"In(toxic)ated" - Rafe Cameron x Reader
a/n: from an anon request for reader who enjoys rafe's toxicity combined w/ rafe and reader making each other jealous requested by @diiickbrainn made girly pop a bit toxic too hehehe 🩷
Summary: If love is supposed to make you crazy, then you and Rafe are definitely doing it right.
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, jealousy, toxic relationship, physical violence (not against reader), they both high key kinda psycho, dom!rafe fighting dom!reader RIP, reader gets dommed, edging, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, hair pulling, daddy kink
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
By the time Rafe gets to school, he’s already in a pissy mood. He sees you standing at the end of the hallway, chatting away to your best friend, Scarlet, and his younger sister, Sarah, as if you don’t have a care in the world. As if you didn’t just fucking blow him off over text. He runs a hand over his face, trying his best to calm himself, before walking over to you. His bad mood is abated a bit by how fucking good you look today in that uniform skirt, the one he knows you had hemmed so that it could show off those fucking thighs of yours. Shit, he hates getting horny in the morning.
He walks over to stand beside you, giving you a charming grin, “So what’s up with not answering my texts?”
“I was busy,” you reply airily, slamming your locker shut.
“Busy with what? Not with me, that’s for damn sure,” Rafe frowns, Scarlet and Sarah deciding to make themselves scarce, not wanting to be on the frontlines for another one of your fights, “The fuck were you ‘busy’ with?” He demands, using air quotes, which just pisses you off even more, “Too busy to text me back? Be for real.”
“I don’t know, you know who you should text? Elena,” you retort, flipping your hair over your shoulder and turning to walk away, “You two seemed really fucking friendly in chem yesterday.”
He stares at you incredulously, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in toward him. Rafe grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.
“You really think I give a shit about Elena? Who am I in love with, Princess? Answer me that.”
“Yourself.”
Rafe clenches his jaw, visibly annoyed at your sassy demeanor this morning, “Don’t be a fuckin’ smart-ass, Princess.”
“Whatever, Rafe,” you roll your eyes, “Can you, like, move? I have to get to econ.”
“Uh, no, sweetheart, I can’t move.” He shakes his head, “You just don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” His hands move to the hem of your skirt, ghosting along the soft skin of your thigh, “You think all I care about is myself? You think I don’t notice every little thing about you, baby?”
You try turning your face away in annoyance only for him to grip your jaw in his hands and force you to face him again. As much as you hate to admit it, the whole thing is kind of turning you on. You love when he gets bossy like this. You give him a petulant look, wanting to make the moment last a while longer.
“You know how cute you are when you pout?” He coos, almost mockingly, “Makes me think about how pretty your lips look when they’re wrapped around my dick. You know you’re the only one I got eyes for, pretty girl.”
“I don’t like how close she sits to you,” you finally relent and mumble, crossing your arms, “You’re mine.” You gaze up at him, batting your long lashes that frame your doe eyes, making him melt at the sight, “Just don’t talk to her anymore?”
“It’s not like I talk to her for fun, only when we have to do shit for chem. But you’re my princess and I’ll do anything you want,” he chuckles.
You beam up at him, pecking him on the lips, “Thank you, babe.”
“Yeah, yeah, just quit being such a brat,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the two of you begin walking toward your classroom.
The crowd in the hallway parts, making way for the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Kildare Academy. And the two of you just soak it in as you walk, your heads held high, hand in hand. The looks of envy on your fellow student’s faces are unmistakable as you pass.
“You love it when I’m a brat.”
Well, he can’t deny that. He does love it.
Rafe comes to walk you to trig, one of the two classes you share along with chem. You take your usual seats at the back of the classroom, Rafe pulling your desk closer to his. You cross your legs, your foot resting against his calf, and lean against his shoulder, waiting for class to begin. Of course, the peaceful moment doesn’t last long, considering Rafe grows irate with jealousy when the kid who sits in front of you, Toby, turns around to smile at you when passing back your quiz.
“The fuck are you smiling at her for, nerd?” Rafe demands.
“Rafe, what the fuck?” You hiss, “What is wrong with you?”
“He was checking you out! And you were letting him!”
“You’re literally insane,” you shake your head, “He smiled at me.”
“No, he smiled at your tits. Why are you fuckin’ defending him? You think he’s hot or something?”
“No, I don’t think he’s hot,” you whisper, trying to remain quiet so as not to hurt Toby’s feelings, “Jesus, Rafe, he’s not my type! What do you think he’s going to do? Calculus on my pussy or something? Be for fucking real.”
Rafe wants to crack a smile at your words, but holds himself back, “Stop talking to him.”
“He does my trig homework. No.”
“Well, he can stop. You’re so smart, baby, smart enough to do it yourself.”
“If I can have someone do it for me,” you say slowly, as if you’re speaking to a small child, “Why would I do it myself?”
Rafe narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Fuck, he looks good with his shirt sleeves rolled up like that, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing on leafing through your binder to find your homework. He leans in close to you, the smell of his cologne filling your senses. Stupid dick.
“You can do anything yourself. You don’t need a man to do it for you.”
You scoff slightly, “You literally are always telling me ‘don’t worry, Princess, Daddy will take care of that for you’. Make it make sense, Rafe.”
He scowls, grabbing your nose, pinching slightly, ignoring your whines of protest, “That’s different. I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you n’ shit. Now stop arguing with me.”
“Owwwww, Rafe!”
He snickers at the nasally tone of your voice, finally letting go of your nose to ruffle your hair, earning another frown from you, “That’s what you get for talking back to Daddy, Princess.”
Rafe watches with affection as you open your compact and immediately begin fixing your hair, retouching your makeup and lip gloss. He rests his cheek on his palm, content to ignore the teacher lecturing at the front of the classroom and just keep looking at you. Does he find it slightly annoying that you’re not paying attention to him? Yes. More than slightly, really. But he can fix that.
