that. 
“I - uh -”
“Besides,” you whispered, pulling him closer by his shirt collar, admiring the way his chest hair just barely peeked out of the open top button, “I kind of like how easily he gets you riled up.”
Steve rolled his eyes.
You closed your eyes, swaying to the music.
“When was the last time you did something like this?” you asked over the cacophony, gesturing to the club-like atmosphere around you. He laughed.
“I’m not that old - but, probably not since a little after I finished college… when I started working, I didn’t really have the energy for… all of this. And… Nancy never liked it much anyway.”
You felt your heart sink, and shook your head. You were properly tipsy, had the confidence to pull Steve toward you, taking his hands in yours. 
“Then - dance with me like you’re 20 again, yeah?”
“Again, I’m not old -”
“Will you just shut up and dance?” you said, pulling him close. He obliged, letting you bury your face into his neck as you swayed along to the music.
He twirled you, watched on fondly as you found your friends on the dance floor, and laughed as he saw how excited each new song made you. At one point, you caught him looking at you in the corner of your eye - he wore an expression so soft, so sincere, that he was almost unrecognizable.
“What is it?” you asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing - I just -”
“Where’s the birthday girl?” Robin’s voice called from the other end of the room. The music faded, and she came out from behind the bar with a massive cake, lit with what you guessed were probably 21 candles.
“Everyone! 1 - 2 - 3-”
Then everyone was singing you Happy Birthday, pushing you towards the front to where Robin stood, wearing a wide smile. 
“Make a wish,” she whispered.
You sighed, knowing exactly what to wish for, and leaned down to blow out the candles to boisterous applause.
“Chocolate cake with mousse, of course - your favorite,” Robin said, serving you the first slice.
“I’d expect nothing less,” you replied, accepting it gratefully - it’s been the kind of cake you’ve gotten for every birthday for as long as you remembered. Even your parents remembered that each year, to their credit.
“Want a slice?” you asked, turning to Steve.
“Oh - no, I’m okay -”
“At least taste a bite?”
He sighed, smiling in defeat.
“Yeah, okay.”
You took a forkful and held it out to him, feeding it into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, fighting a smile.
“Yeah, okay - that’s delicious -”
“I told you -”
Then Steve reached out, gently wiping away what you presumed was some smeared chocolate from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.
“Did you have a nice birthday party?” he asked softly.
“Yeah - I did. Just - everything for my birthday was wonderful. I - thank you.”
Then he was pulling you close and kissing you, on the lips, in front of everyone. You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into the kiss, tasting just a bit of chocolate on his lips, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.
You pulled away, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“What was that for?”
He shrugged.
“I just really wanted to do that - is that okay?”
You nodded, eyes flitting to his lips again as your stomach did a somersault. You were so aware of eyes on you two, some whispers floating through the room despite the loud music, but you pulled him down for another kiss again, lacing your hands around the back of his neck.
“Take me home with you,” you whispered against his lips.
“Now?”
“Now.”
Then he was grabbing your hand, only slowing down as you bid goodbye to Robin, thanking her for the party, and you both practically bolted towards the door.
*****
It was nearly midnight by the time you reached Steve’s place - not that it mattered. You had jumped him nearly the second you got in the car he had called, closing the privacy shield between yourselves and the driver. You technically behaved yourselves - clothes stayed on, at least. But you kissed him like you needed him more than oxygen, all tongue and desperate gasps as you moved to straddle his lap in the backseat. You were grinding on his thigh, palming him through his pants like horny teenagers in their mom’s old Honda. 
You tore out of the car like bats out of Hell when you reached his apartment building, only maintaining self-control in the elevator thanks to the old man who got on with you and rode it most of the way. The moment you tumbled through Steve’s door, you were all over each other, shedding clothes in a trail leading to the bedroom.
“I missed this,” you breathed against his mouth, shedding him of his button-down.
“Me too,” he said, reaching to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor.
“Steve - I want to thank you - for my birthday party - for everything -”
“Mm, okay - yeah baby, whatever you want -”
It was desperate, messy, and filled with carnal need, Steve tearing your undergarments off as he practically threw you onto the bed. He wasted no time, eating you out like your pussy gave him oxygen, making you cum on his tongue twice before even taking his pants off. You pulled on his hair, crying out his name as he coaxed your orgasms out of you, slowly kissing his way back up your body until his face hovered above yours. He was grinning, his chin glistening with your release, and you could have just stared at that forever.
“Steve, please -” you begged, “I need you -”
“I know, baby,” he said, crawling over you. “I just wanted to take care of you first, it’s okay -”
Then he was kissing you, fumbling with his belt and shedding himself of his boxers, pulling you close.
It had only been a week, but you nearly screamed when he entered you, gasping at the stretch.
“Fuck - you’re always so tight and perfect, baby - I haven’t fucked you since we got back to the city, it was drivin’ me nuts -”
“Me too,” you mewled, clawing at his back as he began to thrust into you. “Steve - please fuck me, please -”
And he did. But, the earlier desperation had faded - he rolled his hips into yours slowly, holding you close as he groaned into your skin. He pressed kisses to your neck, showering you with praises and sweet nothings in your ear. It didn’t feel like primal, needy sex - it almost felt like making love. He was soft, gentle, but knew your body better than anyone by now, touching you in all the right places.
“You’re so beautiful, so perfect -” he murmured, smirking as you moaned at a particularly deep thrust, “my whole life, I’ve been looking for a pussy like yours, baby -”
“I - ah! Fuck, I - I know what you mean. You fuck me like nobody else - daddy, I -”
“I know, baby,” he said, pressing gentle kisses across your face. “Look at you, wearin’ the fuckin’ jewelry I bought you as I fuck you - I love when you do that - you’ve been so good, letting me spoil you all summer - like a good girl, I can’t believe it -”
He was rambling now, and you knew that meant he was close. You wrapped your legs around his torso, digging your heels into his back to pull him in impossibly deeper. Pleasure pulsed through your body, heat gathering in your abdomen, and you started meeting his thrusts with your hips in earnest.
“You close?” he asked. 
“Yes - I’m going to cum all over your cock, sir -”
“Thank god - I’m not going to last much longer -”
“I know - let go,” you said, pulling him down for a messy kiss. He groaned against your lips, his cock twitching a bit inside you.
“I just wanna stay buried in this pussy, baby - forever -”
“I know,” you whispered. “I never want this to end.”
You never wanted any of it to end. 
But you held onto him with desperation, losing yourself in the feel of him, his scent, the sound of his voice -
All that was running through your mind was I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlo-
Then you were coming, convulsing around him with a scream. You arched off of the mattress, burying your face in his shoulder as your orgasm washed over you in waves, ebbing and flowing gently instead of crashing all at once. He followed moments later, hips stuttering as he filled you, your name on his lips like it was a sacred thing.
You both stayed like that for a while - you stared at the ceiling, soothingly running your fingers through his hair as he lazily kissed your neck. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually he began to soften, forcing him to pull out of you and roll over onto your back by your side. 
You turned your head on the pillow to face him - he was blissed out, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“I think that was our best yet,” he whispered. 
You hummed in agreement - you had felt it the night of your birthday in the villa, too - something had shifted in bed. Yyou couldn’t quite place it. But, you knew it scared the hell out of you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers along your arm.
“Mm, yeah - just thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind?”
You could’ve cried from the gentleness in his voice, your heart fluttering a bit as you looked at him - you did your best to memorize his face, the way his hair fell, every freckle and mole along his body - and it hit you that this was ending soon. You didn’t even realize you had started to cry - but, hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“Whoa - you okay? What’s going on?” he asked - he sounded terrified.
“It’s nothing - don’t worry about it -” you said, sitting up.
“Baby, you’re crying - of course I’m going to be worried -”
“Why?” you cried, the question coming out harsher than you had intended.
His face flashed with confusion and concern, and he sat up, too.
“What do you mean why?”
“Because - because you’re not supposed to care!”
“I - I don’t understand -”
“Steve! What the fuck are we doing here?”
“We - we were having a nice night, I thought - now I don’t -”
You wiped your tears, groaning with frustration.
“Steve - I don’t know how to be around you. You said this was just for sex, right? All fun, no feelings, all that bullshit? We literally wrote it down -”
His face went more neutral, and he nodded.
“Well, yes - that was the arrangement -”
“So then you don’t get to ask me what’s wrong - you don’t get to ask me how my day was, plan my birthday party with my best friend, call me nearly every night, name a goddamn star after me -”
“Whoa - you don’t like that I did those things?”
“No!” you screamed, frustrated. “I don’t like that you’re being my boyfriend!”
“I - I’m not your boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’ve made that very clear - so you can stop acting like it!”
You didn’t realize how loud your voice had gotten, your breakdown quickly pivoting to unbridled anger and frustration.
“I’m not - so what, you want me to fuck you and just send you home? Like a goddamn prostitute?”
“Well maybe if you had done that in the first place you would’ve saved yourself a whole lot of trouble!” you screamed.
He went silent for a moment, just staring at you. You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples.
“Steve, look - this summer - I mean, it’s been amazing. I really mean that. But, the summer is ending soon - when do you even go back to the States?”
“September 1st,” he said quietly.
You froze, your heart plummeting. “Jesus Christ, that’s in like two weeks - when were you going to tell me?”
He stared down at his hands, shaking his head.
“I - I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you - I just wanted you to enjoy tonight, and not ruin it, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I figured if I didn’t tell you, it would make it less real -”
“So you were just going to disappear on me?”
“No! No - I -”
He throws his head into his hands.
“Steve - look me in the eyes and tell me this is still just an arrangement for you.”
A moment of silence passes - there it was, your cards laid on the table. Your heart was thudding in your chest, waiting for his answer.
He sighed, and looked over to meet your gaze. 
“Of course it isn’t.”
Your stomach flipped, and you felt like you were going to be sick - oh God -
“Then - what the fuck do we do?”
He shook his head.
“I - I don’t know,” he admitted. “I - I don’t know what the fuck is even going on. I told myself I wouldn’t get… attached, and now -”
You scoffed.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s just - attached? Like a fucking dog you found on the street and have to give back to its owners or something?”
“Well, what would you call it?”
You paused - you considered confessing everything, that you were past the point of falling for him. No, you couldn’t - you needed to keep that close to your chest, not give him the upper hand.
“Steve - maybe we should just end this,” you said, the words feeling like a knife to the chest as they left your mouth.
“What? No - I - I don’t want to -”
“Steve - you said it yourself - if we got any personal feelings, we would stop the whole thing, before it got too far - we’re only delaying the inevitable anyway -”
“Come back with me,” he blurted out.
You stop mid-sentence, eyes widening.
“I - what?”
“Come back to Chicago with me - we can just do it. I can take care of you -”
“Steve - I can’t -”
“Why not?”
You just laughed dryly.
“Because - I have a life here. I have friends, a semester left before I get my degree -”
“You won’t need to work if you -”
“You really don’t get it, do you? I want to finish school, actually achieve something, and do something that matters to me. I know, you look down on me as some downtrodden peasant or something -”
“No, that’s not it -”
“But I’m smart, and when I’m done with school - I may not be rich like you, but I’ll be able to work for a living, and actually support myself. I don’t want to just exist for you -”
“I didn’t mean that,” he said - you were both raising your voices again. “This summer…it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. I just - I want to help you -”
“Well stop! I don’t need you!” you screamed.
He went silent for a moment.
“That’s what Nancy said, too,” he said quietly.
You sighed, your heart breaking for him.
“Steve - I didn’t know -”
“Maybe there’s a reason,” he continued, staring down to avoid your gaze. “I mean - you’re right - I’m meant to be alone.”
“I never said that -”
“You didn’t have to.”
You both sat in silence for a moment, unable to say anything else.
“Steve - I’m sorry that this is where the night went. But… we both knew this was coming. I - I think we’re going to both get hurt if we try to keep it going.”
He nodded, shoulders sagging.
“You’re probably right.”
There it was. The moment you had been dreading. 
The silence was deafening - neither of you daring to look at one another, letting the weight sink in of everything just said. You were certain you were going to be sick. 
“I - I should probably give these back,” you said quietly, gesturing to the earrings and necklace. You reached up to take them off, but he gently placed his hand on yours to stop you.
“No - keep it. Keep everything.”
“Steve -”
“No - nothing that I gave you was a loan. It’s yours. Keep onto the credit card, too.”
“Steve - I can’t do that -”
“Sure you can. Only use it for emergencies, if it makes you feel better to do that. As long as you don’t go over the limit… it’s yours.”
You shook your head.
“I can’t -”
“Please,” he said, eyes pleading. “At least until you’re done with school - focus on your studies, I’ll take care of it.”
“But - I’m not giving you anything in return -”
“Doesn’t matter. I promised to help you with school, and - I’m a man of my word.”
You sighed with defeat.
“I - I think I should go.”
“Probably best,” he said coldly. You couldn’t even blame him for that.
You gathered your things quickly, pulling your dress back on. He rose to follow you to the door, pulling on his boxers as he went. He stood in the doorway as you left, his face stoic - was he angry? Or did he just feel nothing? Maybe the latter - you were in love… and he had grown attached, whatever that meant.
“I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered.
“I suppose so.”
He won’t look at you.
“Steve - you’re going to find someone someday who’s right for you, okay? Someone you’ll actually want to be with. Then you won’t need - you won’t need someone like me. You’ll forget all about this - I know you will.”
Something softened in his face, and he shook his head.
“I somehow doubt that.”
You stared down at the ground.
“I guess this is goodbye,” you murmured.
He nodded.
“I wouldn’t change any of it,” he said quietly.
You could actually feel your heart breaking, crackling and splitting like it was made of porcelain. You still avoided eye contact, afraid you’d cry if you looked at him.
“My car can take you home,” he added.  “I don’t want you taking the bus this late, okay?”
You nodded solemnly. As you turned to leave, he said one more thing that stopped you in your tracks.
“Wait - I just wanted to say -”
He stopped for a moment, running his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath.
“I wish you well.”
That was it - the final nail in the coffin. The end of a failed negotiation, a transaction. You nodded firmly, turning quickly on your heels and walking straight ahead to the elevator, refusing to look back at him.
The moment you slid into the car, you gave the driver your address and closed the privacy shield again. But now, it was so you could sob into your hands, feeling your heart break in half as you pulled away from his apartment for the last time.
author's note: hi everyone - sorry about this chapter. The next part will be the finale - plus, an epilogue. I'll probably just write those together and post them in quick succession. Don't panic - you guys know I don't like writing sad endings (or if I do, I leave massive warnings). So, hang tight - it's going to be okay. Please let me know your thoughts - comments, reblogs, and messages are always appreciated!
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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 5 months
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Princess Tratment
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SugarDaddy!Steve Harrington x Reader
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Nothing to worry about, it's 1st of December and this is just your morning routine with your dear and lovely boyfriend.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SugarDaddy!Steve (He is 57 years old), young!fem!reader (You are a 22 years old), fluff, slight themes about sex, PDA, and everything is cute.
