It’s been three weeks of dating Steve, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to this. Especially what pokes the small of your back, or the way it stretches you out in a way you didn’t think was possible. Your hips shift on their own, letting the hard length of fit between the apple of your ass only covered by a thin pair of cotton panties.

The immediate flutter in your stomach at the feeling of him so close has your teeth digging into the fat of your bottom lip. Wiggling your hips again, he slides between your thighs, the tip of him tapping against your already swollen clit. A quiet moan slips from between your lips at the feeling, your body begging for more.

Steve’s grip on you tightens, his breathing coming out quick and sporadic. The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft fat of your sides, grunting as he meets the next roll of your hips.

“Honey.” He murmurs, voice still thick with sleep, nudging the back of your ear with the tip of his nose.

“Good morning.” You whisper with a hidden smile, spreading your legs a little more, whimpering when his already leaking tip pushes your panties to the side for a fleeting moment.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of his mouth in a hiss, his hips searching for that angle again.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing this early, tough girl? hmm?” He chides, gripping your curves holding you in place, doing it with more force this time.

His name slips breathy from your lips, your leg hitching over his hip, giving him full access to you.

“So needy already.” He murmurs a little cocky in your ear, using the length of himself to push your panties to the side, groaning at what he finds. “So wet.”

“Want you.” Pushing your hips back with a whine, you relish in the way the tip of his cock starts to split you open.

“Always want you, baby.” He hums, reaching up to cup your breast in the palm of his hand, fitting himself half way in.

Your walls are greedy, sucking him in the rest of the way, and with a slow grind of your hips, he bottoms out. A string of curse words are whispered along the curve of your neck, followed by a sharp nip of his teeth.

“Oh my god.” Tilting your head back in a loud moan, he takes full advantage of the newly exposed skin.

His fingers pinch at your sensitive nipples standing at attention for him. Littering open mouthed kisses up to the soft spot behind your ear, he sucks hard enough for you to shiver. Steve sets a slow pace, pulling himself almost all the way out letting you feel every inch and ridge of him before snapping his hips, burying himself to the hilt.

The sound of his name, followed by short gasps every time he pushes the air out of your lungs fills the empty space of your apartment. He feels bigger in the morning, the stretch of him rolling your eyes in the back of your head with every thrust. The blunt ends of your fingernails dig into the tanned freckled skin of his forearm, finding the strength to meet the quick roll of his hips.

It should feel impossible to want more, but it’s all your body screams for. As if he can read your mind, his long lingers find their way to your clit begging for his attention. Using the pad of two fingers, he rubs quick circles on the bundle of nerves, earning such a loud moan of his name he thinks your neighbors heard. So he keeps it up, needing them to know who’s making you feel this good.

“Gonna cum for me, tough girl? Gonna give me what I want?” He whispers against your ear before taking the lobe of it in the heat of his mouth.

Jaw going slack, all you can do it nod, the tightening flutter of your walls telling him you’re close.

“I can feel it, you’re gonna make me cum too. Want that?” He adds a third finger to your pulsing clit, hips setting a punishing pace.

“Steve — god — I want it.” You whimper, trying to chase the high that’s on the cusp of breaking you into a million pieces.

“Where? Where do you want it, honey?” he grunts, his body surrounding you, losing himself in the feeling of your silk.

“I-inside.”

His hips stutter at your words, a deep growl rumbling from his chest sending another wave of arousal coating him. You’d be embarrassed at the sounds of just how wet you are if he wasn’t claiming you like a man possessed.

“I’m gonna —“ the second half of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue for a moment when he keeps himself deep, grinding on that spot only he can find. “Steve, I'm — I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it with me.” He moans, twitching inside of you, letting you know he’s just as close.

All you can manage is a nod, pressing your ass as tight against him as possible, pushing him impossibly deeper, snapping that tight rope in your gut sending you tumbling over the edge.

“That’s it baby, you’re so good, so good for me.” He says the last part through gritted teeth.

A guttural moan rips from his throat spilling himself inside of you, filling you to the brim. He keeps pumping his hips like he’s trying to make sure none of it escapes moaning ‘mine’ over again turning possessive.

He doesn’t stop, until he physically has nothing left to give, wrapping your limp body in his arms, slipping out of your walls that beg him to stay. The two of you lay there trying to catch your breath, a small giggle escaping from between your lips.

“What?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Good morning.” You smile snuggling yourself deeper into his chest, basking in the feeling of him dripping out of you and onto the sheets.

You had been walking around for god knows how long, in search of a gate to go the fuck home. Robin, Eddie, and Nancy made it through the one at Eddie’s trailer, but, just your luck, it closed before you or Steve could make it to the other side.

Ready to collapse against a rotting tree, with vines twisting around its crumbling trunk, Steve jerks you away, keeping himself calm and only releasing a harsh exhale through his nose.

“I told you about those vines,” He hisses, grip tightening with the irritation in his words. “For once, just once, would you listen to me?”

When your eyes won’t meet his, guilt washes over him.

“Look, I—“ He can’t bring himself to apologize. What the hell am I sorry for? “Just… stick close to me, alright?”

Yeah, there’s definitely a ton of hopelessness drowning you from the inside out right now. You hug yourself weakly, shaking your head.

“We’re never gonna find a gate, we’re gonna die out here.”

This— the Upside Down and all its horrors, wrapped up in a little, filthy, decaying bow— isn’t new to Steve. To you, though, this is a brand new, shiny, living nightmare.

“And we’ll fucking die out here if we don’t try.” He’s losing his patience, despite reminding himself this all freaked him the fuck out years ago when he first was roped into it all. He’s trying, really, he is, but the constant cloud you drag over your head is swallowing any hope into darkness. “I need you to get your shit together, and be quiet.”

Steve knows it’s not your fault; you were kept in the dark up until tonight. 

After graduation, you isolated yourself, and no one could figure why. What happened? What could’ve set it off? You were rarely seen outside of your home, unless at work, running for necessities, or finding comfort in your local video store. It helped to play movies on in the background, helped drown out the deafening silence of your lifeless home.