“Hey,” he whispers, nudging you, “Guess what?”
“Hm?”
“I blocked Elena on Insta just now,” he says proudly, waiting for your praise, every bit a puppy looking to get scratched behind the ear by its owner.
“Good job, babe,” you reply, barely giving him a second glance as you continue writing your notes.
Rafe pouts slightly, and if you’d seen it, you might’ve even felt a bit sorry for him, “Can I get a thank you or something? You don’t sound very appreciative.”
You turn to face him, your tone biting, “Thank you, babe, for blocking the bitch whose follow request you shouldn’t have fucking accepted in the first place. Well done.”
Shaking his head, he lets out a huff before giving you a rueful smile, “You’re fuckin’ sassy today, baby. Maybe I’ll just have to punish you for it tonight. Spank that cute little ass and remind you who the boss is around here.” Rafe pauses, glancing around before leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, “I could even do it here at school. Drag you into one of the empty classrooms. Fuck you nice n’ slow till you’re creaming all over my cock and learn not to be so rude to Daddy.”
Though his words make a shiver go up and down your spine, you’re too determined to remain pissed off to let it show, “I’m not being fucking rude,” you hiss, crossing your arms, “God. Do you realize how lucky you are to be dating me? All the guys at this school would kill just for a chance with me. You should know that.”
“And I’d kill them for fuckin’ looking at you,” he replies, “And just so you know? If you were to leave me, which you won’t, I’d have a line of bitches begging to go out with me.”
“Oh, would you?” You smile at him, sickeningly sweet before letting your lips curl back in a sneer, ripping the charm bracelet he gave you for your birthday from your wrist, tossing it in his face, “Then go date one of them!”
Rafe sits there for a moment in complete shock before shaking his head, “Fine? You wanna be a brat? We’re done.”
“Okay,” you shrug, grabbing your backpack and strutting off toward the door to the classroom, “Bye.”
He’s completely frozen for a moment before rushing after you into the hallway, all of your fellow students watching your third breakup so far this school year play out, “Hey! Don’t you walk away from me like that! Get that cute little ass back here!” You ignore him, continuing to walk, going out toward the student parking lot. Rafe manages to grab your hand, turning you to face him, “You’re not walking away from me right now, baby. You’re mine and you’re gonna listen to what I’ve gotta say. Throwing tantrums and breaking up with me over nothing? What’s got you acting so crazy, huh?”
“Oh, so now I’m crazy?” You laugh, glaring up at him. Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you are when you try to talk tough, “Suck my ass, Rafe!”
He watches as you get into your car and drive away, your tires screeching on the asphalt as you lift your middle finger high in the air and leave him in the dust.
Rafe wonders if you’re going to show up to his party tonight or not. This is the longest a breakup between the two of you has lasted, and he’s not sure if you meant it for real this time. He keeps that Chanel charm bracelet in his pocket, standing in a circle with a few of the other seniors, including none other than Elena. Is it petty of him? Yes. Extremely petty. But he knows that’s what he has to do to get your attention.
You walk in, making sure to wear your hottest dress, your strappiest heels, both of which were presents from Rafe of course, your hair pulled back to highlight the immaculate job you’ve done with your makeup. Your dress is black with parts of it cut out to show off your arms, your stomach, your cleavage, and of course, your legs. You walk into Tanneyhill as if you own the place, brushing past Rafe, slamming your shoulder against Elena’s, making her spill her drink. You smirk to yourself, seeing Scarlet waving you over.
Rafe calls after you, “Hey! Where are you going? I was waiting for you!”
You turn toward him, sneering slightly as you give Elena a sidelong glare, “Really? Doesn’t seem like you were waiting around. What happened to only talking to her for class? But whatever,” you give him a false smile, “I don’t own you. You can do whatever you want. We’re not even dating anymore.”
His jaw drops as he watches you saunter off to your friends, Sarah shooting him an awkward smile and a wave. He lets out a hiss of annoyance when he sees one of Scarlet’s friends chatting you up. You’re looking up at him, running your hand along his forearm with those pretty manicured fingers, batting those long lashes and giggling at everything he says. Before Rafe even knows what he’s doing, he’s puffing his chest out, storming over to where your group stands.
“You think flirting with my girlfriend is fucking funny, huh?” Rafe demands, shoving the guy away from you, “You think touching her like that is okay? The fuck is your name, bitch?”
“Babe, stop-” You let out a yelp of surprise as Rafe’s fist goes flying, straight into your new friend’s nose, “Rafe! Oh my God!”
Rafe ignores your squeal of protest, throwing punches, looking ready to kill. Looking like he’s enjoying it. Topper and Kelce try to pull him away, but to no avail. He keeps wailing on the poor guy, no doubt breaking his nose. And you? You just watch, biting your lip to hide the smile that spreads across your face. Rafe knows you love this. When he’s willing to fight for you, when he’s willing to get those knuckles all bruised and bloody to keep you with him, to show everyone who you belong to.
When he’s finally satisfied with the damage he’s done, you walk toward him, gently taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “Let’s go to your room and fix you up, yeah?”
He nods, spitting at his rival before allowing you to lead him away.
Rafe smirks at you as you clean the cuts on his knuckles, his eyes darkened with lust, nostrils flaring slightly, “You do this on purpose. Turns you on when I go rage mode. You little psycho.”
You shrug and giggle as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, “What can I say? You just look so sexy when you’re mad.”
Before you know it, the two of you are locked in a fiery kiss, your teeth clashing as you fight each other for dominance. His hands slide under your dress, groping at your ass, your thighs, any bit of flesh he can get his hands on while you tug at his hair, nails raking along his scalp, smirking as he moans into your mouth. You push Rafe down on the bed, straddling his waist, grinding your hips against him, your lacy panties against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. You moan, moving your hips faster and faster, grinding harder and harder, your fingers twisting in his shirt. Rafe lets out a growl of annoyance and flips the two of you over so that you lay beneath him, his hand reaching for the Chanel ribbon you left in his room the last time you came over, the one that had wrapped the very charm bracelet you threw at him earlier today. Only now? They’re tying your wrists together above your head.