𝐀/𝐍: Nothing to say ;) it's not too much long but i hope you can appreciate! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog. Hope you enjoy this one! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)
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First of December, beginning of the Christmas holidays and therefore starting to decorate the tree. You couldn't be happier. You planned to do a lot of things and do a lot of shopping.
Steve promised you that he would take you to the mall to find the best clothes and decorations for your home.
You have always been a girl who loved holidays, and Christmas ones especially! That's why you got up with a big smile and started preparing breakfast. While your boyfriend was sleeping you made sure not to wake him, wanting to surprise him with a beautiful breakfast brought to bed. As soon as he woke up he found you in front of you holding a vase full of delicacies "Hey, baby you shouldn't have" he told you, sitting up and then giving you a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't the first time you brought him breakfast in bed, but Steve always liked it when his sweet girlfriend served him like this "Don't worry love, today is Saturday, so relax and eat—" you said coming closer and sitting close to him” — Daddy needs energy” You almost whispered as he let out a light laugh placing his chapped lips to yours along with your hand squeezing your ass.
“So this is my reward if I take you to the mall today?” You nodded and he shook his head and you felt bad "Why?" You said it like it was serious. You weren't interested in just spending the money, you just wanted to feel that feeling it gave you when Steve spoiled you. You like being spoiled by him. Taking out his credit card while he tells you how much he loves to spoil you and how it gives him some satisfaction. Treat you just like his little girl, when he says no because you've been a bad girl and you protest and stomp your feet because of how spoiled you are, then end up punishing you and spanking you until your ass cheeks turn purple, reminding you that when he says no it was no. But you really liked arguing back and he couldn't deny the same.
“Just one reward, no no babygirl, you know daddy wants more” he looked at you with seductive eyes and you couldn't help but caress his hair that cluttered his chest while a mocking smile appeared on your face "Well, okay I'll give you something more" You said implying his famous reward "That's much better" he announced satisfied and then hugged you giving a light kiss on your shoulder.
"So shall we go?" You asked giving him your sweet eyes that he can't resist "Okay babygirl" he nodded and a huge smile appeared on your face. You didn't waste any time, you got dressed and jumped in the car as you headed to the mall.
“Please, behave” He reminded you as he gave you his credit card, you nodded and immediately headed to a clothes shop, how can you celebrate Christmas without a suitable dress for the occasion?
You tried on many dresses in the dressing room but only three of them were perfect for this December. You felt surprised when you didn't spend more than three hundred dollars in clothing stores.
After reaching Steve together you headed to get Christmas decorations and the like. You were spoiled for choice and your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at your happiness. You spotted a little angel in a red dress who was glowing and Steve came closer, resting his chin on your shoulder "Do you like it?" You nodded "Me too, it's very cute, just like you" he said placing his hands around your waist hugging you, you laughed at his statement and kissed him while he gave you a light spank on your ass.
There was nothing to say, it was like this every day. Your sweet boyfriend did nothing but give you this princess treatment that you never thought you deserved. Steve loved seeing you happy and didn't care if you spent that much on clothes because he knew you would use them later. Everything you bought you always ended up using and consuming, and Steve was relieved for that. Previously he had had women who used him only for his great wealth and who spent without actually using what they bought. But you weren't like that, you really loved him and as he treated you like a real princess you treated him like a real king. There was love between you and nothing else.
You took the envelopes and headed to the car placing the expenses in the trunk "Is my little girl happy now?" He smiled at you and you did the same "Yes daddy" You replied "I love you princess" You giggled and he placed his hand on your thigh "Me too baby" You replied placing your hand with his driving home with new decorations , but not before rewarding your boyfriend for his kind and thoughtful gesture.
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ydbugs · 1 year
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eddi is just like me fr.
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pasukiyo · 2 years
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 thinking about sugar daddy!steve harrington leaning back against the headboard, a lit cigarette between his lips, his palms kneading his girlfriend’s hips as she bounced up and down on his cock, tears brimming the outskirts of her eyelids. he gazed up at her through hooded lids, throwing his head back as he removed one of his hands from her waist, taking his cigarette between his middle and forefinger to puff out his smoke, a string of curses following suit. 
 “fuck.. keep going baby, just like that,” he growled, taking another hit from his cigarette, his other hand also slipping away from her hip to instead wipe sweaty strands of hair away from her face, the pad of his thumb soothing over the high of her cheekbone. she cried when his hips thrusted up to meet hers, streams of tears sliding down her cheeks, her brow wrinkling as she threw her head back. “gonna spoil you when i’m done having my way with you. you’ve earned it, pretty girl,” he purred, his hand slithering around her head to cup the back of her neck, tugging her down to his level to smother her lips with his. “gonna buy you all the pretty clothes you want. that’s it, just keep taking my cock, baby girl.”
 “st.. steve,” she mewled against his lips, her own swollen from his kiss. her hands ventured over the mountains of his shoulders, her fingernails raking over the skin between his shoulder blades, etching marks into his flesh. “hm?” he hummed, pistoning his hips up into hers to abuse her aching cunt, growling when she clenched around his length. “is my pretty girl going to come, hm?”
 she nodded whilst he placed his cigarette back between his lips, the headboard slamming against the wall when he took her hips back into his hands, pounding her sex, her wails a symphony to his ears. “do it. come for me, baby. come all over this cock and i’ll buy you anything you want tomorrow. come on pretty girl, i know you can do it.”
 :(( idk i’m thinking sugar daddy steve harrington has a chokehold on me lol
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Also i have this idea were Billy dresses like classic American housewife costume for Steve sometimes. When Steve comes home from work the table is ready with the food Billy prepared for his husband. And Steve just folds his sleeves and take his dick out of his dress pants, bending Billy over the table rip his pantyhose and fuck him there while still dressed and the food still on the table. And when he finishes his job he just sits back and eat his food like nothing happened. Without even caring Billys dick.
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 10 months
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Dolly’s Fic Recs 🖤💭
✨Just wanted to show some of my fav fics from my fav writers some appreciation✨
All blogs are 18+MDNI
Eddie Munson:
By @bettyfrommars:
I’m On Fire (Older!Biker!Eddie x reader) - Series
Death Becomes Us (Vampire!Eddie x Supernatural!Reader) - Series
My Friend Goyle (Gargoyle!Eddie x Reader) - Series
By @andvys:
We’ll Burn The Sky (Rockstar!Eddie x Rocketar!Reader) - Series
For Me It’s Always You (Eddie Munson x Cheerleader!Reader) - Mini Series
(Also just any of her work is amazing)
By @storiesbyrhi:
Burning Yarrow (Bat/Vampire!Eddie x Witch!Reader) - series
By @corroded-hellfire:
As You Wish (Dad!Eddie x Babysitter!Reader) - series
By @strangelysupernatural
Corruption And Sin (Priest!Eddie x Reader)
By @munsonology:
Praise Him (Biker!Eddie x Nun!Reader)
By @lesservillain:
On The Outside (Inmate!Eddie x Teacher!Reader) - series
Strange Lights (Vampire!Eddie x Reader x Werewolf!Steve)-series
By @bimbobaggins69:
Heavy Metal Parking Lot (Eddie X MetalHead!Reader)
Dial A Thrill -(Part 2) (PhoneSex!Operator!Eddie x Reader)
Stave Harrington:
By: @katyswrites:
Don’t Call me Baby (SugarDaddy!Steve x Reader) - Series
By: @dr-aculaaa:
Sunday Morning Series (Dad!Steve x Mom!Reader)
Werewolf!Steve x Reader
By: @loveshotzz
Colors (Older!Steve x Reader) - Series
Whatta Man- Steve’s Night (Bouncer!Steve x Reader)
By: @andvys
It’s Just Us (Steve x Reader) Part 2 (Steddie x Reader)
By: @bettyfrommars
Candy Necklace- Breed (Biker!Steve x Reader)
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carolmunson · 1 year
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once bitten, twice shy (pbv!steve x f!thick reader)
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finally, we made it. been writing this since october with breaks in between. if you're new to the pbv!steve universe (which is just an incredibly wealthy big money version of steve), i'd recommend reading 'peanut butter vibe' first.
here, steve invites his thick hottie bestie (you, who we're calling natalie because i HATE 'y/n') to his office holiday party. this fic has everything: sugardaddy!steve, casual dominance, office sex, unrequited love, some guy named rob -- anyway, enjoy. warnings/content prev: piv sex (protected), fingering/oral (f receiving), mentions of oral (m receiving) some angst/unrequited feelings, casual dominance, light spanking, office sex, sort of a 'boss' kink?? idk what to call it, rich people behavior, snide comments about thick!reader but not really about her body, some body descriptions but nothing wild, mentions of clothing sizes, lots of fluff, steve is a hot hot hottie throughout. little christmas light dividers by @newlips
“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”
“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”
“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”
“I’ll take you to get something tomorrow,” he insists.
“I can buy my own dress, Steve,” you sigh, he can hear the eye roll through the phone.
“Yeah, yeah, everyone in Indiana knows you can buy your own dress, Manhattan, we get it,” Steve’s eye roll is even more audible than yours, “But you only have to get one because I’m asking you to come to this party. Let me get it for you.”
“Steve,” you scold, “No.”
“I have to finish shopping anyway — don’t you still have to finish getting gifts for your niece? We can go to the mall, two birds one stone!” he quickly adds. He hopes the thought of your niece’s tiny toes in some new little socks or a cute little outfit will soften you up.
“The mall is going to be a mess, Steve. It’s the weekend before Christmas,” you complain.
“We can go to a boutique or something,” he counters, determined to get you in a dress so you had no reason not to go to this party.
“Boutiques in Indiana aren’t making dresses for girls like me, Harrington,” you laugh, he doesn’t. He’s quiet for a moment until you hear his signature aggravated sigh come through the ear piece.
“You can just say you don’t wanna come,” his voice sounds slightly sullen, “Just wanted to show you the office, since you won’t get a chance to see it after I move.”
“It’s not that I don’t wanna come, Steve,” you say softly, “It’s just..it’s what it implies.”
“It doesn’t have to imply anything! Can’t you just come have fun with me? It’ll be so fun, I promise!” there’s a mild whine to his claim and you have to stifle a laugh.
Breaking News in Indiana: Poor little rich boy wants his big booty Barbie to play with at a party — throws minor tantrum when he might not get what he wants! "Fine, fine, Jesus Christ," you tease, "You're so annoying when you get whiny."
"So I'll pick you up in the morning? Is nine okay?" he asks, voice back to his regular charm. "Yeah, that's fine," you start, "Wait, we're not taking the Porsche to the mall, are we?" "Uh, yeah?" he replies, confused, "Did you want me to take a different car?" "Ugh, Steve that's so tooly," you moan, "You're such a tool."
"I'm about to uninvite you," he huffs, "Do you want me to buy you something pretty tomorrow or--" "I can buy my own dress," you yell over him. He lets out another aggravated sigh. "Tomorrow, nine, in the Porsche," he says finally, you hear the click of the dial tone as soon as he finishes speaking.
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The Porsche rolls up at 8:58 and he knows better than to honk the horn, lest he wake your sister's newborn. Instead, he parks and walks up to the porch of your sister's house; knocking on the door and waiting for you with his hands clasped behind his back. When the door opens, he's surprised to see your mom behind it. She smiles, big and warm. She looks familiar, definitely a face in the stands at basketball games because your older sister Carly was a cheerleader. She was a senior when you were both freshman, before Steve was King Steve. "Oh, hi. You must be Steven," she whispers, when the door opens further he spots your little niece propped up high on your mom's chest, "I'm Maureen. Come in, come in. S'way too cold to be standing out here." "Thanks, thank you," he smiles, the kind of smile that makes mom's melt. Steve takes a step inside and your mom steps back, patting the baby's back to burp her. He wipes his shoes on the welcome mat and undoes the buttons on his Hugo Boss wool coat. His cashmere scarf hung loosely over his shoulders down his chest. "I've heard so much about you. Nat should be out in a second," heat blooming in her cheeks, "Make yourself comfortable." Maureen disappears into the kitchen but he can hear the gurgles of your niece and your mom's little titters to her. He leans on the back of the couch, the house smells like you and his heart swells. So this is what it looks like when you go inside after he drops you off. This is where you go when you're not with him. It feels like a secret he's not supposed to know. "Oh, hi, you're in my house," his eyes snap up when he hears your voice. His teeth shine through his smile, he waves with a leather gloved hand. "Good morning," he says, his voice is low and warm. Your heartrate speeds up when he says it. It's awkward when you walk up to him, unsure if you should hug or kiss on the cheek. It's normally never awkward, but you're always meeting at the bar or in his car. He's never been so...available at the first greeting. You don't want to kiss in front of your mom because then she'll have questions. She already asks too many about Steve to begin with. He scans you, your white sweater and jeans, square toe brown boots on your feet. You reach for a black parka on the coat rack and a scarf that he recognizes as a polyblend. He makes a mental note to get you a cashmere one when you're not paying attention. "Good morning," you reply, shrugging the coat on and tossing the scarf around your neck sloppily. He walks towards you, tutting while he does, reaching out to flip your hair out from under the scarf. He readjusts the material so it lays neater against you, tucked in and under the jacket so you actually stay warm. "Gonna freeze if you don't wear it right," he sing songs, shaking his head while he works. "Okay dad," you roll your eyes, swatting his hands away when he goes to zip up your coat, "I can do it." You don't zip your parka up, instead you peek your head into the kitchen and whisper a quick goodbye to your mom and your niece. Maureen appears with the baby again and says a motherly goodbye and 'Merry Christmas' to Steve. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Maureen," he almost flirts, "Have a Merry Christmas." She winks at you when he turns towards the door, mouthing a very enthusiastic 'He's cute.'
You have half a mind to say, 'Yeah, he knows. That's what's so infuriating.' But you think it, instead. You opt to mouth a simple 'Stop,' at her before following him outside towards the car. "You're mom's so sweet," he says when he gets to the side walk from your porch, hand immediately coming out to support you down the icy steps, "Careful." "There's a railing," you explain, using him for support, "It's there so I don't fall." "Well, you're holding my hand anyway, so," he shrugs. You bristle at his coolness, always so slick even when it's innocent. He's so hateable, it's almost unfair how excited he makes you. "As I was saying," he starts again when you make it to the end of the stairs, "Your mom's so nice." "Maureen? Yeah, she's a sweetie," you agree when you get the passenger door. He reaches past you to open it, and in doing so has you chest to chest with him. He lingers there for a moment, looking at you down the slope of his nose. He cocks his head, eyes a little hard, lips pulling into a smirk. "So what happened to you, then?" he teases, lips dangerously close to yours. You catch your mom peaking out of the living room window and sink down into the open door onto the leather seat. "Shut up," you huff, "You're not funny." "I'm so funny," he corrects, shutting the door, appearing on the drivers side moments later. "The stores don't open for at least an hour," you say, buckling into the seat, "Why'd you wanna leave so early?" "Thought we could get breakfast first," he shrugs, looking your over in the passengers side. He bites his lip, eyes flitting from your thighs to your face, "You look nice."