Visiting Family Video often had pipelined to a rekindled connection with Steve; once your childhood friend, even a silly crush you hadn’t moved on from— before the facade of popularity ran straight to his head— now just a stranger who fell from grace. Trusting him again hadn’t been easy, but watching how easily his and Robin’s friendship flowed gave you some peace of mind.

It wasn’t until the day Dustin and Max ran in, desperate to find Eddie’s whereabouts as you browsed the new releases, that you got sucked into this entire mess. It wasn’t until then, that the side you were convinced Steve had grown out of began to show again.

Following carefully behind him, he spits, “You should’ve stayed the fuck home.”

And yeah, maybe you should’ve, but in the whirlwind of it all, you were caught up every bizarre moment with everyone, no end or exit in sight.

You keep quiet, hoping if you let him vent, he’ll eventually cool off.

Naturally, he doesn’t.

“This would’ve been avoided if you stayed on shore with the kids.”

Steve can’t see it, but you nod silently behind him, tiptoeing around the vines.

“Nobody asked you to get in the boat.”

“Well, no, but I—“

“No one said you had to swim to the bottom of the lake, too.”

You can clearly hear the way he grits his teeth as he speaks. Your throat burns as you swallow the temptation to give into crying.

“I was scared, you all left, I- I didn’t know what to do—“

“Oh, like none of us are scared? Grow the fuck up.”

With each word he hurls your way, dripping with vitriol, he can feel the regret only grow bigger, and bigger. Yet he can’t stop.

“You’ve been through this before!”

Steve stops abruptly, scoffing as he turns around with his arms crossed over his chest. He glares at you, watching his step before meeting you, toe to toe, way too close for your comfort. 

“Yeah, without a crybaby like you.”

“Oh, crybaby, really, Steve? Really? Is that the best you can come up with?” You roll your eyes; you have to, or you’ll start crying, proving him right. “How about you try growing the fuck up for once?”

“The best I can come up with would drive you away again.” He shakes his head. “And I’m really not trying to hurt you.”

“How thoughtful of you, asshole.”

Steve runs a hand down his mouth, glancing away from you to sigh.

“Maybe fixing our friendship was a mistake.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes searching his for any sort of bluff. “You… you don’t mean that.”

He doesn’t answer you, only staring back as your bottom lip trembles.

There’s no use trying to hide your tears. Why did you have to be an angry crier? Why couldn’t you shout back, or give a cold shoulder, anything else, when you’re rightfully pissed off? On top of that, all you want to do is get far away from here, far away from Steve.

“Great.” He scoffs, watching your face twist into distress and rage. “Just great. Here we go with the—“

Shoving Steve away, you run off in the opposite direction, no care for where you’ll end up. Splitting up is a death wish, but you’d rather take your chances facing an imminent end than be berated by Steve.

Time is completely lost on Steve as he pedals through the decrepit mirror of Hawkins in search of you.

“Fuck, shit—“ He’s worn down, energy nearly nonexistent after swimming down to the gate in Lovers’ Lake, battling off the demobats to survive, and now, this.

You’re nowhere to be found, and guilt is eating Steve alive; if a monster doesn’t tear him to shreds, the regret of letting you go will. He’s checked every possible hiding place that crossed his mind, but not a trace of you can be found.

This could’ve been avoided if Steve kept his cool, didn’t lash out at the last person to deserve such jagged words thrown at them. He knows that. He knew it as you shoved him away. Worst of all, he let his pride take the wheel and watch you run off, then turned away to continue through the woods alone.

That only lasted a few minutes until remorse and common sense took over, shaking him by the shoulders to get a fucking grip. He had to find you, alive, and get you home safely. There were no other options or plans; this was a rescue mission, not one of recovery.

If it wasn’t so dangerous, Steve would be shouting your name, but he can’t risk attracting unwanted attention to either of you.

What the fuck do I do?

Rattling him from his thoughts, the bike’s front tire rolls over something in the road, catching his eye; he squeezes the hand brakes roughly, skidding along gravel, rolling to a stop. Throwing the bike to the side, he rushes over to an object in the road—

It’s your shirt, torn to shreds and left behind.

Bile rises in Steve’s throat, yet as he notices there’s no blood, the panic-induced nausea is suppressed. 

Think, think, think— where the fuck would they be?

A scream pierces the unsettling silence hanging over him, violently grabbing his attention; his stomach drops as he recognizes his surroundings. An ominous, familiar shell of a building he knows once held hell itself in— at least, in his dimension, not here. 

Now, though, the sounds of torment and a contrast of shimmering lights, pouring out of the windows, are enough to come off as a candy-coated nightmare.

Glittering out of the building are specks of rose-gold light, almost eerily similar to the ones you all found in Nancy’s room, communicating with the others through the Lite Brite. Some speckle across his skin, lightly tickling him.

 It’s the first thing to really draw Steve in as they swirl around him. The second thing: your screams pouring out of the broken windows.

“Shit.”

The remnants of your shirt slip from Steve’s fingers as he takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what’s to come as he dashes towards Hawkins Laboratory.

It doesn’t take long to find you. Following the sounds of terror and shimmering lights, Steve stumbles upon you in a mostly empty exam room. Save for the stainless steel exam table, vacant, open cabinets, and slithering vines, of course. 

They’re slipping in from the outside, through cracks in the walls and missing tiles from the floor. An unknown blooming plant, mimicking the petals of a demogorgon, is rooted in the middle of the room, illuminated. A rose-gold glow pulsates around it, petals slowly unfurling, and waving back inward. It almost looks like it’s breathing.

It is breathing.

Steve scans the room, finding you in the waves of glittering light, breaking through the shadows. You’re pinned against the wall, in a barely conscious daze as the vines wind themselves around your wrists and ankles. Missing most of your clothing, you’re left in what’s remaining of your underwear; he does his best to shy away from ogling at your bare chest. 

Worst fucking time for that.

 Frozen in fear, he witnesses another vine unravel from the ceiling, caressing your face before circling your neck. One step in the door, he stops as you whimper, arching your back off the wall as the vine tightens its grip everywhere, including around your throat. Yet another slithers up to you, teasing its way to your core. It flicks itself softly along the apex of your thighs, drawing out from you a pathetic, shaky moan.