“Such a little fucking brat,” he snarls, “You need Daddy to remind you what happens when you talk back, huh?”
You let out a low moan as he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your dress just enough to land a series of slaps against your ass. You bury your face in his pillow, whining his name, pressing your thighs together, seeking the friction you so desperately crave. But Rafe won’t let you do that. He nudges your thighs apart and tugs your panties down, landing a slap right against your wet folds, making you throw your head back and cry out his name. You struggle against the way he’s tied your hands together, wanting to reach out for him.
But he’s won this battle. He’s in charge right now. You feel him palming at the flesh of your ass, his cock pressed against you as he slowly slides inside, a low groan escaping his lips at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. He lands another smack against you, admiring the subtle jiggle of your flesh, the way your body tenses around him, squeezing him so tight. And then, he moves to grab your throat, fucking into you like he hates you. His long, fat cock fucks into you so deep that you’re sure if you were on your back, he’d be pressing down against it, watching you squeal. But right now? He just wants to tug at your hair, choke you, whispering filthy words in your ear.
“This fucking pussy is all mine, Princess,” he growls, each thrust deeper and harsher, your climax quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around him, “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine and no one can have you except me. Not ever. You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours, Rafe,” you sob, holding onto the pillow for support, “All yours, Daddy. Please, need to come so bad…”
And just as you’re about to, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back, lifting one of your knees over his shoulder and fucking into you even deeper. Your eyes roll back, toes curling as he continues to restrict your airflow, vision dancing with dark spots, getting closer and closer and closer until finally? You reach your peak, white hot pleasure shooting through your entire body, your mind barely registering the fact that Rafe has decided to cum inside you, filling your pussy, his eyes dancing with delight as he watches it leak out, his fingers moving quickly to push his cum back in, snickering to himself at the way you whine his name.
Rafe then collapses on the bed beside you, reaching out for his jean pocket. He undoes the ribbon around your hand and places your bracelet on your wrist once again, pressing a kiss to every one of your fingertips.
“I love you,” he says seriously, staring you straight in the eyes, his hand resting on your cheek, “And only you. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, baby. And don’t you ever try to fuckin’ leave me again. Cuz I might just tie you to this bed and keep you here forever.
Your eyes dance with mirth as you reply, “Promise?”
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what’s your favorite scary movie?
summary: porn star eddie is doing a halloween film with his costar, one that involves a certain mask.
pairing: porn star eddie x porn star reader
word count: 5.9k
warnings: being filmed, daddy kink, use of a realistic plastic knife (nothing weird with it, though), unprotected sex, creampies, choking, brief oral sex (m & f receiving), mentions of anal, breast play, anal fingering (f receiving), degradation, rough sex, kinda dubcon
a/n: im aware halloween is over, but its always Halloween in my mind! also, sorry if anything like this has been done. I just returned to tumblr, and haven’t read many fics here in like 8-9 months.
18+ ONLY. minors do not interact or follow, or you’re getting blocked.
————————————-
Ring! Ring!
The phone next to you was ringing its familiar ringtone, and you looked at it with an eye roll. Unknown number, typical. You were acting the part of someone who didn’t like spam calls, but you hated them just as much in real life, too. You turned your attention back to the TV, ready to forget all about it and delete any voice mail they may leave, when it began to ring again. The same number popped up, and you killed the call. They called again, and again, and after the fifth time, you’d finally had enough.
“What do you want?” you asked irritably.
“y/n,” a deep voice came over the phone. “How nice to catch you.”
“Who is this?” you asked.
“That doesn’t matter,” he said, and you could hear a grin in his voice. “I was lonely, and thought I would give you a call.”
“Very funny,” you said. “Tell me who you are.”
“What’s the fun of that?” he asked. “Isn’t mystery supposed to be more fun?”
“Is it?” you asked. “You’re probably just someone I know, trying to play some kind of weird joke.”
“Am i?” he asked. “I don’t think I know you at all.”
“Then how did you know my name and my number?” you asked. “Answer me that.”
“Maybe I have my own methods,” he said. “Ever think of that?”
“Ha ha,” you said with an eye roll. You hung up, but the same number called again and you picked up. “Yes?”
“That wasn’t very wise of you,” he said dangerously. “You didn’t even let me ask my questions.”
“They’re probably something really fucking gross,” you said. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Now, now,” he said, tsking. “What do you take me for?”
“A pervert,” you said.
“You’re right,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “But that isn’t why I’m calling you.”
“No?” you asked with a chuckle. “Coulda fooled me.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked, and you could almost hear the grin in his voice.
“What the fuck?” you asked, sitting up on the couch. “What kind of question is that?”
“Are you going to answer it?”
“No, now goodbye–”
“Hang up again, and you’ll regret it.”
The threatening tone of his voice gave you pause. “Who is this?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asked again.
“Whatever,” you said, and dared to hang up. It didn’t last long until he called again, and you rolled your eyes as you answered. “What?!”
“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I’m not gonna entertain you,” you said. “You’re a fucking creep.”
“Just answer my question and I’ll leave you alone,” he said.
“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I really like Psycho, Halloween, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist.”
“I know you like Friday the 13th,” he said, and he laughed evilly on the other end. “I can see that you’re watching it right now.”
You froze, sitting bolt upright. “What did you just say?”
“Never mind that,” he said. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No..” you answered automatically, looking around the darkness of your windows for any signs of life. “How do you know what I’m watching…?”
“Just a guess,” he said.