"It's nine in the morning Harrington, keep it in your pants," you shove his shoulder and he grins while he puts his attention back on the road, pulling forward away from the sidewalk. "It's 9:07 actually," he says, aloof, hand resting on your inner thigh once he had his bearings on the road infront of him, "You're so warm." "Perks of big thighs, I guess," you shrug, "You're wearing gloves though, I think that helps." "Nah, your thighs are just warm," he grins again, "Haven't had to buy ear muffs for the last five years cause'a them."
"You're so gross," you turn to him as you say it, exasperated. The car rolls to a stop at a redlight and he turns to look at you. "I'm so gross, huh?" he asks, leaning in. His hand floating from your thigh to under your chin. The leather is smooth on your skin, you can smell his cologne as he moves closer, "S'that why you want me to kiss you so bad?" "I think you wanna kiss me so bad," you tease back. His lips catch yours, fingers gently wrapping around your jaw as they do. The leather sinks into your full cheeks, flush from the cold and the way his mouth fits against yours. His nose bumps your cheek and your ungloved hand finds his, you can feel the smoothness from his shave this morning. Smell his moisturizer, his shaving cream. Taste the mint from his mouth wash in your mouth. A soft hum leaks from your chest and you feel him smile into the kiss before he breaks away, the light turning green against the white cloudy sky. "You're right, I did wanna kiss you so bad," he admits. His hand falls right back on your thigh, hitting the gas to pull onto the highway.
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You'd been at it for a couple of hours now, store after store, the mall littered with families and screaming children. "We can go to the west wing. I don't know why you keep avoiding it," he chides. He puts all the shopping bags you've both already accumulated into the hand furthest from you, offering you the empty one. You take it, your other hand empty since he wouldn't let you carry your own bags. "That's the nice part of the mall," you say, "I don't want to spend that much on a dress for one night."
"Then it's a good thing you're not spending any money on it," he smiles. "Steven," you chide, "Enough, pl--" "Don't use that voice with me. I told you a thousand times I want to get you something pretty. So we're getting you something pretty," he urges, "Let's go." The west wing has all the fancy stores in it. Luxury brands, far stretches from Kay Jewelers and JC Penney. You aren't sure if they even carry your size in stores like this, but maybe you'll be surprised. It's not long before he has you in a dressing room, working with the attendants and tossing dress after dress in behind the curtain. Steve sits on one of the waiting area couches with the rest of the men. Your purse and coat is on his lap, the shopping bags resting between his feet. You poke your head out after the fourth dress, looking for an attendant but they're all busy. He notices your nervous face and waves to get your attention. "Need help?" he asks. You flush. "Can you get this zipper for me? It's not a side zipper so I can't reach," you ask. He nods, slinging your purse over himself with the cross body strap, asking the guy next to him to watch the bags with a quick 'Would you mind, chief? Thanks a million.' He comes up to the curtain and sees the front of the dress, red bursting to his cheeks, tinging his ears, "Good fucking lord." "Oh stop it," you blush back. You turn around and zips up the dress, some resistance meeting at the top. You walk closer to the mirror and inspect yourself, scrunching your face at your reflecting. "You don't like it?" he asks with a frown. "It's just not me," you shrug, "It's a little tight, and I don't want to be thinking about that the whole time, y'know?"
He nods, looking over his shoulder to see a dress on the 'put away' rack, dark green and off the shoulder. The style a mix between Herve Leger and vintage Dior. "Ma'am," he calls out when he sees an attendant walk by, "Would you mind pulling that dress for me? The green one?" She scans her hand over the rack and points at it, reading out the size. "That's perfect, actually," he smiles, that winning Harrington smile that makes the girls melt, "Thank you." "You're very welcome," she says sweetly, posture straightening when she brings it over. You peak back out and he turns you around to start the zipper down on the number you'd just tried on. "You look so good in green, try this one," he says, passing it to you, "Very Hawkins High." You hold it up in front of you and consider, it's a bodycon but still somehow classic looking. A velvet piece that you wouldn't have picked out yourself. "Hm, okay, I'll try it," you say, turning to him with a furrowed brow, "Now get out, perv." He smiles, closing the curtain carefully and retreating back to the couches, "Thanks for watching the bags, man." The guy smiles, "Us husbands gotta look out for each other, right?"
Steve bites his lip in a toothy grin, nodding, "Yeah, for sure."
"How long you been married?" he asked. "Few years," he lies, it's fun to lie when people have asked about you before. He'd get comments every now and again at Porter's, have chats with bar stoll warmers about you like you'd been together forever. "Few years? You look like babies," he laughs, the gray smattered in the man's hair shines in the pristine white lights of the store. "When you know, you know," Steve shrugs. The man nods, "They do say that, don't they? Well, I'll give ya a little advice. Fifteen years down the line, here -- they aren't lying when they say 'happy wife, happy life'. So just, y'know, do whatever she says and you're golden." "Great advice, honey," a woman's voice coo's above them. Steve sees her Vivienne Westwood shoes first, head tilting up to see a very expensive woman in front of him. She has a few dresses in her hand that he immediately stands up and takes from her. "Merry Christmas, kid," he says while they head out, the wife nods toward Steve in acknowledgement and he gives them a small wave. "Oh Steve, this is it, this is the one," you say, stepping out of the dressing room with the dress in your arm, the 'no's' in the other. His shoulders slump, "You didn't even let me see it."
"It'll be a surprise. You'll see it tomorrow night," you smile. He instinctively gets up and takes the dresses you don't want to hang up them for you on the rack. You exchange them for your purse and jacket, scarf previously abandoned in a shopping bag. "You all set to go? You have any other shopping you wanna do?" you ask.
"Hmm," he thinks, "Let's stop by jewelry first."
"Something for your mom?" you ask, putting your parka back on. "Something for you," he says, "To go with that dress."
"No, no, I have jewelry at home. I'll ask my mom if I can borrow something," you wave your hand off at him while you walk out of the dressing area and back into the store together. "Hey, hey," he shushes you, raising his neck to look into your eyes, "Let me spoil you a little, okay?"
"You already got me a new scarf and gloves," you say earnestly, "It's too much, Steve."
"You needed a new scarf and gloves," he says knowingly, "Let's get you a necklace to go with that dress, hm? You need shoes, too?" "I'm drawing the line at shoes," you warn, putting your purse over yourself while you walk through the beauty section, "I brought plenty of shoes with me."
He shrugs, "Suit yourelf."
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Monday night comes quicker than expected, but you'd stayed the night at Steve's after shopping, only to wake up in the late morning with him the next day. You'd been up late fucking mercilessly wrapping gifts with each other, teaching him how to curl ribbon, watching him fold wrapping paper with obscene precision. The only reason you went home is because he had to go into the office to finish up some reports. You arrive around seven-thirty, a little late but still there, heels clicking on the marble floor of the lobby -- and there he is, waiting for you behind the turnstyles to the elevators -- suit jacket fitting him almost criminally.
"Fashionably late?" he teases, opening the side gate to let you through to him, "Everyone thinks my date stood me up."
"Oh, I'm sure your secretary will be so disappointed to know I'm here," you joke back.
"I don't fuck my secretary," he shakes his head, hitting the call button, "I fuck Rob's secretary. God, do you ever listen to me when I talk?"
Rob, Steve's work nemesis.
"Oh forgive me, there's so only many office flings I can keep up with," you say, stepping into the elevator. You take off your scarf from under your coat, revealing the necklace Steve bought you at the mall. He smiles to himself, seeing your adorned by his gifts. The scarf, the necklace, the gloves. He's excited to see the dress, it's all he thought about today. When you get the floor of the party, you wince a bit at the noise. It's rowdy, a lot of the men are already drunk. And boy is it, fancy. Men in suits, women is cocktail dresses in sky-high heels, hair in big blowouts with glowing gold and silver jewelry. You're suddenly thankful for the necklace Steve bought you. You'd been around your fair share of fancy in New York, but never really living it outside of your own work holiday parties. Sometimes you forget that this is Steve's day to day. "The actual offices are the next floors up, this is just our meeting hall. They really go all out, huh?" he smiles, "Let me bring you to coat check." On the walk to coat check you scan the room, it's decked out in gold and red. Ten foot Christmas trees sit in every corner, draped in garland, ribbon, and tinsel. Lights leaving a soft glow out of the floor to ceiling windows of the room. Intricately placed curtains of warm white christmas lights hang from the ceiling, dress the walls and windows. The room is a halo, glowing and warm. In the center of the room is the open dance floor, flanked by tables covered in white cloths -- drinks already littering them. Speakers boom top 40 and Christmas music, chatter and laughter booms over it.
"Here, let me get it," he says when you reach the coat check area, a little set up of a few racks with a sweet woman at a table, writing out tickets for you to keep track of for the end of the night. He undoes the buttons of your coat and you shrug it off slowly. His eyes round and he gulps, mouth going dry at the sight of you.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes out, pulling your coat back over you, "You can't be serious rigt now."
"What?" you ask, suddenly self concious, "Does it look bad?"
"No, oh my god, no, it's..." he pulls your coat away again and sucks in a sharp intake of breath, "If I knew you were gonna look like this, I wouldn't have let you wear it here. Can't have everyone looking at you when you're here with me."
He looks you over, the way your breasts sit in the sweetheart neckline, how tightly it clings to your curves, the shape of your hipes, the outline of your belly in the fabric. He licks his lips, knowing he's not strong enough to see you from the back just yet.
"God damn," he shakes his head, "You're gonna kill me." "Well, you look very handsome too," the compliment is genuine but it doesn't register for him. He's busy looking at your glossed lips, the necklace places perfectly above your chest, the smell of your perfume. He licks his lips and your words finally hit him, so does the feeling of the fabric of your coat in his hands. "Th-thank you," he smiles, "Thanks." He checks your jacket and gives the lady at the table a $20 even though the coat check is free. Waiters walk around with hor d'ourves and drinks and he reaches for the champagne flutes, nodding to you to see if you want one. "It's kind of chilly, is there coffee or anything?" you ask, running your hands over your arms. "There's hot toddy's," he says, "They're by the bar but you don't like whiskey."
"I can pretend to like it for right now," you smile, he smiles back, placing his champagne flute on a table that he'd been sat at earlier, your name card placed on the seat next to him. He takes your hand and leads you to the bar, running his own hands over arms to warm you up while you wait behind a small line of people.
"This is pretty," you tell him, "Looks like everyone is having a good time."
"Half of these guys have been drinking since four," he laughs a little, "I'd hope they're having a good time."
"Oh, Harrington, is this her?" you hear a gruff voice ask. Steve's arm sling protectively around your waist at the sound. "This is she," he says back, he presents you like a trophy to him. His best Vanna White while he scans a hand over you to show you off. "Rob Delaney," he smiles, a smile that rivals Steve's, and offers his hand. He is devilishly handsome, no wonder Steve hates him so much, "You must be the girl that's got Harrington running to the big city."
"I think it's the pay raise that has him running to the big city, but thank you," you giggle, shaking his hand. It's a firm shake, a businessman's shake. You feel the chill of his gold pinky ring brush against your skin. "Pretty thing like you got a name?" he flirts, you feel Steve pull you closer, his hand splaying at the curve of your waist. Your face heats up at the feeling, knowing he doesn't like sharing you even though you weren't his to begin with. "Natalie," you smile. "Natalie," he repeats, giving you a once over, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." "Well, thank you," you say politely, letting go of his hand. He puts his own in his pants pocket, smiling at the both of you. "It's nice to meet you. Save me a dance, will ya?" he smirks when he asks.
"Don't know how free I'll be for a dance, Delaney," Steve replies with a tight voice, ffingers digging into the velvet of your dress, "She's kinda got me tied up all night. Maybe next time." Rob nods, biting back at snicker before walking away with his drink. "See, angel, this dress is dangerous," Steve says in your ear, you hold back from having your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his voice in your chest. He orders your hot toddy and a whiskey on the rocks for himself, you nurse it slowly back to the table -- the drink is strong and the food here is light. You feel lucky you ate dinner before you left or else this night would've been ten times more dangerous than the dress you were wearing.
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An hour and two hot toddies later and you're chatty at the table with Steve's work friends. He glows while he watches you, the way you are able to blend in so seamlessly with everything. Like you've known these people longer than he has.
"And so I'm still on the phone after he puts me on hold for thirty minutes," you continue through gasps and giggles, the whole table is crying with laughter, "And -- and he comes back and is like, "Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. Did you say L'Oreal? I thought this was the Oriole's marketing office!"
The table erupts in laughter, feet stomping, glasses clinking while men bang on the table. The women dab tears away with their napkins. Business talk, business jokes. Two big kids in their parents clothes again, at a fancy office party that they don't need to go to.
"Oh god," Steve's co-worker says, face red with liquor and laughter, "That is fuckin' marketing for you. I'm gonna go get a drink, you all want another round?" The group at the table nods, but Steve waves off a no for both of you. 'Last Christmas' flows through the speakers and some people have found their way to the dance floor. He takes the hand resting on your lap and gives it a light squeeze to get your attention. "Hey," you say, turning towards him.
"Hey," he says back, thumb brushing your skin, "You wanna dance with me?" You blush, nodding when he stands up. He's almost too charming, who are you to say no to him.
“Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it — with a note saying I loved you, I meant it —” Steve mouthed along with the words dramatically, guiding you to the dance floor on gliding backwards feet. His hips swayed expertly — surprising since he didn’t strike you as much of a dancer. You saw him at many a homecoming dance, he was not incredibly impressive in the 80s.
“Now I know, what a fool I’ve been, but if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again,” he sings along softly while he pulls you into him. His hand presses against your lower back until you’re chest to chest, hips against his hips, holding your other hand outside the both of you. Your face burns in the low light, noticing the other couples on the dance floor — women with engagement rings and wedding bands, women introduced as ‘my girlfriend _____’ who would be fiancés soon.
“When did you get so good at dancing?” you ask, looking up at him.
“This year to save me from tears — been going to a lot of weddings — give it to someone special,” he explained through his soft singing, “Got good at dancing so I could pick up bridesmaids. What about you?”
You scoff at his answer before answering yourself, "I was always a good dancer, Steve."
"How was I supposed to know?" he shrugged. Hair falls in his face when he leans forward to brush his nose against yours, his tell that he wants to kiss you.
"Should've danced with you at prom," he mumbles, resting his forehead down on yours.
"I didn't go to prom," you smile, moving your head on his chest, "Wasn't really my thing." His hand travels from your lower back to just below your shoulder blades, holding you while you both sway in time with the music.
"What'd you do instead?" he asks, you can't help but giggle and he can feel it in his chest.
"Ugh, it's embarrassing," your face burns while you nuzzle into the lapel of his jacket.
"It was years ago, c'mon," he urges, “Tell me.”
You look up at him and scrunch your nose, “I let Eddie Munson take my V-card that night.”
Steve gasps, you want to punch him in his perfect teeth.