Too tight. Steve’s pants are too fucking tight, and this is not the time or place to become aroused like some kind of pervert.

Focus. You need to get them out of here, safely, and for good.

He runs across the room, barely passing the shimmering plant before a saccharine aroma slams into him.  Entranced, he stops for a moment to stare at the bizarre bloom, and that’s his first mistake; a vine whips around from behind, hooking him in by his waist.

It’s not until another vine winds around one wrist, then another, that he realizes he’s in peril. Yet, he’s slow to react; by now, he’d be kicking and screaming, but his legs have been restrained, too. He’s calm, too calm for what’s unfolding.

“Shit—“ He writhes in the grasp of the vines, but they keep a steady hold, a nonverbal promise they’ll never let go. 

A needy noise slips out of you, but it’s muffled quickly; Steve jerks his head up, observing in horror the vine that has snuck past your pretty, pliant lips. Groaning around the appendage, your eyes roll back as it sinks deeper toward your throat.

“H- hey, this is—“ Steve has to put all of his energy into breaking from a daze his mind so badly aches to fall into. “Hey! Stop!”

Who he’s yelling to, he’s unsure, but it’s a fruitless attempt to take the vines’ attention away from you; there’s just far too many, more than enough to hold the both of you captive with ease.

Concern slowly falls away, hypnotized by the way you’re sucking and gagging on one of the vines. Something about the scene before him is arousing, and before shame can take over, slap some sense into him, pins and needles take over his entire being. It’s an intense, tingling sensation, riding high under his skin and through his veins. The longer he fixates on the way you’re being used, the more he begins to burn everywhere.

Steve’s only uncomfortable at first, just enough where he can still tolerate it. The warmth building within him begins to radiate through his skin, starts to make him sweat.

When the vines drag you closer to him, leaving the two of you suspended by their hold off of the floor, the heat heightens. He becomes feverish, burning becoming more and more unbearable as the seconds pass.

Eyes parting open, you whine in desperation at the sight of him; you need his help, and that’s enough to just barely break through the trance again. The vine in your mouth retreats completely, leaving you panting and drooling down your chest.

“Steve?” Unaware your vision was blurred before it begins to refocus, taking in the sight of Steve struggling against his own set of vines holding him hostage. Your mind fights to break through the haze that’s comfortably settled over any other thoughts or feelings, but it’s no use.

 All you want— no, need— is him.

“It hurts, Steve,” You don’t have the chance to elaborate before the vines tormenting him are ripping the majority of his clothes off, too. 

There wasn’t much to begin with, besides his pants and Eddie’s vest, but now the prominent outline of his bulge is clear as day before you. His shallow breaths quicken in a panic, head jerking around to watch more vines gang up on him.

“H- help,” You rasp out as a vine glides against your still-clothed cunt. Grinding down on it, you find some relief, but nowhere near enough to take the pain away. Everything has been burning since you’ve been trapped, to the point where the pain is so sharp, it starts to feel ice cold all over.

“I’m— I- I’m trying,” He sounds so exasperated, wrestling against the lengths that keep him stationary. “What hurts? M’gonna g- get us out of here, okay? Just—“ A flash of searing pain rolls through him, and he cries out.

You should be scared. Honestly, you are scared. That doesn’t put your filthy thoughts on hold, though. Another vine spirals up Steve’s leg, tearing his briefs off and springing his cock free. He groans at the relief as it slaps against his lower tummy, pearlescent pre dripping down his length as it kicks. Your next thought, a poorly timed fantasy, barely registers when you’re watching it play out in real life.

Head lolling back with a guttural groan, the vine slithers flush against his shaft, slowly rutting against it. He can’t resist meeting its thrusts for extra euphoria, practically frotting with it. When his head falls forward, staring down with lust-heavy lids, he whines, shudders, and a sob follows. He looks so pained, so desperate, enveloped in nothing but sinful desires.

Licking his lips, Steve’s gaze is back on you, on your chest, specifically. A vine, the slimiest one you’ve encountered yet, toys with your nipples, leaving them peaked, aching, and soaked with whatever filthy, syrupy substance these creepers are drenched in. 

His pupils darken over the view, and through the thick fog of lust, something hits you.

“Steve… what are you thinking about? R- right now— ah!” One opens wide at its end, mimicking the pulsating flower nearby; it attaches itself to your nipple, suckling softly. The other side is latched onto by another crawling appendage, mirroring the first.

Where there should be shame and guilt, both are replaced by greedy lust, so he answers honestly.

“M’thinkin’…” He shudders as another vine wraps around the one moving in time with his cock, almost guiding the two in identical thrusts. “Wanna taste ‘em. Tease ‘em all night.”

You gasp at how forward he is, “F- fuckin’— I- I—“ There’s a flicking motion rolling against both nipples, like the vines have goddamn tongues now.

This is all beginning to feel like the plot of a very terrible porno.

To test your theory once more, you imagine one of the inhuman lengths opening its end, like the ones currently latched to you, sucking on his cock’s neglected head.

And it does.

Grunting, Steve’s jaw drops, helplessly watching the third vine suckle on his throbbing tip.

“I- I think this— we— somehow our thoughts—“ It’s way too fucking hard to focus with how sinfully good these vines feel against you, just barely easing the pain. “They k- know what we’re thinking and acting on our d— fuck— d- desires.”

Steve’s face is flushed crimson, eyes heavy with lust and exhaustion as he glances up at you.

“Huh?” It takes a minute for him to process your revelation, smirking when it clicks for him. “Like…. this?”

Your underwear are ripped away without Steve even touching you. The invasive creature teases along your folds, flicking ever so softly against your clit. Hips jerking forward, you manage to narrow your stare at him.

“Y- yeah, like that, but that— we— maybe if we think about stopping, it’ll let us go.”

Another beat of silence floats heavily between the two of you, until he breaks it.

“Wh— maybe I don’t wanna st- s- stop.”

This shouldn’t turn either of you on. At all. This is wrong. This is beyond fucked.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, honey.”

Your stomach flips, and you’re a goner, admiring the way Steve bites his lip harshly while rubbing against  a vine.