You got up and turned on all the lights, looking around again to see if you could spot someone. “Look, I need to go–”
“Don’t hang up,” he nearly shouted.
“Look, this isn’t funny or cute anymore,” you said. “I’m really uncomfortable, so if you could please–”
“You look really sexy in your pretty lingerie,” he said. “I mean, I think that’s what it is. You’re wearing that pretty pink babydoll with a thong. You like to tease people, y/n? That isn’t very nice.”
“Fuck you, creep,” you said.
“You didn’t ask what my favorite scary movie is,” he said.
“I don’t care!” you cried. “Leave me alone!”
“It’s The Strangers,” he said, and you could swear his voice sounded different now. More echo, closer somehow. “You know, that movie where those people break into that house.”
“I’m–” you began, and your back collided with someone as you backed away.
You played the part of terrified really well, and you could see the cameraman giving you a thumbs up as you kept the facade. You turned around slowly, shouting in surprise when you came face to face with a man in a mask. He was in all black, and the rest of his mask was black as well, except for the face. It looked like a ghost, its mouth agape in some kind of eternal shock. In his hand was a knife, but you knew it wasn’t a real one. It was plastic that was made to look like the real deal, something the director found at a joke shop for a little bit of nothing. You shrieked and tried to run away, but he grabbed you and held you against his back as he stroked your hair in a near-loving gesture.
“Shh,” he said in your ear, trailing the knife down your arm. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Could have fooled me,” you said, feeling yourself already starting to get wet as you felt him hardening against your ass. “Why are you here, then?”
“I was hoping maybe I’d get lucky,” he purred, moving the knife between your breasts as you shivered. “You’re so much hotter up close.”
“And what do YOU look like under that thing?” you asked, your voice conveying the whole “stall him” vibe that the director wanted you to go for. “It’s not really fair that you see me and I can’t see you. If you’re really not gonna hurt me, then why won’t you show me?”
“I’ll show you,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “If you do one thing for me.”
“What?” you asked, turning your head so that you could look at him slightly.
“Show me those pretty, perfect tits,” he said in your ear, running the knife between them again. “Outside of that baby doll.”
“And what would you do for me in return?” you asked, turning around in his grip and looking into that mask. “Let me live?”
“Maybe,” he said, looking you up and down. “But first, I’ll just show you my face if you do. Let’s start there, yeah?”
You smirked at him, lowering the thin straps of the baby doll and biting your lip. “You’re probably some total asshole under there. I mean, who calls random women at nine on a Friday night, stalks them, then breaks into their house?”
“Keep going,” he said, his eyes on your breasts. “Show me.”
“You’re a real pervert, you know that?” you said.
“And look what you’re doing,” he said smugly. “Giving into me.”
“You came here to kill me,” you said. “I know that to be true, but it seems like you changed your mind. Why?”
“Because why would I waste such a good set of tits?” he asked. “And I know that pussy of yours is also perfect.”
You swallowed, but smirked as you pulled the baby doll down. You exposed your breasts to him, and heard him suck in a breath. That wasn’t scripted; it was his genuine reaction. You bit your lip again, smiling as you stood before him. He took the knife and dragged it over one erect nipple, causing you to shiver and moan slightly. That also wasn’t scripted or an act, and you knew that whatever happened from this point onward, it was going to be genuine. Well, aside from the basic acts they wanted you to perform on each other, but the reactions? It would be all you, and him.
“Like what you see?” you asked, shaking them a bit as he groaned.
“Fuck yes,” he said, his ringed hands coming up to grope them. You moaned a little, head tipping slightly as he massaged them in his hands. “I guess I need to hold up my end of the bargain, too, huh?”
“Mmm hmm,” you said, mewling as he gave your nipples a soft pinch. “Shit…”
He stepped back, and you whined at the loss of contact. He lifted the mask with one hand, revealing his face underneath. You acted as though you were surprised to see just how sexy he really was, and his pierced tongue came out between his lips with a devils-horn gesture at the top of his head. You smiled, moving closer to him and running your hands down his chest as he looked you up and down again. Soon, he was grabbing your head forcefully, and drawing your lips to his in a passionate, hard kiss. It turned sloppy, your hands wandering and his, too, finding purchase on your hips as he squeezed. Your tongue played with his piercing, and you could feel the presence of the cameraman in front of you both as you made out. One hand tangled in his hair, the other palming the big bulge that was forming in the front of his pants. His hands came up, grabbing your breasts hard as you moaned into his mouth. He tugged your lower lip between his teeth, moving away to start kissing down your neck.
“You feel so big,” you breathed, mewling as his teeth found your sweet spot. “Fuck…”
“You have no idea,” he said, pulling your body to his before grabbing your ass. “I want you so bad.”
“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the living room. You pushed him down on the couch, straddling his lap before grinding against his dick. “You know what I want you to do?”
“What?” he panted.
“Want you to rip this thing off of me,” you said in his ear, tugging the lobe in your teeth.
“Oh?” he asked, grabbing the back of it and tearing it down the middle. “Like that?”
“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, kissing his neck as he moaned. “And I want you to put the mask back on.”
“Okay,” he said, smirking before his face disappeared beneath the Ghostface mask again.
“You know what else I want?” you asked, moaning as you continued to glide along his clothed erection.
“Hm?”
“I want that big, thick cock down my throat.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
You could hear the smirk in his voice, and it would have infuriated you under any other circumstances. Right then, though, you were too turned on to care. You moved from your spot on his lap to slide to your knees, keeping your eyes on him as you did so. You palmed the bulge in his pants again, feeling how hard he was and suppressing a moan. He watched you from beneath the mask, both of his arms stretched along the back of the couch as you pulled his pants down. His breathing picked up a bit as you put your mouth over his cock through his boxers, and soon, you were pulling those down, too. He was exposed to you now, all nine inches of his thick, pierced, flushed erection at your mercy. As per the script, you teased him a little, sucking on his piercing before swirling your tongue around his slit. He mewled, panting as you took the tip in your lips and sucked eagerly. His arms remained on the back of the couch, not moving yet as you started planting messy, noisy, open mouthed kisses all over the entire length of his cock. You moved farther down to take his big balls into your mouth as well, sucking on them with a moan as you jerked him off skillfully. He was panting a little more heavily now, and you traced his large vein with your tongue as you made your way back up his length.