“Right on his stained mattress at his uncle's,” you laugh and scrunch your nose harder.
“Oh, no…” he laughs, a twinge of jealously plucks in his chest, “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”
“I mean he was a different kind of freak for me,” you shrug and Steve presses you even closer, feeling your breats and tummy squish against him. Warm and soft.
“Any good?” he asks, trying to make it casual. But even if it was so long ago, he had to know. "Good for seventeen," you shrugged, "And eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty. Then Corrded Coffin took off and he left."
"So you kept fucking him when you'd come back for breaks?" he laughs.
"It's a long winter break, Harrington," you explained, "I had a life before you, y'know."
"Yeah, but, was it a good one?" he squints when he asks, so you know he's joking. You roll your eyes at him, anyway. While George Michael wails, Steve can't help himself while looking at you in the low light. His body so close to yours he could barely breathe correctly. His hand skates up the the top of your back to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that only both of your lips understand. Sharing secrets with eachother through clicks of spit, soft breaths, and swipes of tongue. If it weren't for the hot toddies, you'd never let him kiss you like this with people around. When you break away, he's breathless. "You look so good tonight," he confesses, the hand holding yours leaving to meet your cheek, "Can't stop lookin' at you." "Well thank you for the dress," you smile, "It's all you."
"Fits you like a glove," he smirks, "No lines or anything."
You blush but he can't tell, "Well I'm not wearing anything under this so that's why."
Steve chokes, sputtering, astounded at how you can say that to him so casually. The whole time he's had his hands on you, it's only been this flimsy velvet fabric keeping him from feeling your skin. All night you've been naked under this -- and you're just telling him now?
"Uh -- um," his voice cracks, "Do you uh, um, you wanna see my -- um, my office?" "I don't know, is it interesting?" you ask with a laugh. His hands skate down to your ass, the whiskey in your system tells you its okay when he lets his palms roam the mass of it. "Can make it so interesting for you," he says, lips brushing yours, "So, so interesting."
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His hands and lips are on you the moment you step into the elevator and the doors close. His tongue runs a flat stripe over your collar bone, over the twenty four karat gold chain around your neck, following your jugular until he gets to your job.
"Your quarterly review came in," he murmurs in your ear, hand skating up your dress to tease you. Fingers brushing over your inner thighs, creeping slowly upward while you whine, "It's abysmal."
The doors ding open and he pulls you by the hand down the hall to the corner office. The windows show off the Indianapolis skyline, buildings glittering from floor to ceiling. There were packing boxes littered around, leather chairs and a couch cross from his desk for meetings. A bar cart left abandon in the corner with a large oak desk in the center. "Abysmal?" you reply innocently while he shuts the door behind you, "Does that mean I'm gonna get fired?"
He finally gets a good view of you from behind and bites his fist bringing the other hand down hard with a loud CRACK! against your ass. He smirks to himself with you yelp. "It might," Steve sinks down into the chair behind his desk, beckoning you over with a finger.
“Wanna keep your job?” he asks with a sly smirk, the authority building in his chest.
“Yes, Mr. Harrington," you playfully whisper. "Then show me," he sighs, reaching for his belt. The clink of the metal on the buckle being undone sent a shiver through you. He stayed relaxed in his office chair, pulling out his length to pump it lazily in his fist.
"Don't be such a tease," he scolds while you stand there, gaping at his cock, feeling behind you to twist the lock on the door.
"Steve! You can't just -- you're at work!" you gasp, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.
"You just locked the door," he shrugged, "They're all downstairs, c'mon just -- please, come suck my dick. It's already out."
“You’re insane,” you laugh, “We have to go back out there eventually, Harrington.”
“I promise I won’t mess up your makeup,” he pleads, a soft grunt escaping his lips while he quickens his pace on his cock.
“So, I suck your dick,” you start, walking slowly back towards his desk, “And what do I get?”
“Baby, in that dress, you can have anything you want,” he gasps as he runs his thumb over his leaking tip, watching your hips sway while you continuing your slow strut toward him.
“Want me to fuck you instead?” he asks, “God, fuck, bend over the desk. I’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”
“Very forward, Mr. Harrington,” you coo, slowly reaching for the hem of your dress, “Can I keep my job if I let you fuck me?” "Keep your job?" he pants while you bend over in front of him, hem slowly rising over your thighs, "Give you the whole--whole fucking c-company." Your dress slips over the curve of your ass, legs taught and flexed while balancing your weight on your tall heels.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers while he stands, still fucking his fist while he does it, "Your body's just...shit, you're so...I wish you could see how you look."
He clumsily reaches for the middle drawers on the side of his desk, hastily fishing into a half empty box of condoms. You can't stifle the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, "How many people are you fucking in here, Steve?"
"Shh, just shut up," he huffs while he quickly works the latex over his shaft. "Well excuse me," you murmur, bracing yourself while he puts one hand on your hip. The other dips between your legs, pressing against your entrance. "You nice and wet for me?" he asks gently, soaking his fingers in his mouth and coating your opening with a mix of your slick and his spit. "Y-yeah," you say breathily, rocking back onto his hand. Steve smirks, feeling your walls puff and twitch as his touch. You feel his length slide between your thighs, hand guiding his tip to drag across your folds, parting them as he pushes in just an inch or two. You hiss at the intrustion, you were wet but not relaxed. The let downs of not having enough time for foreplay. He runs a calming hand down your back over your dress. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he soothes, "I'll go slow." You feel his hips slowly pull out and push in again, coaxing your walls to start accomdating him. You part your legs a little, the arch in your back matching the porn stars in 'SLUTS AND CEOS XXX' videos you were sure Steve had seen before. Slickness builds between your legs while he pushes his hips in and out again, more and more of his length getting sucked in. You hear him groan when it gets all the way to the hilt.
"So tight..." he grumbles. It was almost uncomfortable for him, he knew you were turned on enough, "You feeling okay?"
"Yeah, sort of," you nod, wincing, "Hurts a little."
"Sorry," he apologizes again while running a hand through his hair, "Lemme...hm..." You hiss again when he pulls out, looking back to see him get to his knees while his hands grip your thighs. Steve just goes for it. His tongue immedately making contact with your entrance. "Steve, oh..." your eyes roll back when he parts your lips with his thumbs, tongue gliding forward to your clit while his fingers find home inside of you. "There we go," he chuckles darkly, "Did she just need a little somethin' extra from me?" "Oh, shit, that's so good," you whisper, covering your mouth to stop your whimpers escaping from under his office door. His fingers pumped like pistons inside of you, teasing your g-spot just enough to get you dripping down your thighs. "Think it'll be okay now?" he asks, his hand meeting your hip while he gets back to full height. "Mhm," you gulp when you feel his head push in, and then the rest of him. Much easier this time around. "Fuuuuck, me," he groans, his hips rolling in steady thrusts against you. You cover your mouth harder, moans caught in your throat, in your palm, threatening to ricochet of the high ceilings of his office. "Better, baby? That feel good?" he asks, his voice clouded behind breathy grunts. You were still tighter than normal, and while that was great, he'd fucked you enough times to know when something wasn't working. "Really good, Steve," you whine through gritted teeth. His speed picks up, the skin of his thighs clapping loudly against the backs of yours. Steve's thrusts are shallow, hitting deeper and deeper until you're on the toes of your heels. "Look--oh fucking fuck--Look back at me," he pleads, "Wanna see you." You oblige and he sighs at the sight of you, reaching forward to move your hair away from you, "So pretty for me."
Steve never looked at the girls he was fucking in his office. It was always just to get off, to feel good after a rough meeting. To let off some steam after his underlings fucked up yet another sale. New secretaries, mail girls, office assistants, you name it -- all he had to do is wink and they'd be bent over his desk by lunch. "I'm close," he admits with a blush, "S'just...mmm fuck, s'what you do to me." "That's okay," you smile, his hand reaching forward again to touch your face. "Been hard since you fuckin'--oh shit, Christ--since you got here," his brows are furrowed while he watches you. Swollen wet lips letting out soft moans while he pumps into you. God, he'd do anything to keep you like this -- wet and ready for him. You catch his hand, pressing kisses to his fingertips, eyeing him mischeviously while you do it.
"D-don't, you're gonna m-make me---" he warns, another groan taking over while you slip his first and middle finger into your mouth. Sucking expertly, your lipstick smearing on his knuckles. "J-just need s-something in your mouth, hm?" his face contorts, brows furrowing while he clamps his eyes down. Whatever authority he had in his voice falls into boyish whines when your tongue swirls between his fingers. It's a sensation he didn't know he'd like so much, having his fingers sucked on while he was buried inside you. Something about the warm wetness of your mouth. The dirtiness of it. The way you'd wink at him while you did. He took his fingers out with a sharp inhale of breath, trying to stave off his orgasm. Instead, he uses them to wrench your hair back, your chest arching off the desk. The sound of your cry would definitely be heard a few doors down if anyone else was around. You involuntarily clench down on him, gushing. "Oh I see, you want me to be a little mean?" he asks against your neck, open palm coming down against your ass again, "Put you in your place?"
"In my p-place? Please. I thought I was getting the whole c-company?" you ask slyly, turning back to face him against the hold in your hair, "Isn't that what you promised...?"
You raise your eyebrows at him, mocking his own approach to the edge, mouth gaping. "Isn't that what you p-promised, Mr. Harrington?"
He gasps, hips stuttering while his grip in your hair slacks and clutches your shoulder. Gutteral groans flow from his throat, a string of expletives pour from his mouth. Gasps of phrases like, "My little office whore...fucking Jesus, my perfect girl...Pretty -- oh god -- pretty baby..." Steve slows his thrusts to nothing, heaving his breaths until they steady and leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "You didn't..." "I didn't," you shake your head, "But it's okay."
"It's not okay," he says while pulling out, carefully removing the condom and tossing it in the trash can under his desk. "Gross, Steve," you admonish, standing up. You adjust your dress while turning to face him and he frowns, "Someone has to clean that up."
"Don't put your dress down, let me --" he reaches for the hem, but you stop him.
"Steve, it's fine. We have to go back downstairs, they're gonna know you're missing," you smile while you say it, "They're loving you down there."
"I'll make it up to you later," he promises, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "Wake up all the neighbors when we get home tonight."
"Whatever you say, Harrington," you roll your eyes while you get to the door, clicking the lock. You both make your way to the bathroom when you leave his office, making quick work of cleaning up. He waits for you against the wall across from the door, your purse in his hand. "Hi," he smiles, when you exit, "Missed you."
You scoff, reaching for your purse and fishing out a compact to touch up your lipstick and powder. He walks next to you while you touch up, arm slinging around your waist while he does.
"You're gonna make me mess it up," you say, swiping a line of color over your lips. "I already messed it up back there," he shrugs while the elevator doors ding open, "What's a second time?" He pushes you up against the elevator wall when the doors close behind you, "Or a third time?" You hum into his kiss, hungry and touchy, feeling yourself swell between your legs.
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Another drink and an hour on the dance floor later and you're back at the table while the guys chat with cigars on the opposite side of the room. Steve stands with a hand in his pocket, cocky and confident, while he talks with his work friends -- you're sure about something he doesn't really care about. Mergers and acquistions.
"He sent Rob's secretary three dozen roses as a goodbye gift," one of the women at the table behind you said to another. "Oh, you know he just did that to piss him off," her friend replied, "Muffy told me she doesn't even like him like that. It's all been for fun."
"He told her to come visit him in New York any time," she shrugged, "But he stopped sleeping with her earlier this month cause he said he's got himself a girl in the city."
"Can't believe he's going to New York for some girl," she complains, "He stopped flirting with everyone. But you know what? Good riddance, he's fucking boring now. Hot but boring." "It's not the girl he brought tonight, right?" the other woman asks, "That's gotta be a friend from school or something. She's not very New York looking, pretty home grown if you ask me."
It doesn't bother you, but your shoulders tense a little. In your own little world with Steve was one thing, but to hear people confirm your slight fears about what the future could hold was another. You couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your chest every time you remembered he was moving to New York. Moving into your life in a way you'd never had him before. Disrupting the whole life you built there by yourself, a place you've been able to call home without anyone from your real home to bother you. 'Got himself a girl', since when? Weren't you just having fun? Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, he's coming towards you with your coats in his arms, holding yours out in front of him. "You wanna get outta here, baby?" he asks, there's a slight slur to his words that makes you laugh. "Sure," you smile. You hear a soft 'Oh, shit,' come from the table behind you. "You need me to find a phone to call for a car?" you ask him. He shakes his head, "No, they'll call one for us downstairs." You put on your coats, led around for a flurry of goodbyes before heading back into the elevator to the lobby. He takes your hand immeidately, leading you to the front desk to ask for a car before taking you outside to wait. "You have fun?" he asks, pulling you in to hold you, protecting you from the cold. "Oh, a lot of fun," you smile, "You brought your dancin' shoes, for sure." "Had to, since you're so nice to dance with," he smiles, hands dropping from your arms to laces fingers with yours. You smile, but he notices there's something off about it, not as genuine, "You okay?"
"Oh yeah, yeah, fine," you shake your head, "Just thinkin'."
"Yeah, I've been thinkin' too and um..." he starts, looking down, brows furrowing, "Thinking about you and uh--"
"What did you mean the other night, on the phone? When you said 'It's what it implies'?" he asks, thumb gliding idly against your gloved hand. One of his co-workers came bumbling through the revolving door, eyes glazed over with the buzz of alcohol. You dropped his hand before whoever this was could register it, embarrassment buzzing through you. If the women were talking about you, you couldn't imagine what the men were saying.
"Hey man, goodnight -- good to see you and uh -- yeah g-good luck if oh, shit I'm so fucked up dude -- good luck if I don't see you," he slurred, pulling Steve in for a hug. "Thanks, Jack. Easy there, buddy," Steve rolled his eyes at you from over his shoulder before he let go, "You're not driving tonight, right?"
Jack shakes his head and laughs, leaning against are large stone sqaure pillar. His eyes semi-follow the figure of a beautiful woman in a maroon dress pushing through the revolving door.
"Jack, let's go," she calls, like a mother to a son. She waves him over with her clutch, engagement ring glinting in the buildings facades.
"That's my ride," he smiles, stumbling over to her. They take eachother's hand and she offers an apology over her shoulder, saying goodnight to Steve and smiling at you.
"Sorry about that,” Steve says apologetically, reaching for your hand again, “You we’re saying.”
“Just that,” you stuttered, unable to find the right words to say to explain it, “I don’t know Steve. I’m not like — I don’t — This isn’t — ugh..”
“Take your time, Manhattan,” he teases. You don’t want to hurt him, especially not when he smiles at you like that.
“Bringing me here,” you start, “In this dress you bought me, in this necklace. Dancing with me, taking me to your office. It’s making people think we’re together.”
“Are we not?” Steve asked, his brows furrowing, “Cause I thought that — like, we talked about — have you been sleeping with other people?”
“No, Steve, I haven’t,” you shake your head, keeping your voice calm, “But I’m not going around telling people that you’re my boyfriend.”