“St— f- fuck!” A tiny, nearly shoelace-thin sized vine opens wide before latching onto your clit, suckling away. “Oh, f- fuck you, Steve.”

“M’trying to get there.” The sinful scene of several vines manipulating your body deep into pleasure is almost enough to make him come. You tremble in their relentless grip, whimpering as you try squirming away from the one on your clit. “S’okay, just let go. I’ve got you.”

“You don’t have me, the fuckin’ vines do!” 

“Same thing! Didn’t think o— ah— ah!” Another length slithers up to tease his balls, while the others still keep their steady pace frotting and sucking. “Fu- fuck you!”

In a nasally, whiny voice, you mock him, “I’m trying to get there.”

“Okay, ye- yeah, real mature,” In retaliation, he imagines a vine occupying your mouth again, and it does within seconds. Sliding between your lips like before, your eyes roll back, groaning around the appendage. “Much better. You always talk so fuckin’ much.”

Climax hitting like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under, far from sanity, you feel full. Nothing is inside you, not even a vine, but you feel like you’re filled to the brim.

And Steve, a strong, fluttering grip wraps around his cock; though invisible, it feels like he’s coming while deep inside of you— not that he’d know, not yet, at least. It’s a tighter hold than the vine wrapped around his length, and it makes no goddamn sense.

This entire place has never made sense, though, why attempt to figure it out now?

From between your swollen lips, the vine retreats, leaving you to pant and drool onto yourself all over again. If the winding, hellish plants weren’t holding you in place, you’d have surely fallen over by now.  Fighting to stay conscious, you fixate on Steve as he catches his breath; lids heavy, shoulders heaving as he slows his panting, it’s an eerily similar sight to his state earlier, after killing a demobat with his bare hands.

This time, though, he’s still restrained by some unworldly creature, allowing his body to fall limp in its hold.

This time, it’s not blood dripping from his lips— thank fuck— just a lot of spit. Like, a lot. It tumbles from his pretty, pliant lips with ease, glistening as it runs down his chest, sticking to the soft yet thick hair on his body.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ— you can’t take this anymore.

“Did that— are you— did it help?” You manage to croak out. Steve barely shakes his head, whining; you’re not sure why you’re the one more in tune with the situation than he is, but you’re not going to let either of you suffer any longer. “Didn’t help me either, it— fu- fuck, it felt good, but it’s— I still— it still hurts so bad, Steve.”

Lifting his head weakly, he glances over at you, only feet away, “Hurts me too, s’hot, every— it burns—“ Steve winces, hisses as the fire within him continues to burn white-hot. “S’cold, too, I- I don’t fucking get it.”

“Can I try something? I don’t… M’not sure how else to stop this,” You murmur, feeling hopeless.

If only you hadn’t run off, just like the crybaby Steve pinned you to be. Neither of you would be in such a disgusting disaster like this.

“An- anything, please,” Steve’s desperate; he’ll take any relief at this point. He lolls his head towards the suspicious bloom, hypnotized by it’s captivating glow. “M- maybe we should touch it—“

“Steve, don’t.”

His lips curl downward into a nearly comical pout, but this entire situation, no matter how bizarre and outlandish, is very real, and the pain you’re both tempted to succumb to isn’t something to laugh off.

Struggling against the vines, he tries to reach towards the plant, but it’s useless. Your thoughts and desires are still connected somehow to the vines, and he’s too drunk on pleasure to use this detail to his advantage; it’s simple, to imagine him restrained tightly by the vines, only for them to hold him still as he writhes in their grip.

“Please?” He’s so deliciously pathetic like this, exposed and bound by monstrous entities. “I- I need— this— you—“ He stops himself, eyes glazing over as he pleads with his stare for some kind of relief.

You shouldn’t take advantage of this, you really shouldn’t, but there were two factors adding to your inner conflict—

1: You’re also suffering, desperate for relief of some kind, any kind. You’re just handling it with more… grace, for lack of a better term, than he is. 

2: Steve Harrington is the reason you’re both in this mess to begin with. And, sure, you’re just at fault, but  that fucker made you feel low enough to run off into danger.

He owes you something. He owes you an apology, at the very fucking least.

“B- baby? C’mon, I— please?” The longer he radiates such a pathetic, needy energy, the more you feel sorry for him. 

Realistically, you also owe Steve an apology, at the very fucking least.

Breathily, you bargain with him, “I can— I’ll help you f’you help me?”

Ogling at the arousal dripping down your thighs, he doesn’t respond at first.

“Steve.”

“H- huh?” You’ve lost count over how many times he’s licked his lips over the sight of you. “Oh, shit, sh— yeah, uh-huh, anything, I- I’ll— I fucked up, baby—“

Your mind would be spinning alone from the way he calls you ‘baby’, if it weren’t for the fact that moments before this, the two of you quite literally mind fucked one another using the vines.

Trying to imagine the vines releasing the two of you, it’s the only desire that doesn’t come to life. 

Shit.

You think about the vines bringing the two of you together, bodies nearly touching, and in an instant, they grant that wish. He’s dying to look at you, but he’s caught up in the sight of your chest against his; both of you still panting, bodies melding into one another as they concave and convex in perfect harmony.

“So… so fuckin’ pretty—“

“Steve, they won’t let us go, we— we’re gonna have to work ‘round that, okay?”

Finally, Steve lifts his head, gasping softly when he realizes how close your faces are to one another.

“Fuck,” He breathes, blissed-out gaze falling to your lips.

You can’t help mirroring him. “Yeah, fuck.” 

A vine winds around your waist, securing you flush against Steve as it pulls him in, too. He shudders against you, painfully hard and hot-to-the-touch member sliding between your legs, along your folds. When it grazes your clit, equally aching and searing with an unbearable heat, the two of you cry out at the brief window of relief.

“This is fucking crazy…” He breathes against your lips. You nod, brushing your mouth against his, and he  gutturally moans from the slightest touch. “Taste so… so good. Need you s’bad.”

God, you need this, you need him too, but this will change everything between the two of you, forever.