“Don’t fucking tease me,” he growled.
“Sorry, uh…” you said. “I don’t know what to call you.”
“You can call me Daddy,” he said, reaching down with one hand to stroke your cheek. “And what shall I call you, huh?”
“Anything you want,” you said with a wink, spitting on his cock and jerking him off. “Such a big dick, fuck.”
“What did I say about teasing?” he asked, tilting your chin up with the knife.
“Sorry, Daddy,” you said, opening your mouth and taking his entire cock.
You gagged for a moment until you got your reflex under control, which was something you’d gotten good at in the business. You could feel him in your throat, stretching, his piercing at the back of it as you drug your head up, then back down. He was moaning above you under the mask, his head tipped back as he tangled a hand in your hair. You looked up at him, bobbing your head slowly as you gripped his base in one hand. You began to jerk him off in time with your movements, ignoring the camera man as he came around to get some close up shots. It felt as if he wasn’t even there, that’s how into it you were starting to get. You could feel your pussy throbbing, wetness settling in the thong you still wore as you sucked him off.
“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, tugging on your hair as you hollowed your cheeks. “You’re so fucking good at that. You’re a filthy little cock slut, aren’t you? I mean, who else just gets on her knees for a man she’s just met, especially one who broke into her house to hurt her?”
You responded by twisting your wrist, eyes still on him as you sucked him off messily. Drool cascaded from his dick and onto the floor below, and your throat was starting to hurt a bit from his piercing. But he was so hot, THIS was so hot, and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His hips bucked upward with a loud moan, and you choked as more of his cock went down your throat again. He stroked your cheek tenderly, before yanking you off of his dick. Spit bridged your lips to the tip, and you looked up at him in surprise. Was this scripted? You couldn’t quite remember, but either way, it sent a fresh wave of arousal to your cunt.
“Rub my dick across your tits,” he said.
“Those are one of my biggest insecurities,” you replied, but did as he asked as he moaned filthily. “But you like them, huh?”
“Fuck yes,” he panted, watching as you sucked his tip again. “You’re so hot.”
“Thanks,” you said, and you continued to alternate between rubbing his dick over your breasts and sucking him off. After a little while, he forced you to stop by grabbing your jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he growled. “Did I say I was ready to cum yet?”
“No, Daddy,” you said, reaching out to jerk him off. “But I can’t stop worshipping this huge, perfect dick of yours.”
He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the couch, causing you to whine. “Let me make you feel good.”
“You already did,” he said, grabbing your spit-soaked chin in one hand and forcing you to look up into his mask. “Now, it’s my turn.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to take him into your mouth again, but you were greeted by a light slap to your cheek. “What?”
“I said stop it,” he said, pushing you away as he got up off the couch. “Sit up here for me.”
You whined, but did as he said. You sat down on the couch, watching as he lifted the mask again. He kissed you hungrily, sloppily, one ringed hand squeezing your jaw before it found your throat. He choked you for a moment, and you moaned as his hands found your breasts. He massaged them skillfully, his rings cold against your heated skin, his fingers rubbing your nipples until they were hard buds. He pinched them, tugged on them, swiped his fingers across them, all while you moaned hotly in his mouth. He grabbed his plastic knife, running it over & between your breasts before dragging it over your waist and stomach.
“I’m going to show you just what I’m capable of,” he said, kissing down your neck after leaving a series of hickeys in his wake. He nipped at your collarbones, before he found your breasts. “You have the hottest body I’ve ever fucking seen.”
“All the other girls you broke in on weren’t as hot, huh?” you asked.
“Not even close,” he said, pulling one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking generously. “Such an amazing set of tits.”
“Fuck…” you whined, one hand in his hair as he tugged your nipple in his teeth. You knew the cameraman was probably getting a pretty good shot with that; Eddie was skilled, he knew what he was doing and how to work a woman’s body. You were reacting to him, wetness pooling in your thong, and you spread your legs for him as you grabbed one of his hands. “I want you to touch me. Please, I need it.”
“So needy, princess,” he said, giving your other nipple the same treatment as the last. He drug the knife down, running it over your cunt as he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re soaking wet for me, aren’t you? You’re such a depraved fucking slut, you know that? Putting out for me like this, soaking that pretty thong for me.”
“Touch me the right way and find out, asshole,” you challenged, and you could feel him grinning against your breast. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” he said, smiling up at you as he started to kiss his way down your stomach. They weren’t gentle, tender kisses; they were needy, hard, bruising. You knew you’d have some marks there tomorrow. “Just that you think it’s so funny and cute to be calling me names right now, when I’ve got the upper hand.”
“Who says you’ve got the upper hand?” you asked, and he slapped your thigh hard as you yelped. “You didn’t have to do that!”
“Shut up,” he snarled, kneeling in front of you and spreading your legs as wide as they would go. He peeled off your thong, and the cameraman moved behind him to get a shot of your pussy. “Fuck, look at that. So fucking pretty and so goddamn wet.”
“I can’t help it,” you said, shivering as he ran the knife over your bare cunt. “Daddy…”
“I’m going to make you fucking scream, baby,” he said, and he immediately began to devour you.