Steve’s face drops a little, some pink rising in his cheeks that isn’t coming from the cold, “Oh.”
“I thought you liked me,” Steve confessed, “That you, y’know — that you wanted me. That you liked me the way I like you.”
“I do like you, Steve,” you tell him, your hand resting on his chest, “But what if this isn’t what you really want? What if this is just fun for now?”
"I mean, I -- I uprooted my whole life for you," Steve argues, "I'm moving to New York in a week and a half."
"I didn't ask you to do that for me. You wanted to do something new," you calmly explained back, "I said I thought it would be a good idea."
"You said we could try it for real..." his voice got weak, caught in his throat. Steve's amber eyes rounding while he looks at you, how the street lights dance across the jewelry he bought you, the gloss on your lips.
"When you got there," you corrected, "And what if you get there and that's not what you want anymore? There's a lot to offer guys like you in the city, Steve. It's a totally different world than the one I'm living in."
"I can bring you into it with me," he pleads, hands sneaking under your coat and finding your waist.
"Steve..." you say knowlingly, your shoulders sinking. Your fingers reach up and brush his hair out of his face, delicately following the line of his cheek.
"Nat, please, I..." his voice trails off when he realizes what he's about to say. You watch his Adam's apple bob while he swallows the words.
"Don't say it," you whisper softly, shaking your head, "You don't mean it."
A cab finally pulls in, and you take a glance at it over your shoulder. "I'm gonna go home, okay?" you ask. You turn to pull out of his hold, but he pulls you in desperately.
"Natalie..." disappointment soaks your name when he says it, "Just -- c'mon. We can forget this whole conversation. Please, come home with me."
You shake your head no.
"Please?" he begs, pulling you a little closer to him, "Please?"
You lean in to kiss him, taking him all in. His cologne, the way his lips taste, the way he moves his hands from your waist to your jaw. He wants to keep you there forever, pausing his life for however long it took to get bored of how our lips feel against his. He doesn't think there's a time when he will.
You break away when the cab beeps, brushing your nose against his like he does to you, "I had a really nice time."
"Me too," Steve kisses your forehead, swallowing the lump in his throat when he accepts that you're not staying the night, "Call me a little later? So I know you made it in okay?"
"Of course," you promise. It hurts to look at him like that, tears shining in his eyes that he’s trying to blink away.
“Goodnight Steve,” you smile with your lips closed, afraid that if you open them you’ll never stop talking about all the things you’re afraid to talk to him about.
“Night,” he says while you turn to hurry towards the cab. As it drives away, you see him wipe at his nose and shake his head, crossing his arms tightly around himself to protect him from the cold now that you weren’t there to keep him warm.
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Steve watches the cab leave with a lump in his throat, sniffling hard enough that the cold air burns the back of his throat. There's no way in hell you don't love him back, he thinks. There's no fucking way. When the red lights from the back of the cab disappear onto the city streets he turns back into the lobby, Last Christmas plays again softly over the speakers like it's mocking him. The tinny layments bouncing off the marble floor and back into his ears, down to his chest where his heart thumps painfully. Rob, and his secretary Muffy, stumble out of the elevator bank drunk with giggles and empty champagne flutes. He catches Steve walking towards the security desk and lets out a hearty laugh. "You goin' home alone Harrington?" he asks with a grin, "Shoulda let me know, would've brought your friend along. Three's company, huh?" Steve's jaw ticks but he ignores him, letting the gush of cold air soothe over his mixture of sadness and frustration while Muffy and Rob open the door. His shoes click on the marble as he approaches the desk, the music taunts him as he does it. 'A face of a lover with a fire in his heart, a man undercover but you tore me apart...'
"Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Harrington?" the attendant asks. Steve sighs, the breath comes out in a shudder, "Would you mind calling me another cab?" "Right away," he says warmly. Steve appreciates the kindness, he wishes he got the man a goodbye card. The sound of the phonecall for the car is muffled as Steve thinks about how it felt to dance with you, the warmth of your skin, your giggles at the mall, the way you kissed him goodmorning in his bed earlier. He swallows, tears pooling in his eyes. 'But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. Special -- someone --' "Car should be here shortly."
"Thanks man, thanks so much," Steve says without turning around to face him. He wipes at his eyes with gloved hand, heading back into the cold to wait for the cab.
Alone.
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Welcome to Family Video!
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hey there! welcome once again to family video! we've got some really amazing stuff this month. please ignore the group of teenagers at the back it's.. difficult to explain.. anyway take a look around and let me know if you need anything! (you can just shove them out the way) oh and hey - you can totally ask one of my colleagues to hold onto stuff if anything peaks your interest, just say you know me :)
april's recommendations:
steve harrington -
bathroom break by @stvharrngton - old money!steve *
don't call me baby pt.6 by @katyswrites - sugardaddy!steve *
slugger #2 by @upsidedownwithsteve
steve welcomes baby #4 by @luveline - dad!steve
single thread pt.3 by @headkiss - spiderman!steve
i hate you (not) by @crappymixtape
it's chaos by @superblysubpar - dad!steve
love you, on purpose pt.1 & pt.2 by @lovebugism
want me like i want you by @beezywriting *
untouchable by @forevermoreharrington
i've got no soul to sell by @theemporium *
you can have the best of me, baby by @superblysubpar *
dancing in a snowglobe by @sw34terw34ther *
beyond by @abibliophobiaa
eddie munson -
whatta man by @loveshotzz - bartender!eddie *
let's go, don't wait pt. 2 by @carolmunson *
if it barks pt. 3 by @luveline - rockstar!eddie
something new by @newlips
remus lupin -
at ease by @upsidedownwithsteve
we hope to see you again soon
178 notes · View notes
ohwowimlonley · 11 months
Text
Sugardaddy!steve has both a mommy kink and a daddy kink idc idc
He’s always buying you things, taking care of you so well like a good daddy almost all the time. But as soon as you get into the bedroom? Oh, it’s a whole ‘nother story. He’s still giving you everything you can, lapping at your cunt with everything he’s got, drinking down all of your juices.
You calm him down, lay him on his back on the bed, shush him ever so gently as you seat yourself on his cock, taking care of him like he does for you. He’ll whimper, whine out as you ride him.
“Mommy,” his voice comes out a soft warble, soft fingers gripping at the plush skin of your hips, your thighs, your stomach, anything he can get ahold of. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, to keep his eyes trained on your tits as they bounce up and down with each thrust.
“I know, daddy, I know,” you would reassure, smoothing a kiss to the crown of his head and smiling as his volume increases with the nickname, “I’ve got you, mommy’s got you,”
328 notes · View notes
katyswrites · 10 months
Text
don't call me 'baby'
PART 8 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f & m receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 10.2k
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
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Notes: I know, the Italian/descriptions of this area of Italy are not 100% accurate. Sue me! But seriously, I wasn't too focused on accuracy, so just take it as it is!
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PART 8 | drinkin' on the beach (with you all over me)
“So, will you tell me where we’re going yet?” you asked slyly.
“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, fighting a smile. He extended the hand not carrying your suitcase, which you took as you descended the rest of the steps.
“I just don’t get why you’re not -”
You stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Steve was leading you towards.
“Is that -?”
Your question was answered as he popped the trunk of the red Ferrari, placing your suitcase inside.
“It’s mine. Well, ours, I guess. For the week.”
“You’re - you can’t just rent a car like this -”
“I can,” Steve said, slamming the trunk close. He smiled smugly, then shrugged. “I know a guy.”
You managed to pick your jaw up from where it was hanging and rolled your eyes.
“Of course you do,” you said, making your way to the passenger side. “So -”
“Hop in,” he said, opening the door for you. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
You took his hand and let him help you in, Steve closing the door behind you and coming around until he was in the driver’s seat, right next to you.
“Wow,” you said under your breath.
“What is it?”
“I just - I realized I’ve never actually seen you drive before. Or, been in the front of a car with you, really.”
He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ready?”
You nodded, clicking on your seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb.
“So - what did you say to Robin to get her to agree to taking me away all week? She usually loves to go all-out for my birthday, as much as I tell her she doesn’t have to.”
He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at sweet talking.”
You thought about your roommate for a moment, and the idea of her being sweet-talked into anything, and snorted. “Cute, what did you actually do?”
A pause. Then, “I promised I’d pay for your belated birthday party. Whatever she has planned, I said I’d help make it happen.”
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You don’t understand! Robin loves birthdays! And like, I don’t hate them, but I’ve just never been much of a big celebrator or anything, and she always goes nuts. And now you’re giving her a budget? You’ve created a monster, Harrington.”
He laughed, reaching down to take your hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.
“Well, I’m sorry. But, I’ll do my best to rein her in, yeah?”
“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”
It’s only several minutes later, after you’ve both laughed it off, that you realized he was still holding your hand as he drove. Had he ever done something like that before? Before you could dwell on it, you pulled your hand away, hoping that reaching for the water bottle in the cupholder made it seem nonchalant.
You cleared your throat. 
“So - can I know where we’re going yet?”
“You certainly can guess, if you want.”
You sighed, throwing your head back against the headrest.
“Okay - well, you said I didn’t need a passport, so we’re not flying anywhere. And, you said to pack bathing suits, so I’m guessing the beach, or pool, maybe. So, staycation? In Italy, somewhere?”
His face remained neutral. “Maybe.”
“You’re impossible.”
He chuckled, taking a moment to glance over at you.
“Just, trust me, yeah?”
After a moment, you sighed, giving up. 
“Yeah, okay.”
As you drove out of the city, you turned the conversation towards his business trip. You asked him about work, how it went, and leaned back and listened. He mostly vented about it, but you paid it no mind - in reality, it was just nice to be with him again. You tried not to think about that part of it too much, though.
The highrises and busy city streets began quieting, giving way to residential townhouses and open roads. The traffic had lessened, the scenery becoming greener, the road narrower.
“So, how long until we get there?” you asked.
“About 4 hours, give or take,” he said. “It’ll be worth the road trip, I promise.”
“I don’t mind a road trip.”
Not with him, you didn’t.
You found yourself glancing over at Steve every now and then - he had only been gone a week, and you had forgotten just how unabashedly handsome he was in-person. As he stared straight ahead at the road, you took in his side profile, and the way his hazel eyes shone in the sunlight, his hands gripped firmly on the wheel. 
Feeling your eyes on him, he spared a glance in your direction. Instead of looking away, you just felt yourself smiling, keeping eye contact.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing - it’s just… you really didn’t have to do… whatever this is. You spoil me, you know.”
His hand found itself on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 
“It’s my favorite thing to do, baby.”
Baby. He had started calling you that more often now outside of the bedroom. You didn’t protest when he kept that hand there, for most of the drive.
Eventually, you found yourself dozing off, the steady motion of the car and low hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. You only found yourself waking when the car came to a halt, blinking groggily.
In front of you was a pier, boats bobbing in the water as cars lined up. The sea stretched out before you, bright blue in the late morning light.
“What are we -”
“We’re catching a ferry,” Steve said. 
“So, an island vacation?”
He just shrugged, pulling the car up to the dock to load on. You sighed.
“You know, I barely had any idea what to pack. I just threw stuff into a bag.”
“Don’t worry about that - I brought another suitcase for you, bought you some stuff.”
“Of course you did.”
You still had the inner instinct to lecture him, to berate him for spending so much money on you. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he grinned, proud of being able to spoil you. If you asked him to bring you the stars, he’d probably find a way.
The ferry trip was about an hour long, Steve following you to the upper deck to stretch your legs. You leaned on the edge, looking down at the water below you, the wake of the boat making the bright blue water churn into white seafoam. The salt air blew through your hair, Steve’s arm finding its way around your waist. 
Before too long, you found yourselves back in the car and driving off the ferry. You took a moment to assess your surroundings, blinking in the afternoon sun. The port was busy, green hills and rocky mountains stretching out before you in the distance, dotted with colorful buildings. The sea was sparkling, clear as day with an aquamarine hue. The harbor was bustling, boats of all sized docking at the port. People rode their bikes along the pier, the sounds of the water breaking along the coast a consistent din in the background.
“Okay, now can you tell me where we are?”
Steve laughed. 
“Yes - It’s called Ischia Island. It’s kind of become a tourist trap recently, but don’t worry, we’re going to the other side of the island - it’s much quieter.”
“I don’t care about that -”
“I know, but - I guess it’d be nice to have some privacy, you know?”
So you let Steve continue to drive, bypassing the main port and heading up the small dirt road, slowly climbing the mountains. It was beautiful - from up here, the views of the coast were breathtaking. For the first time, you truly realized how much Steve wanted to make this special, pulling out all of the stops for you. In all of your time in Italy, you had never had the time or money to do anything touristy, let alone take an actual vacation. Suddenly, it was nearly overwhelming. You glanced over with Steve, taking him in for a moment. Then, the idea hit you.
“How far are we?”
“Close - probably like 15 minutes. I think you’re going to like where we’re staying.”
“Is this road busy?” you asked quietly.
“Here? No, not really. It’s pretty quiet, I kind of wanted it to be -”
“Okay, good,” you said, cutting him off. “Because you’re going to find a place to pull over.”
He glanced over at you, perplexed.
“Why? Are you feeling alright?”
You nodded, leaning across the console to press your lips to his ear.
“I want to thank you, Harrington. Preferably by sucking your cock.”
You were surprised he didn’t drive the car over the edge of the road and into the ocean.
*******
You and Steve didn’t reach your destination until about 45 minutes later, after you had your way with him. In the end, he was a mess, begging you to put him out of his misery after prolonged teasing from the passenger seat. Afterwards, you were shocked he was even capable of driving again.
Finally, though, you saw it - the place you were presumably staying. Steve pulled the car up a small dirt driveway, to where a beautiful villa was tucked at the top of a hill. Its white stucco exterior was striking against the rolling green mountains, stone steps leading up to it. Steve helped you out of the car, gesturing to the house behind him.
“Is this -”
“It’s all ours, baby,” he said, beaming.
“I - I just assumed we were staying at a hotel or something -”
He nearly scoffed. “A hotel? No way, not for this. It’s just us here, the whole place to ourselves.”
He popped the trunk, pulling out the bags, insisting to take yours, too.
You practically bounded up the steps, not even containing your excitement as Steve unlocked the door and waved you in. 
Inside, it was bright and airy, the white walls stretching up to high, arched ceilings. There was an open kitchen and eating area, the floor a beautiful blue and white mosaic pattern. With the windows open and curtains pulled aside, the villa was bathed in sunlight. You found yourself going towards the back of the house, gasping at what you saw. Before you was a balcony, with a breakfast nook and, most notably, a pool. But, the most stunning part was the view.  The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before you, sparkling and bluer than the sky, the city barely visible behind the trees. It smelled like salt and citrus, presumably from the trees abundant with fresh fruit. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said paradise.
You felt Steve coming up behind you, his presence strong and warm. 
“Well - what do you think?”
You paused for a moment, turning around slowly to face him. He looked down at you expectantly, and you reckoned he’d probably be crossing his fingers right now if you couldn’t see them. For some reason, he still thought you were hard to impress.