“No going back after this, Steve,” You restrain yourself, though your hips twitch against his, core dripping onto his shaft. “L- like once we—“

He manages to break from the haze, for only a moment, “Shit’s already weird. We’re far past the point of n— oh— f- f- fuck—“ You glide against him as his cock nestles between your folds. He fights to regain some composure, nodding frantically. “W- weird. It’s weird. It’s— fuck, just— kiss m—“

Sloppily, you smash your lips against his, not even bothering to ease in with a soft, sweet kiss. No, you’re hungrily kissing him, aching for more, more, more. Parting his mouth against yours, Steve hums and moans as his tongue flicks against yours. It’s messy, causing you both to drool on one another; it would absolutely turn the two of you off outside of this moment, but right now you can’t get enough of him.

You’re both distracted, too lost in one another to notice the bloom’s glow sparkling even brighter. Glittering particles float delicately over the two of you, tickling your skin with pinprick bursts of relief; they only last for a second, but it’s a sensation you’ll gladly accept.

Groaning into him, he pulls back as the little specks of light dance across his skin; he’s licking his goddamn lips again, smirking, unable to look away from you.

Unbeknownst to you both, the illuminating dust radiating off of the bloom just pulls you deeper into lust. The further you lose yourself in chasing bliss, the dryer your mouth becomes, the more antsy your body is— this is only getting worse.

“C- can I— I gotta— need to taste you, honey…” Steve nuzzles his nose against your cheek, whimpering as the head of his cock catches on your entrance. “Please? I- I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“It’s not up to m- me, Steve…” His tip presses into you, just barely, and you’re ready to suck him in, but you resist. The vines don’t force it. 

Falling silent, he concentrates on the position he wants the two of you tangled in; pulled to the grimy floor, back against the filthy tile, the vines keep Steve pinned in place. He grunts, wriggling against their grip, but knows it’s pointless. 

The rope-like creatures pull you down, but in a peculiar position above him.

“Oh— Steve, what the—“

“C’mon, please? Please, please, please—“

You shut him up by lapping at the head of his cock; he jerks underneath you, thrusting up toward your mouth, a reaction to your touch. The vines bind the two of you together, where legs meet arms, and wind around your torsos, for good measure; you’re bound perfectly in a 69 position. He wastes no time, flitting his tongue against your swollen clit before sloppily making out with your cunt. 

“God— fuck— fuck!”

You take him in all the way, nose nestling against his balls as he fills your throat. Steve can’t help the way he fucks up into your mouth, gagging you. 

“M’sorry, oh, god, I’m— I- I’m so sorry,” He sobs into your folds, sucking your clit roughly— once, twice, three times, before tapering his tongue and fucking your entrance. 

That apology dissolves quickly as you involuntarily grind on his face.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Even muffled, he’s so smug about it, lapping up every inch of you he can reach. “Ri- ride my face, baby. Just like that.”

Steve’s always had a reputation for being smooth with his lovers, so to hear him stutter constantly around you is getting to your head.

It’s obscene, the way he slurps and sucks so loudly at your cunt, only spurring you on to fully take him, all of him, gagging around the base of his length each time your face meets the tufts of trimmed curls around his cock. 

You’ve never given, nor received, head like this before, and god damn, it’s sinful. Downright filthy, pornographic, absolutely lewd and out of your comfort zone— except right now, it feels perfect. You can’t get enough of one another, and it shows in the way you devour him, and how he reciprocates ten fold.

It startles you to feel his strong hands hold your hips, keeping you close to his face; the vines still keep him restrained, but loose enough to give him some creative freedom. 

And Steve has no problem getting creative.

“Wait— hey- h- hang on—“

The slick tip of a vine dances along your entrance, teasing you. There’s no holding back any pathetic noises by now; the two of you are completely at the will of these grotesque extensions of this wasteland, only able to control them so much. 

“What’re you scared of? Didn’t you get fucked dumb on these yet?”

“N- no.” You try to crane your neck, try to glance back, but a vine winds around your throat, and you panic. “Fuck— fuck! Steve, stop—“‘

“It’s not me, I- I swear—“ He’s cut off as another length slinks around his throat, too. It’s too reminiscent of the bat that tried choking the life out of him just hours ago. He rasps out weakly, “Sh- shit—“

Steve’s mind spirals while he begins to hyperventilate; This is bad. This is really, really, really fucking bad.

There’s nothing either of you can do, not while you’re trapped, bound together by the most repulsive, living restraints. An idea— albeit a terrible one, but it’s an idea— crosses your mind. 

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen to your own brain right now, and you’ll regret it later, but all you can do is plunge your mouth back onto him. Hoping to appease the vines, you hope that it gives him a needed distraction from the panic, too.

 Within seconds, the vine around Steve’s throat releases, and he’s left gasping for air. 

Yet the rush of that, and your mouth working on him intensely is enough to draw his balls up, hips bucking and forcing his length to the back of your throat. Spit is practically pouring like a faucet from between your lips and his shaft, down onto his lap.

“M’gonna— I— hah- ah—“ Steve silences himself, barely catching his breath before delving into your folds, sucking crudely on your clit; the vine still hooked around your neck finally loosens, too. Your thighs attempt to slam shut, crowding around his head as he grunts into you. 

All fear dissipates again as the two of you lose yourselves in the pleasure of an impending high.

“Could eat ya’ all fucking night,” He mumbles into your pussy, kissing, sucking, lapping in a pattern that’s sure to make you crumble any second now. When you try responding, despite knowing you’ve got his cock shoved to the hilt down your throat, he slams his hips up into you. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s fuckin’ rude.”

This is absolutely a bad porno; one too corny even for that back room in Family Video.

… But it’s still enough to shove you over the edge. 

You’re moaning so loudly, you’re sure if he wasn’t stuffing your face, you’d be easily heard from this dimension into your own. You’re grinding onto his mouth with everything you’ve got, twitching and fluttering around nothing yet again, soaking his face.

Steve’s not too far behind you; the way you gag and attempt to cry out on his cock is enough to make him finish. He holds his grip on you tightly, groaning so roughly, his voice cracks; you’re certain there’ll be bruises around your thighs, and he’ll lose his voice later.

“Fuck— god—“ He gasps, eyes rolling back as he shakes, spilling his arousal down your throat. You try swallowing, and manage to take most of it, but there’s too much; you pop off of him, spend still pulsating from his slit.