You had never been eaten out like that before, either off camera or on. The way his pierced tongue moved through your cunt, so skillful and hungry, had you moaning loudly. You usually had to fake your moans, or at the very least, over exaggerate them. Not now; right now, every single noise that fell from your lips was genuine. He was devouring you, his tongue flicking your clit with every drag upward, his hands gripping your thighs tight enough to leave more bruises. You reached down to grab his hair, and he moaned as you pulled it roughly. His piercing dragged through your saturated folds, slowly and teasingly, before he pressed it tightly against your clit. More wetness soaked his face, and his fingers soon joined the mix. The cameraman was getting some great shots, and Eddie began to fuck you roughly on his fingers while his mouth did its magic.
“Fuck, you’re so good,” you gasped, rutting against his face as you clenched around his fingers. “I need more.”
“More?” he asked, his free hand dragging the knife over your thigh. “How much more? I’m giving you all I can, you greedy whore.”
“I want more,” you insisted, your eyes nearly rolling back as he started sucking on your clit. “Please…”
“Is this what you want?” he asked, gathering some of your wetness on the fingers of his free hand and pushing a finger inside of your ass. “Huh?”
“Yes,” you gasped, looking down into his big brown eyes as he started to eat your pussy again. “Fuck, please…”
He took his fingers out of your cunt, instead focusing on your ass. He shook his head back & forth rapidly, growling, his eyes still trained on your face. You kept looking down at him, playing with your breasts as his tongue swirled your clit. You tugged your nipples, and soon he was slapping your hand away with his free one to take over. He squeezed it, massaging it, pinching the nipple as hard as he could. You cried out, and you could feel the familiar sensation in your lower stomach that indicated an orgasm was imminent. He kept going, lapping at your pussy as if his life depended on it, shaking his head occasionally, using his piercing to his advantage. He began to fuck you on his tongue as he fingered your ass, moaning as more of your taste flooded his tongue.
“So fucking good,” he mumbled, moaning as he reached down to jerk himself off. “I’m going to fucking cum just from eating your pussy.”
“I’d rather you cum inside of me,” you said. “I wanna feel that big dick in my tight, wet pussy right now. Wanna feel you pumping me full of cum, and feel how good you are inside of me. Please.”
“You’d rather cum around my dick?” he asked, raising a brow at you.
“Mmm hmm,” you said. “But you gotta put the mask back on.”
“Tired of my face already?” he teased, pulling his finger out and putting the mask back on. “Alright, have it your way. How do you want me to fuck you?”
“From behind,” you said.
“Just like a disgusting fucking whore, huh?” he asked, slapping your ass as you stood up. “I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, baby.”
“Then do it,” you said. “Stop talking about it and just do it already, asshole.”
He slapped your ass hard, leaving a large red handprint in his wake. You yelped but giggled, wiggling your ass toward him as he spanked it again. He held the knife to your throat, pulling you up by your head as his mouth found your ear. You could feel his giant cock throbbing against your ass, and knew he was close already. But if everything you heard about his reputation was true, you knew that didn’t mean anything. He could apparently hold off for quite awhile, even that close, and you were looking forward to having him inside of you. In fact, you needed it more than you ever needed anything. You were tired of doing films with men who had average or below average dicks; they didn’t do anything for you, and you always had to fake it. But with Eddie? You highly doubted you would have that problem.
“Keep calling me that and I’ll slit your fucking throat,” he said in your ear, pressing the hard plastic a little more firmly to your throat. “You’re in no position right now to be a fucking bitch.”
“I think I am,” you said, grinning smugly at him as you pushed back against his cock. “You’ve got me right where you want me, right? So, instead of making empty threats and being a douchebag, why don’t you just fuck me?”
He slapped your ass hard again, dragging the knife across your throat ever so gently. “You’re fucking lucky I think you’re so hot. Otherwise, I would be ending this right fucking now by cutting you wide open.”
“Fuck me already!” you said. “You’re–”
You were cut off by a loud moan as you felt him pushing inside of you. You cried out as his thick length stretched your pussy, and you could feel his piercing deep inside. He held onto your hips to anchor himself, bending you over the couch as he pushed himself deeper. You nearly screamed as you felt that piercing on your cervix, but it hurt so good. You reached down and squeezed his hand, and you could tell that he was trying hard not to break character to hold your hand. He had to know how it felt, and you could tell that he was holding back, even still. The director seemed not to notice, though; he just instructed his cameraman to get a shot of his cock buried deep inside of your pussy. He was almost fully inside, and it took you a minute to adjust to how it felt. Never had you been this full, never had anything felt so good, and you weren’t sure how long YOU would be able to last. He was moaning behind you, and you felt his dick twitch. That caused you to moan filthily, and you looked behind your shoulder into his masked face, a smirk on your own.
“What are you waiting for, Daddy?” you asked, biting your lip. “Fuck me.”
He started to thrust, keeping them slow and shallow at first. The cameraman looked up questioningly, and the director simply shrugged and instructed him to keep filming. You moaned, feeling that piercing against your cervix again with every movement inward. He kept hold of your hips, and soon, he was fucking you a little harder. You knew that he was making sure you were okay first, something that he seemingly didn’t do with any of his other costars. Maybe he found a soft spot for you, or maybe the rest of them were used to taking dicks his size. Either way, you thought the gesture of going off script was rather touching, and you looked back at him with a smile. You couldn’t tell if he was reciprocating, but the sharp thrust inside of you somehow told you that he was.
“You’re so fucking tight and wet,” he said, starting to absolutely DRILL you as you nearly screamed. “Listen to that, can you hear it?”
You could. As he fucked into you harder, you could hear just how wet you truly were for him. His fingers dug into your skin, his breath in your ear, and you just moaned as you clenched hard around him. That caused him to groan, and you smirked as you did it again. This brought another loud crack to your ass, and you yelped as the knife made another appearance at your throat.
“Stop doing that,” he growled. “You needy bitch.”
“Sorry,” you said, but did it again.