“You did all this… just for me?”
He nodded.
Before he could even say anything else, you had his face in your hands, kissing him so fiercely that you could barely breathe. He pulled you closer, fingers digging into the small of your back. It was only when you pulled away to catch your breath that you spoke again.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
******
You hadn’t even taken time to explore the rest of the house, tumbling into bed with Steve without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of you took your time, too hasty to touch one another after being separated all week. Steve made quick work of your clothes, pulling you into his lap before sliding into you. You nearly cried at the feeling of him inside you again. Sex with Steve was like a drug, and you were finally able to admit to yourself that you were addicted. It wasn’t long before you were both messes, coming undone in a matter of minutes.
“Fuck,” he whispered, lips pressed to your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby - just like that, oh fuck -”
He was thrusting faster now, practically pounding up into you. You dug your nails into his back, dragging them down as you writhed in his arms, hips meeting his thrusts. Your finger picked up the pace on your clit, and you felt yourself losing control. You bounced in his lap, legs caging him as he pulled you closer. 
“Oh, I - ah! Steve - oh, shit, just like that - you feel so good -”
“Yeah? You like when daddy stuffs you with his cock?” he grunted.
“Mm, yeah - I’m so full, I feel you everywhere -”
“Keep squeezin’ me, baby - shit, you’re really going for it, so wet - are you close?”
You bit your lip and nodded,  moaning as you felt the tension building in your core.
“Yeah, so close - I’m gonna cum -”
“Damn right you are - such a good girl, always cumming on daddy’s cock.”
“Only for you,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him closer, arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. That was the final straw for Steve - he cried out your name, hips stilling as he painted your walls with his cum. You felt the warmth of him fill you, and you sighed. He stayed there, heavily for a moment. 
“Fuck,” he said after a moment. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you ran your fingers along his scalp soothingly.
“Wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Did you finish?”
You considered lying - it was nearly instinctual, having done it with other partners in the past. But, there was something about Steve that made it impossible to lie to him.
“No,” you admitted. “But, I came close, really close - you always make me cum, it still was good -”
“Nope, not happening,” he said, brow setting with determination. 
“What are you -”
But he was reaching down, thumb finding your clit where your bodies met, his softening cock still inside you.
“Steve, what are you - oh! Shit, I -”
You threw your head back, feeling yourself re-approaching your peak as he rubbed deep circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly picking up the pace.
“Steve - you’re still inside -”
“I know,” he whispered. “I want you to cum around me, can you do that, baby?”
“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his free hand found your breast. “I’m going to cum on your cock, because I’m your good girl -”
“And tomorrow,” he said, coating his fingers in the slick mix of both of you to stimulate your clit, “you’re going to cum over and over, until you can’t walk. I need to make up for it, gonna make you forget your own name, baby.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling yourself squeezing around him. “I’m gonna -”
“Let go,” he encouraged. “Do it, for me, baby.”
And you did. You screamed his name, pulsing and convulsing around his cock as he continued to work you through it. He was still working on your clit, gradually slowing down as you let the wave of pleasure wash through you.
After, you both just stayed there, tangled in each other as you struggled to regain your breath. You felt his heart thudding against yours, bathing in the afterglow as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.
“I missed you,” you finally admitted. “I missed this.”
His hand stilled. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, if you had crossed a line. But, then:
“I missed you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your skin.
You felt your face heat, and just pulled him closer to you, deciding not to say anything else, at risk of doing something you couldn’t come back from.
After a while, you found yourselves laying in bed in a comfortable silence. You could hear the crashing waves and cries of seagulls in the distance. You propped yourself up on your elbow, properly looking at the man beside you.
“So - now that we’re here - what’s the plan? For today?”
Steve stared up at the ceiling, thinking.
“Well, we really only have the afternoon now, so - I’ve got stuff for us to do over the next few days, so it’s really up to you. We can go into town, or hit the beach. Or, just hang out here - what do you think, birthday girl?”
You rolled your eyes. 
“It’s not my birthday yet -”
“As far as I’m concerned, this entire week is your birthday, baby.”
You felt your heart flutter, and bit your lip.
“Well, if I get to decide - beach?”
He grinned, reaching across to brush some hair out of your face.
“Sounds perfect, baby.”
******
Steve had presented you with a new bathing suit and beach cover-up, practically demanding to see you in it immediately. And, you rarely found it in yourself to say no to him. When he first saw you wearing it, you were genuinely concerned he was going to immediately ruin it by tearing it off of your body. But, he managed to control himself enough to make it out the door, his hand snaking around your waist as you headed down to the beach.
The closest beach to you, as it turned out, was only a short walk down the road. And, it was a pretty quiet one. Steve explained on the way how it was a lesser-known alcove, only really used by locals and not well-known amongst the tourists. Sure enough, the white sandy beach was relatively sheltered on all sides by the rocky cliffs, making you feel both so in-the-open and hidden.
You sighed as you settled onto the beach towel, soaking in the sun as Steve set up an umbrella, eventually finding his place beside you. The afternoon was relaxed and quiet, Steve allowing you space to read your book and sunbathe. You tried to think about the last time you let yourself relax like this - it was possible that you never had. 
Eventually, the water just looked too inviting, the sun becoming just a bit too oppressively hot, and you found yourself wandering down to the shoreline. You let the water lap over your feet, the waves warmer than you expected. It was only after you had waded out up to your waist that you heard the water breaking behind you, a telltale sign that Steve was joining. Before you could turn to him, his arms were wrapped around your waist, making you jump and squeal.
“Steve!”
He spun you around in the water, making a big splash in your wake.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. It was almost too affectionate, the way he said it, but you decided not to question it.
You just smiled, leaning in until his nose was brushing yours.
“Thank you, for this,” you murmured. “I know I’ve been saying it, but - I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to do anything like this, well… ever.”
His face softened a bit, and he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face.
“You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
A devilish grin, then, “For this.”
Then, he was pulling you into his arms and under the water with him, causing you to yelp with surprise as you became submerged. When you broke the surface, he was laughing like a little kid, earning a playful smack in the arm from you, followed by an indignant splash. And, for even just a few moments, it was easy to forget about everything, other than how much fun you were having.
Yes - this trip was exactly what you needed.
********
The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight filtering into the bedroom. It took you a moment to remember where you were - then, the sandy-colored walls, the soft linen, and the lingering smell of salt water and sunscreen reminded you.
You rolled over in bed, reaching across to find it disappointingly empty. You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the bleariness from your eyes. After scrounging around under the sheets, you eventually unearthed a t-shirt, the one you had pulled off of Steve last night. Shrugging it on, you padded through the house towards the back balcony, where the sounds of the outdoors filtered through the open door. Surely enough, there he was, his back to you as he set plates on the table. You wish you had a camera to capture it - the vision of Steve, shirtless with his disheveled morning hair, the sea sparkling behind him in the early sunlight. But, before you could appreciate it anymore, he seemingly sensed your presence and turned.
“Look who's finally risen!” he declared. “I was worried I’d have to wake you up before the food got cold!”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Got cold?”
“Yeah - I made a veggie frittata, I hope that’s alright. I got some pastries too, and fruit. The coffee’s almost done.”
“I - you cook?”
He stopped, crossing his arms. 
“What, did you think I couldn’t?”
You shrugged, throwing up your hands in defense.
“No! I just - I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you cook before.”
You walked towards the table, accepting the chair he pulled out for you as you sank down and settled.
“When did you get all this stuff?” you asked, taking in the spread before you somewhat in awe.
“Oh, um, this morning - I went for a run, and stopped at the market on my way back. Town’s not far.”
You couldn’t even fight how impressed you were, shaking your head in disbelief.
“How long have you been up?”
“A few hours,” he said, shrugging. He cut into the frittata and started loading it onto one of the porcelain plates, passing it to you before sitting down. “I’m usually up pretty early, you know that. I wanted you to sleep in though, glad to know I didn’t wake you.”
“Right. Well, thanks.”
It almost felt like too much, him going to all these lengths for you. Yes, buying you a meal was one thing - he did it all the time. But cooking for you, and with such care… it felt like a different thing entirely. But, you accepted it gratefully, not even realizing just how hungry you were until you started digging in.
You could get used to mornings like this - breakfast on the beach view balcony, fresh coffee and breakfast, Steve’s knee brushing yours under the table. After a while, Steve leaned back and smiled, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.
“So - are you feeling up for an adventure?” he asked, sounding slightly mischievous.
You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of a strawberry.
“What kind of adventure?”
“The kind you need a bathing suit for,” he said. “Preferably a bikini, but that’s really just for my benefit.”
You laughed. “Is that so?”
That was how you found yourself pulling on a bathing suit, pulled out of your bag along with a cover up and sun hat. Steve was already waiting for you when you emerged, a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, holding your beach bag out to you. You were finally starting to learn to relax, not even asking what he was planning - if it kept going the way this trip already had been, you knew he had a good surprise in store.
He took your arm in his, leading you out of the villa and to the car, tearing down the small dirt road until it became a larger, cobblestone one, descending down the hills into the main little town. The day was warm and bright, prompting Steve to lower the roof of the convertible. You let your eyes close, leaning back against the seat to feel the sun and breeze. You barely even noticed when Steve’s hand came to rest on your thigh.
You didn’t really open your eyes until the car slowed to a stop, realizing where you were. It was the pier, with boats of all different sizes and grandeur bobbing in the water. There was a bit of a hustle and bustle, with people loading and unloading, motors starting, dockhands untying boats and sending people off. You looked over at Steve quizzically, only to be met with a smile.
“You ready?”
“Are we -”
“Taking a boat out? Yes, yes we are,” he said, killing the ignition and hopping out of the car. He came around the other side to open the door and let you out before you had a chance to do it yourself. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he took your hand, deciding to indulge him.
He led you to the dock, and you couldn’t help but start eyeing the prospective boats waiting for you. Eventually, you stopped at a small motorboat, docked and ready to go.
“We - you’re driving?”
Steve nodded, throwing the bags onto the boat and hopping on.
“Yes - I’ve got a boating license.”
“Since when?”
“Since my dad made me get one when I was 16.”
Somehow, Steve Harrington remained an enigma - what else didn’t you know about him?
He turned, offering his hand up to you to help you on board.
“Do you trust me?”
You nodded, not even hesitating.
“Yes.”
“Good - then come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”
It was so easy to believe Steve, to trust him - when did that happen?
After passing some cash to the dockhand, the boat was untied and sent out, Steve manning the wheel as he headed out into the harbor. You leaned back in the leather seat behind him, holding onto your hat as the boat picked up speed. The waters gradually became less busy, the expanse of blue before you growing greater as you headed out to the sea.
“Where are we going?” you finally asked, practically yelling over the sound of the engine.
“A surprise,” he said.
“Of course.”
This earned a chuckle from him, followed by a gesture towards the cooler pack.
“By the way - I packed some drinks, if you want them. And food, too, but that’s for later.”
You grinned, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of rose, still cold and wet with condensation. You poured it into a plastic cup that you found in the bag, smiling endearingly at the thought of Steve doing all of this - shopping, planning, packing, doing everything with you in mind. You sighed, sipping your wine as the boat cut through the waves, the breeze blowing through your hair. Finally, you reached what you presumed was your destination: a smaller island came into view, surrounded by big rocky outcroppings sticking out of the water. You couldn’t even see any other boats docked around it.
“Where are we?” you asked, standing as the boat slowed to a stop. Steve threw the anchor down, with more ease than you expected.
“It’s called Sand City,” he said, propping a leg up on the boat’s edge as he tied the knot. “Well, that’s what locals call it - I’m not sure what it’s actually called. But, barely anyone knows about it - if I had to guess, we’re probably the only ones here.”
You glanced over at the rocky beach - from what you could see, there wasn’t another soul.
“Knowing you, you probably rented out the place,” you joked.
Steve chuckled. “I mean, if I could, I definitely would’ve.”
You laughed, but when he didn’t, you stopped.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
“Completely.”
You came up next to him, glancing over the side of the boat - the water was crystal clear, the current gentle and calm.
“So, how do we get out there?” you asked.
Steve grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head in one movement.
“We swim.”
You couldn’t help but smile as you dove in after him, the water a relaxing relief from the sun. The pair of you made your way to the shore rather quickly, pulling yourselves out of the water and onto the beach. Here, there wasn;t much of the soft white sand that you had seen on the main island. Instead, the coast was rocky, Steve taking your hand as he helped you weave through to spare your bare feet from the brunt of it.
“You know, for a place called ‘Sand City’ - there’s not a lot of sand,” you observed, following Steve up the beach.
“There’s a reason for that,” Steve said, leading you further up the beach. “See, like a hundred years ago, this place was used for sand mining - and it was a major port. But, they drained the resources, and couldn’t develop anything. See?”
He gestured further down the shoreline. Sure enough, in the distance there were larger wooden posts sticking out of the water, worn and dull with time.
“Those used to be the dock, before it collapsed. But, since there’s a steep dropoff after the sandbar, people like to dock their boats and make day trips out here. Like us, for example,” Steve explained.
“How do you know all this?” you asked, tone laced with surprise.
“I did some research,” he said, shrugging. 
“Why?”
“Honestly? I wanted to impress you,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.
You laughed, louder than you meant to.
“What?” he asked indignantly, stopping in his tracks.
“Nothing! It’s just kind of cute that you’re trying to impress me, I guess.”
“Shut up,” he muttered.
You stayed a few steps behind him, smiling to yourself. This was maybe the most relaxed you had ever seen Steve - he seemed younger, almost boyish. You wondered if this is what he was like, years before you met him. When he was your age, was he less hardened? Did he have less walls around him? You had to assume he did.
At one point, he leaned down to pick up a pebble, skipping it across the water.
“Nice, that skipped like, five times,” you remarked.
“You try,” he said, extending a flat pebble to you.
“I’m not any good at this,” you confessed.
“I’ll help you, here -”
He placed the stone gently in your palm, his hand engulfing yours.
“Just follow through like this, and kind of flick your wrist.”
You did your best to ignore how your skin tingled at his touch, following through on his guidance a few times before finally letting go. The stone skimmed the water’s surface, skipping once, before plopping in.
You threw your hands up in the air in celebration.
“Okay, I know that wasn’t much, but - better than anything I’ve done before!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Steve’s neck.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you pulled away quickly. Before he could say anything, you gestured for him to keep leading the way.
******
The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Steve led you up the island to a thatch of trees, where you came across the old ruins of a submarine. You spent a while investigating it, grabbing a fresh peach hanging off of the trees. You and Steve shared it, eventually returning to the water and swimming out to one of the rocks past the sandbar. You let yourself lay out and sunbathe, Steve by your side. Eventually, though, the one peach you had split didn’t seem to tide you over, your stomach grumbling. You groaned.
“Don’t worry, we’ve got a picnic on the boat,” Steve assured. “Want to head back?”