Still catching your breath, the vines manhandle you off of him, just to flip you around and bind the two of you together, flush up against one another again. Your faces almost touch; both of you take a second to get a better look at the other, equally ashamed and aroused.

Covered in your own slick and his sweat, Steve’s face glistens as he breathlessly smiles up at you. Eyes glued on you, he admires the way his arousal sticks to your lips, dripping down your chin onto him.

“Hey, are you ok— oh— uh—“ 

Licking at the corner of your mouth, he allows the sticky spend to trail back onto his tongue.

This kiss isn’t as rushed, but it’s just as sloppy as the first; the messes on your faces combine, making it easy to taste one another, swapping arousal between your tongues. When you pull back, a string of saliva follows from your lips to his. He flits his tongue out to catch it, desperate for the taste of you in any form he can get it.

“Open your mouth,” You order, and happily he obeys, tongue out, too. Slowly, you spit into his mouth, slick drooling onto his taste buds. On contact, his eyes roll back with a gravelly groan, hips rutting into yours. “Good boy.”

Steve shudders, precum already leaking onto both of your stomachs. You’re both impressed and a little freaked out.

“How are you hard again?”

“Never stopped, won’t go away,” He rasps, brows knitting together as his eyes flutter shut; a pained expression takes over. “It— it hurts, baby.”

“What hurts, Stevie?”

Whining, he writhes underneath you, certainly not helping either of you as his member rubs against your clit. 

“Fuck, don’t— will you stop humping me for five fucking seconds?! Can’t fucking think when you do that—“

Like the petty son of a bitch Steve Harrington is, he thrusts up against you, biting his lip through his cocky power trip.

“This is your fault!”

“Here we fucking go…”

“Didn’t think you were so desperate to get fucked you’d let yourself get groped by these fuckin’ things—“

“No, enough, we’re not playing this game, Steve.”

Wordlessly, Steve has the vines yank you off of him, tossing you onto the exam table to pin you down. They’re much gentler with him, easing him off the floor, almost allowing him to walk towards you. He clambers up onto the table, towering over you.

“We both want this, what’s the problem?”

“You! You’re the problem, Steve. You’re always the problem! I’m not some part-time, back-burner friend for you to abandon when you’re bored!” The words leave your lips before you realize the damage they hold, watching as Steve’s face falls. “Wait, St— I didn’t mean that— I—“

He’s so torn, conflicted in the whirlwind of emotions and desires that goddamn blooming plant has the two of you drowning in. He hates that he hurt you earlier, made you feel like running off was better than sticking with him, staying safe under his protection. He regrets anything he’s said to hurt you— tonight, in the past— anything that’s harmed you when he should’ve continued to care for you, he wishes he could take it all back.

And yeah, he knows you have every right to be mad. You have every right to lash out and express the hurt this caused.

But to be called a problem? Something about that hits so deep, too deep, he’s not sure where to begin, to try untangling why it aches so badly. That’s all he’s ever felt like, to everyone, during everything— a problem. One big, never-ending problem.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t— that was so fucked up for me to say.” You try sitting up, want to hold him, make it well known he’s the complete opposite of a problem to you. The vines, however, have no issue keeping you pinned to the stainless steel surface. 

To your surprise, he pushes past it. You can see the hurt in his eyes, but the control he’s under forces that to the back of his mind.

“Shouldn’t have told you it’s your fault,” He mutters, leaning down towards you, kissing your neck lazily. It’s safer to keep moving, keep pleasuring one another, so the vines don’t attempt choking the two of you again. “I was so mean to you earlier—“

“Had every right to be, I really was a cry—“ A sharp gasp cuts your own words off as his smooth, ruddy tip brushes against your clit. You instantly feel relief from an ache you had forgotten about among all of the emotional pain. “St— Steve… again…”

Your senses are hyper aware, as you assume his are too; it’s so easy to feel his slit right against your throbbing clit as he rubs himself against you.

“S’okay, honey, gonna make y’feel better.”

 It’s like relief is almost in reach, just far enough from your fingertips to try grasping it; this isn’t enough. You need him inside you. You need him to ruin you.

“Apologies later, okay?“

“Uh-huh…” He must be thinking about the vines spreading your legs, because they split apart with ease, held back by their strength. Which, honestly, right now you’re kind of glad they’re doing the work instead of you. “Gotta help each other.”

It’s unreal how soaked you both are, trembling as he slides his length between your folds with ease. The two of you are hot to the touch, alarmingly hot.

“Still hurts?”

“So fucking bad, so—“ You reel back a sob, taking a deep breath. Your palm splays wide open, fingers wiggling weakly towards him. He takes the hint, sliding his fingers between yours before giving a firm, steady grip. “St- Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?” He sounds so winded, restraining himself from railing you into the table. 

“Don’t hold back.”

The words barely leave your lips before your vision goes white; a ringing in your ears drowns out surrounding sounds, but it doesn’t last very long. It takes a second to realize what’s happening.

The sinful bliss you were submerged into was Steve slamming into you all at once. You’re gasping, trying to catch your breath as the focus comes back to your vision.

“I didn’t mean t- to— the vines pushed me,“ He whimpers, shoved in to the hilt, throbbing against your velvety, tight walls. “I- I was gonna go slow, I didn’t wanna hurt you—“

“S’okay, I wanted it,” You croak out, clamping down onto him. Steve’s eyes roll back before ducking his face into your neck as you confess, “I’ve always wanted it.”

“Always wanted y— this.” He nearly fumbles the correction. The vines pull his arms behind his back; despite the lack of upper-body support, he has no problem fucking you fast and deep. “Even if y- you’re an idiot. Pretty, but a fuckin’ idiot.”

“Could say the same about— ah! Ah— y- you, asshole.” He rests his forehead on yours, shallow, rapid breaths tearing through him, meeting your own. “You’re— could’ve warned me you’re s- so fucking big.”

Despite hitting rock bottom in the sea of lust, he manages to laugh weakly against your lips. “What— you just sucked the life out of my dick! You knew what I— I’m— ” He’s flustered trying to point out that you did see and feel how big he was, while still trying to stay humble.