He stopped thrusting, putting the knife down to grab your throat with his hands. He choked you for a moment, chuckling darkly as you kept clenching around him. He began to move again but kept his grip, letting go only when you started clawing at his hands. He reached around to grope your breasts, rubbing the nipples as he absolutely pounded you against the couch. He was panting and groaning, the sounds filling the air as the cameraman got another shot of him fucking into you. You could feel your lower stomach tightening, but you weren’t ready for this to be over yet. Fuck, he felt so goddamn good; you never wanted it to end. You would have been content going on forever just like this, with him inside of you as you whined desperately. He knew you were getting desperate, too; he reached down, rubbing your clit in hard, fast circles as you cried out. You clenched again, his hands now on your shoulders as you braced against the couch. He drilled your needy, soaking cunt, each bump to your cervix causing you to moan even louder.
“Cum for me,” he said. “Show me just how much you fucking love what I’m doing to you. Show me what a greedy whore you are for my cock.”
You moaned, and were shocked to see that he was pulling out of you. The director was about to intervene, but Eddie was pushing you onto your back on the couch. He lifted your legs to his shoulders and pushed inside of you again, causing you to moan hotly as he filled you up again. The director stopped and instructed the cameraman to keep going, and you looked up into his masked face with a look of pleasure on yours. You arched under him, writhing, your hands finding his clothed back and digging your nails into the fabric. He pounded you hard, the new angle causing him to hit into your sweet spot. He didn’t use his entire cock this time; instead, he decided to get creative, and fucked directly into your G-spot. The feel of the piercing against it was so fucking good, and you tore at his dark shirt as he pounded against you.
“That’s it,” he cooed, the strokes of his cock remaining shallow and deep as your mouth fell slack. “Cum around my cock, princess.”
“Fuck,” you whined, your jaw still open as your head tipped back. “I’m gonna cum so hard, Daddy.”
“Cum for me,” he coaxed, his fingers rubbing hard circles on your clit again. “Do it for me. Show me how desperate you are to let some stranger fuck you like this.”
Tears began to leak out of your eyes. They weren’t bad; it was just so much, so overwhelming. You could tell that he was having doubts, so you sat up slightly to bury your face in his neck. He groaned, thrusting harder before pushing you back down. He pinned you to the couch, both of his large hands holding you down as he mercilessly pounded you. More tears leaked from your eyes, and he laughed wickedly under the mask.
“What’s wrong?” he taunted. “Is my dick too big for you, you disgusting slut? Can’t take it all?”
“No, i can,” you said, trying to get out of his grip.
“Then take it and cum for me,” he coaxed, fucking you as hard as he could. “Go ahead, show me you can do it.”
It didn’t take much more for you to cum. A few more strokes of his cock, a few more swipes with his fingers, and that was it. You screamed in pleasure, and none of that was exaggerated or fake, either. You squirted around him twice, and the director was staring in awe as the cameraman caught everything. You kept arching, moaning, bucking up against him as he continued to pound into you. He was panting above you under the mask, moaning as you felt him twitch inside of you. He was fighting hard to keep going, but you knew he was going to lose that fight very soon. You reached down and took his knife, holding it up with a smirk.
“You wanna hold this to my throat again?” you asked. “Maybe that would get you off.”
He took it and did just that, holding it on your throat as he pounded you. You moaned, clenching around him, bucking your hips up against his thrusts to aid him. He looked down at your breasts, then back to where the knife was held to your throat, and you felt him twitch twice. You knew it was coming and, sure enough, it did a moment later. He came hard inside of you, moaning through it, his head bowed as he allowed his orgasm to take him over. He continued to thrust until it was done, stopping and nearly collapsing on top of you before pulling out. But he wasn’t finished, and you already knew what was coming because of the script. He pulled you to a sitting position and opened your legs, eyeing your dripping cunt as he rubbed the knife between both of his hands.
“Look at that,” he said, running his fingers through your sensitive pussy before he knelt in front of you. “I made such a mess of you, didn’t I?”
“Mmm hmm,” you said, moaning as he lifted his mask. “What are you gonna do about it?”
“I think you know,” he said, dragging the knife over your thigh again before he started eating you out once more. “I’m nowhere close to being fucking done with you, you fucking slut. If you think that I am, then you’d better think again.”
“So much for scary movies, huh?” you asked, moaning as he began to devour your pussy even more desperately.
“I think this is much better,” he said, eating you out more feverishly. “You know what we should try? You know, since you’re such a filthy girl.”
“What?” you asked, moaning as he fucked you on his tongue.
“Giving it to you up the ass,” he said. “I think that would be fun, don’t you agree?”
“And cut!” the director called.
You whined as Eddie broke away from you, standing up as he helped you. The director was coming onto the set to talk to the cameraman, both of them seemingly pleased with what they’d gotten. Eddie sat the mask and the knife down on the couch, grabbing a water as someone on set offered one. He handed it to you, and you accepted it with a big smile. You took a drink, and Eddie’s hand was on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. He pulled his pants back up and gestured for someone to bring over your clothes. You slipped them on once they did, and Eddie wrapped your jacket around your shoulders for you with a smile.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I? I tried to be as careful–”
“No, I’m okay,” you assured him. “Really. I just wasn’t used to someone that big.”
“A lot of the women aren’t,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I always ask them to let me go in slow and careful, but they never really let me. I guess they don’t want to shatter the illusion. It’s just…you were crying, and i was so scared that i was hurting you.”
“Well, I can promise you that I’m totally fine,” you said, taking another sip of the water. “Do you think we did well enough for them?”
“Oh, I think we did,” he said with a chuckle.
“Something tells me they’ll be asking us to do another one together very soon,” you said.
“In that case,” he said, smiling as he leaned closer to you and offered an arm. “How about I buy you dinner? I know I’ve worked up a hell of an appetite tonight.”
You grinned, taking his arm with a nod. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”
____________
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crystal clear
Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
WC: 14k (i am so sorry)
Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.
This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!
CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!
A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.
“Is it weird yet?”
The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.
You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.
“Isn’t this kinda weird?”
The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?
Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.
“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”
“So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”
You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.
Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.
You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.
“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”
Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.
He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.
“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”
“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”
Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.
“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.
“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”
Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”
You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”
He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”
“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Immediately?”
“Immediately. I swear.”
You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about.
He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”
“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.”
“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”
You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”
Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”
“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”
With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”
You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”
“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”
Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself. “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”
Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”
Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.
Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?
“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”
“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”
“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.
Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.
“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.
You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.
“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”
You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.
“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.
“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”
When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”
“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”
“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”
“I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.
“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”
Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.
You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”
“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”
Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.
···························
A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.
In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests.
What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.
Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.
All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.
“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”
You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.
“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears.
Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”
His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”
“What are you talking about?”
“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”
Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?”
You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”
Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”
So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes.
“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”
You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”
Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.
Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.
“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”
“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.
Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.
Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.
One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—
“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”
You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”
He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”
“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.
“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”
The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.
You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.
When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.
He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.
Steve just fucking shrugs.
“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.
You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”
As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”
“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”
“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”
You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.
“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”
Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.
“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”
You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”
“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”
You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.
“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”
“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.
“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”
That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.
“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”
He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.
”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.
What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?
There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.
Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”
Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
“You can look, y’know.”
Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—
Wait.
You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.
You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”
Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.
“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.
“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”
“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”
Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.
“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.
He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.
“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.
Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.
“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”
Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.
You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?
Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”
Apparently, you think out loud now.
“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.
Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”
You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”
He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.
Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?
“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter.
“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”
“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.
“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”
So much for that.
It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”
You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”
His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—”
“That’s a compliment, I promise!”
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him.
“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break.
“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.
Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.
Two can play that game.
You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.
“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”
In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes.
You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls.
As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”
Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”
His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.
While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole.
He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.
You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.
“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.
Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”
With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.
You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.
···························
The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.
In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.
Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”
You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.
The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.
“Stevie…”
“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”
You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”
“More,” is all you can rasp out.
“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.
“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you.
“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.
“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.
His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.”
It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly.
Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”
As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.
···························
In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.
“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”
“So… put new batteries in?”
“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”
You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.
“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.
“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.
“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”
Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”
Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.
Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”
“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”
When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.
You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”
“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle.
“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”
“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout.
You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”
Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.
With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship.
Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.
You’re just friends.
“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.
Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.
“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”
“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”
“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”
“You’re the worst.”
“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”
He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.
“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”
You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.
“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”
“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”
“I’m already touching you.”
“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.
Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.
“Okay, so what do you mean?”
Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.
“I didn’t say— ”
“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”
Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.
His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.
“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.
“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.
You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.
“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”
You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.
But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.
Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”
You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.
“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”
Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated.
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is.
“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you.
What the fuck is he hiding?
“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.
“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”
You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”
One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.
“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”
Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.
This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.
In fact, you might like this the most.
“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before.
“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.
“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.
“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.
It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.
Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”
You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.
“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”
It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.
“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”
Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.
By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.
···························
“Why am I taking the backroads again?”
“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”
Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks.
“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”
You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”
“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”
“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”
“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”
“I do!”
You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.
“H- hey!”
You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”
“This- it’s just— unsafe.”
“Is that your only complaint?”
“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.
Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.
With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”
“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”
“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.
Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.
“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”
Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.
“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”
“Uh-huh…”
“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”
Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.
···························
It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:
This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.
Steve’s kissing someone else right now.
While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.
If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.
Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.
It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—
Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.
So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.
The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.
Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.
Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street.
Harder to shake than a cold.
Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”
“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”
Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”
“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.
“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”
“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”
Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated.
“Fuck you, Steve.”
He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body.
“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again.
Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.
Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.
“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.
An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.
“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”
“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”
Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.
“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.
Oh, god fucking dam—
“….. No?”
“You literally just said you got jealous.”
“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”
“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”
You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Should I just call you a brat instead?”
“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”
His face falls. “Why not?”
You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.
“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”
Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.
“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“
“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”
So much for your petty silence.
“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”
Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way.
“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”
You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs.
···························
Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.
He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.
When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.
Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.
You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.
Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep.
Or so he thought.
As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.
“Stay?”
Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.
He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”
“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”
Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.
He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.
Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.
Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.
····································
When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache.
“Fucking christ.”
You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.
Wait. Why am I here?
You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.
Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.
It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note.
hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover.
if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.
— steve ♡
While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.
We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.
It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?
Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.
Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.
“Family Vi— ”
“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”
“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.
“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”
She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”
“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.
“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”
“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”
“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”
“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”
“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”
It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”
“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”
“I— ”
“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”
Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”
“Thirty seconds!”
“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.
“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”
You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.
Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.
Totally fine.
········································································
It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?
You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.
Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.
It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.
The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.
Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”
Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.
“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”
“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.
You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”
“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”
You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”
His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”
“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.
“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.”
“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”
Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”
You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”
“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”
“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”
He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back.
“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”
“Wait, what? Steve—”
“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”
“Okay, but— ”
“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”
Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.
“Stevie, listen—”
“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”
If only he’d shut the fuck up.
He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”
You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”
“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”
“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.”
You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.
Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”
He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”
“You mean vibrator incident—”
“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”
“My head is not big!”
You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”
“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.
Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”
You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.
“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”
You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”
Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.
“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.
“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”
You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”
Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.
“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”
“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.
“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.
“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”
Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”
He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.
“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this.
“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs.
“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”
You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”
Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.
“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”
You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”
“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”
A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”
“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?” A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”
“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”
Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.
He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.
Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.
Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.
“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”
You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”
“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”
There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”
“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”
You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”
“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.
His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.
It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself.
Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”
“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”
A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.
“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”
Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.
Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.
Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.
You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.
He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”
“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.
“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.
“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.
“I love you, too.”
The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.
With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.
It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.
At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you.
“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”
You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.
Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.
No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.
“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.
“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.
Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”
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