You agreed, welcoming the cool water as you dove back in, clambering back up onto the motorboat. Steve produced a true spread from the cooler, of crackers, cheeses, and grapes, topped off with a bottle of white wine to split. It was so idyllic, floating in the middle of the ocean, with the fresh charcuterie that Steve had so carefully packed for you. After you were full and satiated, you couldn’t help it - you had to start touching Steve. You found it hard to keep your hands off of him, tracing his constellation of moles on his back beneath the sun, both of you laying across a towel. You began to trace letters and words, asking him to guess - Steve’s name, your own, smiley faces and stars, anything you could think of. Steve, as it turned out, was shit when it came to guessing.
You found yourself feeling just a bit mischievous, deciding to press your lips between his shoulder blades instead.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice a bit rougher than it had been.
“What’s the chance of another boat passing us here?” you asked.
“Uh - minimal. Really slim, we’re pretty isolated,” he answered quickly.
“Good,” you whispered. “Because I wanna ride you, if you’ll let me.”
And he did, scrambling onto his back, gripping onto your hips as you straddled him. Your bathing suits were shed in a matter of moments, and you wasted no time in sinking onto him. The boat rocked precariously, but it was part of the thrill - Steve came undone in a matter of minutes, cumming deep inside of you. You followed shortly after, convulsing around him with your head thrown back, underneath the bright afternoon sun.
*******
The next few days passed in a blissful blur - Steve took you all around the island. One day, he rented a Vespa, having you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tightly as he drove you around to the other side, where a music and art festival was happening. He followed you around, dancing with you and buying you whatever you wanted from the vendors, insisting that you picked out whatever you wanted. Used books, fresh pastries, a sunhat, handmade mosaics, seashell earrings - whatever caught your interest.
One of the items you picked up was a pack of disposable waterproof cameras, which you immediately made quick use of. You began snapping photos of the town, the ocean views, and most of all, Steve. You caught candids of Steve walking down the street, running his hands through his hair, or his side profile, when he wasn’t paying attention. You got him to pose on occasion too, insisting on taking pictures at each new site you visited. Soon, Steve took one of the cameras, playing your own game and sneaking photos of you throughout the trip.
“Pose for me, baby, for the memories,” he insisted, pulling back to capture you every chance he got.
You and Steve made use of the villa, too. On the third day, you woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Steve bemoaned the inclement weather, but you just snuggled further under the covers.
“What are we going to do, then?” Steve grumbled.
“We can just stay here… in bed… all day,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his neck. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm hm - actually, today’s a perfect day to practice your Italian,” you added, smirking.
“What do you -”
“Here’s the deal,” you said, sinking a bit further below the covers. “I’m going to quiz you on what I’ve taught you so far - if you get it right, I keep sucking you off. You get it wrong, though… I stop, until the next one you get right. What do you say?”
You spent that morning edging Steve, who quickly became a whimpering mess at your mercy. His language retention, it turned out, wasn’t great. Every time he screwed up an Italian word or phrase, you pulled your lips off his cock, looking up at him with disappointment.
When he finally did cum, he begged to do it all over your tits, which you obliged. That, of course, led to a bath in the clawfoot tub, where Steve happily joined you, insisting on reciprocating. The rainy day, as it turned out, wasn’t a waste at all.
Another day, he took you out on a small ferry cruise to go snorkeling. You both dove through the shallows, exploring coral reefs and swimming through schools of fish. You were fairly certain that you’d never get over the color of the sea here - the bright, aquamarine water was stunning, and you were certain that if it was flatter underneath, you’d be able to see through the ocean for miles. You snapped a few photos underwater, hoping that they’d reflect what it looked like in-person. You doubted it, though. At one point, when you both broke the surface and climbed back onto the rowboat you had taken out, Steve was holding a lump of sand in his hand.
“What is that?”
He smiled, shaking it off under the water to reveal what looked like a gray rock. You furrowed your brow, confusion only growing and Steve produced a pocket knife. He cut into it along the edge - it was an oyster.
“In the mood for shellfish, Harrington?”
He just shook his head, prying the shell open. He squinted, then smiled.
“Well, looks like I’ve got some pretty good luck today!”
Before you could ask what he meant, he reached into the shell and pulled out -
“Is that a pearl?” you asked, eyes widening.
He nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to you.
“For you.”
You shook your head.
“No, Steve - do you know how rare that is? Just to find a natural pearl? I shouldn’t -”
“I was hoping to find one, just for you,” he assured. “Seriously - I want you to have it.”
You took it hesitantly, turning the small white stone in your hand. It was so small, perfectly round, with a few grains of sand still clinging to it. You shook your head incredulously.
“I - thank you,” you whispered. You fished your wallet out of your beach bag, tucking the pearl safely inside.
******
The evenings were filled with sunsets and wine, Steve insisting on bringing you to the best restaurants that the island had to offer. When you returned to the villa, you would take a dip in the pool - bathing suits optional. That’s why, by the time your actual birthday came around, it wasn’t a surprise that you were physically exhausted.
The morning of your birthday came on a Saturday, the last full day of your trip. You had attempted to stay up until midnight on Friday to properly ring it in, but you were so exhausted from the sun and copious amounts of wine consumed during the day that you were asleep before 11.
That night, you dreamed. Often, your dreams weren’t very vivid. If you remembered them at all when you woke up, there wasn’t really anything concrete. And, you supposed, this wasn’t really any different. You felt warm, only really seeing flashes of golden light, dancing behind your eyelids like stars. Your skin tingled, and you were just relaxed. You sighed in contentment, suddenly feeling your brow furrow at the realization that you could feel the mattress you were lying on, the soft sheets fisted in your fingers.
You weren’t sleeping anymore, not completely. You weren’t exactly sure when you had stopped, crossing the line between dreaming and consciousness. But suddenly, you were acutely aware of the air on your skin, the quickening of your breath, and, most notably, the feeling of warm lips pressed to your skin.
“Mm - Steve?” you grumbled, voice still groggy from sleep.
“G’morning, birthday girl,” he murmured from below the sheets, pressing a kiss to your navel.
“What’re you -”
“I wanted to make today extra special,” he whispered. “Starting right now.”
He continued to pepper kisses across your abdomen, traveling further down, down, down -
“Fuck,” you gasped as his breath ghosted over your bare cunt. “Steve -”
“Shhh, baby,” he whispered. “Today’s all about you - just relax, okay?”
Anything else that you wanted to say died on your tongue, your breath hitching as soon as his mouth made contact with your core. He licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue settling to swirl around your clit.
“Steve! Oh, shit - just like that. Oh my god -”
You felt your back arch as your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread wide for him as he devoured you.
Soon, one of his hands wandered from your thigh, gathering your slick as he circled your entrance.
You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back.
“Please, Steve,” you whined. He paused for a moment.
“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He started sucking, and you already shivered at the thought of him leaving a mark there, a reminder for later.
“Please - your fingers,” you begged.
“What about them?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“Inside me - please - fuck me with your fingers,” you exclaimed.
“If you insist, darling.”
That was your only warning. He plunged two fingers into your sopping entrance, returning his tongue to your clit. You practically screamed, writhing in the sheets as he loved on you in the best way he knew how.
He kissed and licked at your cunt like he was worshiping it. He grinned against your skin at the sound of your whines when he added a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.
You found your own hands wandering, looking to grab onto something, anything. Between his ministrations, you heard Steve murmur, “Your tits, baby.”
“What?”
“Touch your tits, sweetheart, you know you want to.”
You didn’t even question it, obeying as your hands found their way to your breasts. You cupped and palmed them, moaning at the added stimulation as Steve continued to eat you out.
“I’m close,” you breathed, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There was pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. You continued feeling your tits, toying with your nipples and squeezing at the soft flesh. 
Your orgasm felt like a dam breaking. You screamed Steve’s name as the pleasure washed over you, intense and white-hot like a tsunami. He worked you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shook. By the time he removed his fingers from you, you were a mess. You felt boneless, certain you’d sink all the way through the mattress if you weren’t careful.
Your breathing was deep and labored, not even capable of forming a coherent thought as Steve pressed soft kisses to your inner thigh. Just as he had started, he kissed his way back up your body - your stomach, your breasts, sternum, collarbone, neck - and, finally, your lips. You still faintly tasted yourself on him, and sighed into his mouth.
After several moments, you finally spoke.
“Jesus Christ, Steve.”
“So, that was good?” he asked.
You turned your cheek down to your pillow, bringing you face-to-face with the man lying next to you.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “I - I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life,” you admitted.
Steve practically puffed up with pride, fighting a smile.
“Is that so?”
You reached across the bed, running your fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, really. Best birthday ever.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s barely started yet!”
“Still - that would’ve made it just perfect, no need to do anything else.”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the pillow.
“Well, that’s definitely not all I have planned. We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”
You sighed, shaking your head.
“Of course we do. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to take a shower.”
You rolled out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, not even bothering with the fact that you were stark nude. You felt Steve’s eyes practically burning a hole through you, prompting you to cast a glance over your shoulder.
“I might need help, you know,” you said suggestively.
He didn’t need to be told twice.
********
Most of the day passed without a hitch. In fact, you would call it perfect. Almost, at least. You had breakfast on the balcony, the morning relatively slow and relaxed. Then, Steve took you to the sea, renting another boat until you reached what you learned to be Aragonese Castle. The ruins sat on a volcanic rock formation, accessible via a footbridge going across the water. On the island, you explored the castle, marveling at the sight from the top. You stood atop the structure, something older than you could even comprehend, staring out across the sparkling sea. Steve took your camera, snapping a few photos of you before you noticed.
“Come on, birthday girl, pose for me,” he begged with his go-to line, smiling as you grinned and threw your hands up in the air for the camera. 
After, you took the boat around the coast to another smaller island, making your way up to the little village there. Steve made good on his word, and as you wandered through the market, did his best to name all the items in Italian. Every time he got something right, you kissed him. For everything he got wrong, he had to buy you something from that vendor. In the end, it was working out much better for you, your bag filling more and more as you walked through.
You both walked along the beach, finding yourselves carrying your shoes as you let the water wash over your feet on the shoreline. The afternoon waned to the early evening, the sun moving from beating on your backs to golden, slowly sinking towards the horizon. You had returned to the main island, Steve insisting on returning home briefly to change out of beach clothes. You followed his lead, trusting whatever he had planned. As you were throwing on some makeup, you barely noticed him come into the bathroom behind you, too focused on yourself in the mirror.
“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “I know we haven’t exactly had an occasion for something like this yet, but I had this made for you - I was kind of hoping you’d wear it tonight.”
He held up a clothing hanger, shrouded in a garment bag. You smiled at him through the mirror, bounding over excitedly to unzip and look at what was inside.
“I - wow.”
“Put it on for me?” he asked. “It’s part of your birthday present.”
You obliged, kicking him out of the room, insisting that you wanted him to be surprised. You slipped on the dress easily, your breath catching in your throat as soon as you saw yourself in the mirror.
It was a vibrant, deep red, made of some kind of shimmering silk. Somehow, it both flowed over you and hugged you in all the right places - more than anything else Steve had gotten made for you, this had to have been done with you in mind. Somehow, you were certain it was the best you had ever looked. Valentina had outdone herself.
You opened the door slowly, mainly for dramatic effect. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a suit jacket over his button-down, the first few buttons notably undone. At the sight of you, he sat up quickly. His eyes widened, looking you up and down as he scrambled to his feet.
“Well, what do you think?” you asked.
It took Steve a moment to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for words. Then, softly:
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You felt your face heat, the blood rushing to your head creating a dull roar in your ears.
“You’re a liar,” you insisted.
“With you? Never.”
“Well, just one thing,” you said, coming closer to him before turning around. “I need help zipping it up.”
You felt Steve’s hands at the small of your back, pulling the zipper up slowly. His fingers brushed your exposed skin on the way up. And, when he finally reached the top, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“I have something else for you,” he whispered in your ear. Before you could ask, you felt something cold around your neck, a weight resting against your sternum. Your hand came up to touch it - a necklace. A ruby pendant to match the dress, the chain lined delicately with diamonds.
“Steve-” you said, turning to face him.
“Don’t say anything,” he said, beating you to what you were about to say.
“But - you’ve already put together this whole trip… I can’t -”
“You only turn 21 once,” he said. “It’s a big deal, you know.”
“Maybe in the States - not really so much here -”
“I guess that’s why I wanted to make it special, just for you,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”
His eyes were so soft, begging you to just say yes, and your chest suddenly felt warm.
“Thank you,” you finally said. “Really.”
Then, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hungry, or heated, or demanding. It was soft and slow. When he pulled away, hand cupping your jaw, it felt like you should say something else - but what? Before you could decide what it should be, he was holding out an arm to you. You hooked yours through it, letting him lead the way.
Sunset hadn’t happened yet, but it was probably soon - the sky was bathed in the deep golden of the sun, the day aging and giving way to the evening soon enough. You took the Ferrari, the top down as Steve drove down the hill and into town.
The place Steve had reserved for dinner was tucked into the mountain, made of old stone and terraced into the Earth. You were on the rooftop, your table set out so that you had a view of the city below, and the sea beyond. The sky was turning shades of orange and pink, promising a stunning sunset.
“Steve,” you started once you were settled into your chair, “this place - it’s stunning.”
You couldn’t even hide your awe, realizing for maybe the hundredth time that week just how lucky you were. 
“Just wait until sunset,” he said. “This is the most in-demand restaurant on the island.”
“And you got a reservation?” you asked, perusing the wine menu.
“I pulled some strings.”
“Naturally.”
You brought your feet to rest on top of his under the table. 
After ordering a bottle of wine, Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tobacco and rolling papers.
“Hope you don’t mind,” he said. 
“As long as you share,” you replied, grinning as he started rolling a second cigarette. 
As you lit yours up and took a deep inhale, you allowed a moment to fully take in the sight of Steve.
The last week had changed him. You thought about him, and how he had said that this was the first time he had taken a vacation from work. His skin was tanned, his hair a bit lighter from the time in the sun. It had grown a bit longer, too, since you’d first met him. 
As he breathed out smoke, donning sunglasses and bathed in the golden light of dusk, you felt your chest ache. For better or for worse, Steve Harrington has changed your life. 
After enjoying a decadent meal of seafood, flatbreads, and pasta, all shared with Steve, it was properly dark out. The only light came from the strong lights hanging around the patio, and the candlelight on the table. You were a bit tipsy from the shared bottle of wine, feeling warm and hazy. It was during dessert, as you were sipping a cappuccino and tasting your tiramisu, that Steve cleared his throat.
“So, I have one more present for you,” he announced, straightening up in his chair.
“Steve - no.”
“But -”
“You’ve already gotten me the dress, the necklace, this entire trip. And, well… everything else.”
The arrangement, which you two barely spoke of anymore. At least, not directly. He just sighed, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to you.
“It’s the last thing, I promise - please?”
You stared at him for a moment before finally conceding. Grabbing the envelope, you tore it open, pulling out the piece of paper inside. You stared at it for a moment, squinting in the dim candlelight. It was a map - a map of the night sky. You vaguely recognized it, thanks to the astronomy class you had to take during your first year of school.