How fucking precious.

“Christ, your dirty talk is weak,” You tease, scrunching your face as your tongue pokes out. Steve takes the opportunity to kiss you, parting your lips with his before sucking softly on your tongue. It’s fucking weird, but oddly enough, such a fucking turn on, too. 

Some vines dip their very tapered tips into your mouth, just at the corners to pull your lips apart. Steve spits onto your tongue, shuddering over the way you squirm. Another vine circles the base of his cock, giving a taunting squeeze.

“Not as weak as you and— a— “  Words collapsing on his tongue, he realizes that he’s no match for the vines and what your filthy thoughts are capable of. He’d take control, but it just feels wrong not succumbing to your desires over his own. “Tight, too fucking t— tight—“

The vines holding your lips retreat. “You can’t finish a sentence around me, can you?”

“Huh?” He stares down at you, puzzled, as your walls hold him deep within you; there’s no letting go, not now, and to him, not ever.

“You’re this pussy drunk already? Seriously?” Where the confidence stems from, you’re unsure, but you’re running with it against your own free will. “I knew you liked me, but I didn’t think you were down this bad.”

Steve slams into you mercilessly. “Shut.” He thrusts again. “Up.”

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” 

Tightening around his wrists, the vines tug him back, preventing any further movement.

“Wh— what the fuck— hey!” He wriggles against the relentless grip, brows knit together and nostrils flaring as he sighs roughly. “Enough of this shit!”

A laugh slips past your lips, but Steve’s unamused. 

“Say please.”

Now he scoffs a laugh. “Fuck you.”

“You’re already doing that, babe.” Your gaze falls between your bodies, fixating where you both meet. “Or, well, you were. What happened, Stevie? Guess the rumors in school were never true, huh?”

The jab clears the haze, for a moment. “Will you— I’m trying to get us out of here, stop being such a b—“

The vine at the base of his shaft tightens, strangling out a moan.

“Does someone need a break?” You pout up at him, only for a vine to pull your bottom lip down; your mouth opens just enough to spit harshly onto your tongue. To his dismay, you make a pleased noise and smirk.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” His insult makes your walls clench around him, and he laughs bitterly. “Oh, you like that, you like all of this shit, huh?”

Okay, yeah, sure, maybe you’re into some degradation, if you squint, from a distance. Maybe you’re just a little into being humiliated, on an off day. His comment still pisses you the hell off, though.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Bet you came in here willingly, too.” He snarks, regaining the control of the vines; he bottoms out into you, a little too satisfied at your gasps. “What? Couldn’t wait ‘til we got home to rub one out? Had to just find something to get off on.”

“I said—” You grit your teeth, grabbing control of the vines as his own thoughts waver; he’s too busy feeling all high and mighty with his weak words to keep his hold on you. He’s tugged off the table and onto the floor, while the vines allow you to stand, towering over him. “— watch your goddamn mouth, Steve.”

Slithering tendrils spiral around his ankles and wrists, pinning him down into a spread eagle position. His head whips around, breathless as he can only watch this switch in defeat.

“M’sorry, I- I’m sorry,” He whines, vines tightening around his limbs. Your name falls so pitifully from his pretty, kiss-swollen lips; a plea for some kind of mercy. “Hon- honey, please.”

There’s a power trip you and Steve continue to swap back and forth, and now that it’s back in your hands, you’re stunned by the sight of him helpless, pinned by the vines underneath you.

This is all hard to grasp, and so quickly, too.

Because you grew up with Steve. You were friends for so long, until his mean streak in high school, trading in genuine friendships for the promise of popularity— a tale as old as time. 

The man writhing underneath you, torn between pain and pleasure, isn’t the boy you chased around the playground many years ago. He’s not the insufferable jock you were forced to watch him pretend to be. He’s not the guy you graduated with, barely recognizable after his fall from grace.

Hell, you’re not even sure if this is the same Steve you reconciled with.

This version of him, the one nearly sobbing as the vines keep him pinned to the filthy floor, he’s someone you’ve only met tonight.

Steve will never be the same after this, neither will you.

You can’t help admiring his broken form, so fragile and weak. You too, are incredibly delicate at this point, but to watch this version of Steve beg you to help, beg you to give him any sort of relief from this nightmare that cursed plant and these vines are forcing you through…

Well, that’s just one power trip you can’t pass up.

Arching his back off the floor’s chipped tiles, your breath hitches, mesmerized by his presence. He’s veiled in a sheen of sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly with his shaky breaths. The plant’s glittering flecks of rose gold float around him, creating an ethereal glow; it’s a welcomed contrast to the agony written all over his beautiful face. He’s crying softly, babbling to himself about how badly he wants you, how he needs to be deep inside you or he might die— his words, not yours.

Whatever version of Steve is slowly going insane before your eyes is still your Steve, and power trip or not, you can’t stand seeing him suffer any longer.

You lower yourself, swinging your leg over his lap; hovering over his length, your folds barely touch his shaft. He whimpers some more, tears still slipping down his pretty features. And god, he’s so fucking gorgeous, especially in this state. 

Steve tries flexing his hips up, tries to push into you, but you will the vines to pin his body down even more; they sling around his waist, keeping low to avoid his wounds. Though you don’t move away, he spirals into panic.

 His mindless, desperate babbling begins again, “Don’t— please don’t leave me like this, d- don’t— I need you, I need you so bad…” When you gently glide your slick core along his cock, he gasps sharply, eyes rolling back as his jaw falls slack. A sob rumbles through his chest, body alight with an invisible, unbearable flame, one that can’t be extinguished without you.

“You need me?”

“Yes! What— I said that!”

“Say it again,” You order. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?!” He wheezes, wrestling his lower half underneath you, fighting against the vine steeling his hips in place. “I don’t— how else do you want me to say it? Tell me what you want!”

Leaning in close, your lips brush over his as the vines loosen just enough; now, it’s your turn with the creative freedom. 

Caressing his face gently, you kiss away some of his tears; his desperation shouldn’t arouse you this much. You’ve never been one to be this bold, never enjoyed power trips at the expense of a partner, but that fucked up plant has unlocked a whole new perspective for you. 