“It’s - the sky?”
“Well, it’s a certificate, for proof.”
“Proof of what?”
He pointed to the text at the top. You read it once. Twice. Five times. You felt your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.
“Did you - did you name a star after me?”
Steve nodded slowly, assessing your reaction. 
“Yes. Well, specifically - it’s kind of stupid, but… it’s a star that’s over Rome in late May, right around when we met. I don’t know, I just thought - it was just an idea.”
When your eyes met his again, he was asking a silent question - expectant, nervous, his gaze asking, do you like it?
It was then that it hit you. It was like a train, knocking the breath out of you. And, without thinking, you said it:
“I’m in love with you.”
As soon as it tumbled out, you swore your heart stopped. Everything was spinning, and you were certain you were going to be sick. But, after an agonizing moment, Steve just raised an eyebrow.
“So, am I supposed to know what that one means?”
“I - what?”
“Are you quizzing me again?”
A wave of relief washed over you - you had said it in Italian. What Steve had heard was sono innamorato di te. You let out a deep breath, laughing nervously.
“Oh - yes. Yeah!”
“Okay - what does it mean?”
“Just, um - it means I love it. The gift, I mean. It… it was really thoughtful.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in his chair.
“Oh, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what you’d think, to be honest.”
You stared down at the paper, avoiding his eyes. You did your best to just focus on the page, hoping he couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking.
“No - it’s great. Thank you, really.” 
You forced a smile, meeting his eyes again. Then, you stood up suddenly, your chair sliding out behind you. Concern flickered across his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Me? Yeah, I just - I need to use the ladies’ room,” you mumbled. You took a step towards him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs to the lower part of the restaurant.
As soon as you were locked in the bathroom, you braced yourself on the sink. You did your best to steady your breathing, gripping to porcelain for dear life. That was a close call - too close. You immediately started chastising yourself - you were an idiot, a fool. Your one job was to not fall for him. It was the most important part of the agreement. Wasn’t the whole point of this to avoid complications, and heartbreak? 
You took a deep breath, assessing the facts:
You loved Steve Harrington. 
You weren’t supposed to love Steve Harrington. 
Now, every time you were with him, you’d be lying to his face
In a month, he’d be out of your life.
You felt nauseous, the room starting to spin. This couldn’t be happening. But, it was. You stared at yourself in the mirror - your eyes were glassy, threatening to break into full-on tears at any moment. No, you couldn’t do that - you weren’t going to ruin this perfect day, perfect week. This was so you, to ruin everything for yourself at the last minute. You gathered yourself, fighting the urge to cry. You were going to make this work - you had to. Steve never had to know how you were feeling, how much you had fucked this whole thing up. So, you straightened yourself up, doing your best to regain composure, and headed back upstairs to the table.
Steve visibly relaxed when he saw you approaching.
“Everything okay?” he asked as you slid into your chair.
“Oh - yeah. All good, it’s just - I’m stuffed!” you declared, laughing half-heartedly. “Seriously, this was delicious, but - I can’t eat or drink anything else.”
Steve nodded. “Oh, no problem - I can get the check.”
“Yeah, okay.”
You had to seem normal - to make yourself feel normal. Nothing had to change between you two, as far as you were concerned.
So, you let Steve take you home, your hand on his leg making him drive the car borderline recklessly. You both stumbled through the door of the villa, shedding one another of your clothes like your lives depended on it.
Maybe you were reading too much into it, or maybe something truly had shifted. More likely, the reality was somewhere in the middle. But, the sex wasn’t desperate, or urgent. You took your time with one another, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the last time you’d ever do so. Steve held you close, kissing every inch of you, his lips whispering prayers and sweet nothings into your skin.
You gave it all back to him, thanking him for everything he’s done for you with filthy words whispered in his ear, telling him how good he was making you feel.
He sucked bruises into your skin, and you left scratches down his back. When you came, it was together, the pleasure peaking and flowing through both of you in unison. After, he laid on top of you, your fingers running gently through his hair as you stared at the ceiling. You just let yourself bathe in the afterglow, hanging on to Steve like he’d disappear if you didn’t.
It was later, after your head had settled onto his chest with his arms wrapped around you, that he finally spoke.
“So - did you have a good birthday?”
“Mm,” you hummed blissfully. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear, grounding you.
“Best birthday I ever had,” you added.
“Really?”
“Yes,” you affirmed. “You - you made me feel special. I don’t think anyone’s bothered to do that before, not like this.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said solemnly. “You deserve better.”
You shook your head, burying your face further into his chest.
“You’ve made up for that,” you assured him. “Trust me.”
His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.
“Good,” he said. “I mean, we’re doing round two next weekend, with Robin’s not-surprise party.”
You groaned.
“I forgot about that.”
“It’s only because she loves you, you know.”
You swore your heart skipped a beat at the word. You immediately felt stupid for even letting that happen, as if it was voluntary.
“Yeah, she does,” you conceded. 
“I don’t want this trip to end,” Steve admitted. His voice was lower, words slurring a bit. You realized that his breathing had slowed down considerably - he was drifting.
“Me neither,” you admitted. “Let’s just stay forever.”
It sounded like a joke, earning a low chuckle from him. It didn’t feel like one, though.
“Whatever you want,” he murmured.
After a few moments, Steve went completely silent. His heartbeat was slower, and you sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.
Without him to distract you, your mind started racing. The anxiety was gone - no, the feeling now was pure and utter dread. But, the most horrible part was when you glanced over at the man beside you - all you felt was butterflies, churning in your stomach like some sweet sickness.
You stared at Steve for a while - the rise and fall of his chest, his disheveled hair, the way the moonlight cast over his form, highlighting his silhouette.
“Hey, Steve? You awake?” you whispered through the darkness. No response.
You brought yourself up onto your elbow, leaning in just a bit closer. You’d never be able to tell him to his face, but this was the closest you’d get - maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. At least, that was what you told yourself.
“I love you, Steve,” you whispered. No response.
You promptly turned over under the covers, burying your face in the pillow. And, finally, the tears came. Fast and hot, they leaked onto the pillow, marking it like acid as you did your best to sob silently.
You were fucked. Completely and utterly ruined. For the first time in ages, you cried yourself to sleep. Before you finally drifted off, one question was on your mind:
What were you going to do when Steve left for good?
author's note: hi everyone! Thanks for your patience for this update! Work has been kicking my ass, and it's been harder to make time to write. Before anyone says anything, no, I don't speak Italian, nor have I been to Italy. I did my best, but some details were fabricated for the story, so if it's not accurate - oh well! Thanks to everyone for all the kind messages, and to my bestie Em for the endless inspiration. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!
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bewby · 11 months
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my dashboard simulator
the new succession episode ...... Woah ... (0 notes)
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i fucking hate my ugly ass roommate So much #personal posts (3 notes)
picture of a mans asshole #🤤 (530 notes)
some genshin guy #MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW.... (837 notes)
i'm dj Blanky times Sarajevo let me see your beautiful snork mimimimis (1.683 notes) (replies: this post sucks)
WHY STEVE HARRINGTON IS GAY!!!!!!!!!!! (15 notes)
will i ever fit in? i don't think i even exist. i'm not alive. this is getting so tiring. (1 note) (reply: Are You Looking For A SugarDaddy To Spoil you ? My Kik is hungandrichdavid1976)
kpop man gifset again #PLEASE JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE (324 notes)
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ydbugs · 1 year
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girl, you really got a hold on me 💥
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tfyoulookingatgiuxs · 3 months
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Smut ♡ angst ◇ fluff ☆ confort ♧
☆ᴏɴᴇ-sʜᴏᴛ
Princess tratment - ☆ (SugarDaddy!Steve x Soft!Reader)
☆ʙʟᴜʀʙs
Born to die - ◇ (Steve Harrington x Suicide!Reader)
☆ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs
???
☆ᴍɪɴɪsᴇʀɪᴇs
𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐶𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑆 𝐹𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇
×Class Fight - ◇ (Steve Harrington x Soft!reader)
×Troubles - ◇ (Steve Harrington x Soft!reader)
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IDHTMA - 1/5
Hawkins is getting colder and Steve cant help but notice Billy is still wearing that dumb denim jacket.
-1.2k words
-It’s been in my car for weeks just take it, it doesn’t have to mean anything-
!WARNINGS! Swearing, Reference to past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler!
After the upside down incident, Hawkins was getting colder. The frost dancing on the grass in the mornings had turned to ice and soon would turn to snow, yet Steve couldn’t help but notice, Hargrove is still wearing that dumb denim jacket and he wants to do something. Despite the fact that Billy is the reason that he will probably never be able to breathe through his nose properly ever again. So here he is, in JC Penney buying an overpriced, soft, bomber jacket, the largest size in hopes of it fitting.
“Who are you buying this for again?” Dustin asked through a mouthful of hotdog,
“No one,” Steve muttered swiping his card, “and don’t talk to me with your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”
“Do you want your receipt?” the Cashier asked glancing over Steve’s still slightly beaten up face. The question caused Steve’s head to spin with questions and doubts. Will he want to return it? Will he not like it? What if he burns it or something? He might. If he returns it though, he'll atleast get the cash and it’s the thought that counts anyway, isn’t it?
“Steve?” Dustin burst through his thoughts, waving his hotdog on a stick in front Steve's nose,
“Yeah, just throw it in the bag,” he thanked the lady and dragged Dustin out of the store, “I don’t understand how you eat it anyway. They’re  greasy and are probably blocking your arteries as we speak,” Dustin just rolled his eyes and took another bite as they got on the escalator and started heading towards the parking lot,
“Why did you buy me it if you’re so worried about my health?”
“I just want to make sure that you’re eating, even if it's a,” Steve paused looking over with judgement in his eyes, “a hotdog on a stick.”
“Well since you are wasting money and blocking my arteries with my $2 hotdog on a stick, who is worth a $70 jacket? Because I don’t know anyone that you think is worth that much.” Dustin said trying to make his obvious snooping sound casual and sarcastic,
“Don’t take that tone with me, I’m just making sure that you are eating and cared for. If all you will eat is a hotdog on a stick, I’m happy that it’s something,” he paused seemingly in deep thought, “anyway that jacket is going to someone who needs it.” Dustin put his hands in the air,
“Okay, no need to get defensive,”
“I’m not defensive,” Steve said, “This is your stop, get out of my car.”
“That was the most defensive, not defensive tone I have ever heard.” Dustin dead panned getting out of the car,
“Say hi to your mom for me and call me if something happens!” Steve called after him as he walked up the path. The Henderson’s front door closed after Dustin waved, Steve looked over to the JC Penney bag in the passenger footwell and threw it into the back. Then the BMW’s lights pulled from drive. 
Three weeks later the jacket was still in Steve's trunk and the cold was coming in quick with a Blizzard warning for that night. The news echoed in Billy’s ears as he desperately tried to start his car, turning the key again and again and then, the battery died. Billy Hargrove was stranded on the coldest night of the year at the side of a back road in the middle of nowhere. 
“Fucking piece of shit car!” He yelled hitting his steering wheel, the cold was seeping in, with no heating and no lights he was left in the darkness. He was regreting just wearing his denim jacket and a crop top, “Fuck.” He muttered, his watch read 1:13 am and he couldn’t even walk anywhere because of the holes in the bottom of his hightops. At one point he must of passed out in the camaro as he woke up to knocking on the passenger and lights flooding in from the back window. He looked up through tired eyes to see Steve Harrington peering back at him, he cracked his neck and opened the door. Stepping out into the snow, the water seeps in through is shoes and the uncomfortable coldness enters his bones.
"Hey man, you need a ride?" Harrington asked concerned as Billy lights a cig and leans against his car nonchalantly as if he wasn't stranded.
"What are you doing out on a night like this pretty boy?" Billy exhaled smoke into the night and partially into Steves face and then did that dumb tongue waggle thing,
"Just driving," he shrugged before pulling his fancy coat closer to his body, "do you need a ride or not?"
After a moment, Billy dropped his cig into the snow, "fuck it, why not?" He started heading towards Steve's BMW, undoubtedly bought by his daddy dearest. Billy opens the door and the heat hits him. He didn't realise how fucking freezing he acctually was and sunk into the warmth of the car.
"Do you want a thicker jacket?" Steve questioned,
"Are you offering your coat, always a gentleman, Harrington," Billy laughed, with an empty smile that didn't quite reach his eyes,
"No dipshit, I have a spare one," Steve reached into the back and pulled the Jcpenney bag from behind the passenger seat,
"New?" Billy said opening the bag, "tags on it aswell, do you just really hate this coat?"
"I just don't wear it, put it on and stop shivering in my car or shiver somewhere else," Steve winced at his own words, 'smooth, Steve, real smooth.' More concerned about Billy totally rejecting it than putting the car into drive, watching Billy remove his cold denim jacket from the corner of his eye.
Putting the jacket on it fit Billy perfectly and was so, so thick, and warm. "There is no way this is yours, it's way too big," Steve watched as Billy zipped it up and nestled into the fluffy collar. Steve finally put the car into drive and pulled out and onto the snowy road.
"I'm taller than you, dumbass,"
"By like, what? An inch? And I'm much more muscular than you are,"
"Its been in my car for weeks just take it, it doesn't have to mean anything,"
Hargrove was about to make an attempt to keep up the bickering though the drowsiness was evident in his face, Steve just turned the radio up and kept driving with a knowing look on his face.
The next day Billy pulled up to school wearing his new expensive jacket and nodded at Steve as he walked by, no shove, no comment about Steve's ex-rulership but a polite nod that Steve returned while on his way to his locker with Nancy and Jonathan,
"What was that?" Nancy questioned,
"What was what?" Steve responded while pulling a textbook from his locker,
"That," she gestured, "you and Hargrove,"
"Nothing," Steve desperately tried to shrug her off, and leave until Jonathan decided to pipe up,
"Are you two friends or something now?"
"Freinds?" Nancy's jaw dropped as if it was impossible, "you cannot be friends with him Steve, he hurt you so badly in october, he beat you unconscious, you two cannot be friends."
"And you haven't hurt me Nancy?" Steve snapped, slamming his locker and practically hissing "or do you not remember the bullshit." Before heading straight for class without a glance back.
*****
First written anything, thanks for reading
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So I know that Billy is very much Babygirl, and I love, love, love, Feminizing Billy as much as possible right before Young!SugarDaddy!Steve Harrington treats him to a night of spicy passion as much as the next person...
But what about the flip side... Feminized!ServiceTop!Steve Harrington with Macho!PowerBottom!Billy Hargrove? What are your thoughts on this?
Ok i love the concept of it but that other fandom killed fem!Steve concept for me. I can't like it anymore. Since I heard someone saying Steve found his divine femininity in S4 i can't look at it the same way /j. No but seriously I hate feminized!Steve as much as i love feminine!billy because they use it to much it makes me wanna puke atp.
Like i said concept sounds fun but not for me i don't think i can read.
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