“I want you to admit it, Steve.”

His breaths slow, sobs devolving into hiccups, eyes nearly crossed as he fixates on your expression up so close.

“Ad- admit what?”

It’s so delicious to hear Steve hang on your every word, waiting to obey whatever you order of him. The way he clings to any shred of hope that you’ll help him, so long as he’s good for you. The agony of his sinful desires are burning him alive, and he will do anything if it means you’ll snuff those flames out, once and for all.

Granted, your need for him is just as leveled; you won’t make it out of this feeling alive without his help, too. For now, you’ll play pretend, healing your ego he bruised earlier.

“One: that you like me.”

As you sit up, his brows knit together while he forces out an incredulous laugh.

“I— no, I don’t— are you that fucked up right now?”

“No, but you sure seem to be if you’re still balls deep in denial.”

“I have never, ever— we’re friends! Why—“ He pauses, narrowing his stare with a scoff, “You just want me to like you.”

The vines even allow you to cross your arms, glaring down at him; it drives the sting a little deeper, to see these ghastly creatures side with you in such a tiny, yet mighty way.

“What I want, is for you to stop being an asshole.” Hands falling to his hips, you sink your fingers into his skin and grind onto him, just for a moment, enough to make him tremble and whine. “Two: I want you to admit how mean you were earlier—“

“I- I was not being mean,” He sputters another skeptical chuckle. “Maybe you were being difficult!”

Pretending to understand, you nod softly before running your core over him again, allowing the tip to catch at your entrance, pushing in, ever so slightly. A strangled moan escapes him, eyes rolling back again.

“And finally,” You reach down, running your fingers through his hair, pulling rough enough to mean business. “You need to admit one more thing. This one’s real important, Stevie.”

“Ok- okay, what?”

As a wicked smirk graces your features, he gulps audibly.

“That I’m not a crybaby— you are.” 

You don’t give Steve a chance to retort, impaling yourself onto his cock all at once. He screams, but it’s a near-silent release, voice cracking at the back of his throat as he convulses underneath you. Tensing up, his veins protrude through his tan skin, covered in sweat and grime. His cock kicks and pulses inside you, wordlessly begging to finish already.

“You can’t cum ‘til I do,” You roll your hips slowly, leaning down to match up face to face once more. Again, you grind as he babbles more pleas of mercy and pleasure. “It’s okay, I’ll make it worthwhile, I promise, babe.”

Capturing Steve’s lips in yet another slovenly, vulgar kiss, relief finally floods through his body. Not completely, not enough, but it’s reassuring you won’t leave him hanging. Again, you know you can’t finish without him, either, but he’s so lost in the high the bloom unleashed on him, that detail is meaningless.

“H- ho— oh fuck— honey, please, I- I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, I’ll— you—“

This poor man’s brain will disintegrate if you don’t let him come soon.

“Yeah? How?”

“Y- you— I like you, I really li- like you, and I’m not just saying it—“ He takes a deep breath as a vine teases along his balls; its end opens in petal formations, similar to the ones teasing your clit earlier, sucking on the sensitive skin. “I’m sorry— fuck, fuck m’so sorry—“

Cutting him off with a kiss, he groans into you; guard let down for a moment, the vine around his waist loosens, and he bucks up into you, unable to control himself.

“Apologies later,” You remind him, tapping his cheek, and without a spoken order, his mouth falls wide open. You spit onto his tongue, and he bucks up into you again; fingers digging into his chest, your nails claw at his skin, careful to avoid the wounds from earlier.

Every so often, one of you brushes against the other’s injuries, earning a hiss or short howl in pain, but coddling those aches and stings isn’t priority. Caring for one another— even under the layers of sarcasm, unresolved anger and abandonment issues— that’s all that matters right now.

“So pretty like this, Stevie,” You lean back to hit a sweet spot, one you both go dumb over. He’s still panting heavily, sobs slipping from his kiss swollen lips every so often. “You’re such a good boy when you’re helpless.”

He rambles between apologies and expressions of gratitude, sweat beading down his face, teaming up with his tears. His lower half jerks wildly underneath you, but his cock isn’t throbbing like it’s about to release. You glance back, finding the vine once on his sac, now slithering down to his ass.

You’re not the one willing the vines to do this.

The petals open back up on its end, splaying out along his puckered-pink hole; it gently sucks at the taut entrance, and Steve trembles beneath you. Your jaw drops, turning back to see his face twisted up in pleasure that’s unimaginable to most.

“Didn’t know you were this filthy…” You smirk down at him, admiring the way his lids continue to flutter rapidly, eyes rolling back enough where you only see the whites. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

Amidst the lust-induced blathering, he admits so easily, “Wish it was you instead… oh, god, wish it was your pretty fuckin’ mouth instead.”

You don’t just inch closer to your climax, you leap towards it. His confession pulls at something deep in your stomach, makes your clit throb with the thought.

“Yeah? You’d want that when we get home?”

A guttural groan rips through his throat, deep from his chest.

“So bad, so s- so bad, please, I—“ He gasps sharply, hips wriggling down onto the vine. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— wish it was your tongue in me right now.”

“It’s all yours when we make it out, I promise.” You grind down on him, hips rutting faster as he hits your sweet spot sloppily. “I’m all yours, I swear, Steve.”

“M’all yours too, honey, all f- fuckin’ y—“ His mouth falls open, breath hitching in his throat before sputtering, “I- I’m gonna— m’sorry I can’t— I need to cu—“

You slide off his dick, and he cries out, devastated that his high was ripped away.

“Why the fuck would you do that?!”

“I said you couldn’t finish ‘til I did.” You lower yourself, just above the tip, taunting him.

Steve’s tongue prods his cheek for a moment, brows raised, trying to steady his breathing, but he just slams up into you instead. Rage is written all over his face, with a hint of guilt underneath, but he takes you back, anyway.

These vines aren’t siding with either of you, they just like toying with you both. They’ll give just enough freedom to whoever takes charge, but won’t release completely. You wonder if they’d keep you here forever, if they could.

He uses the vines to flip on top, throwing you into a mating press while the tendrils tighten you in place. He wastes no time shoving himself in to the hilt; the stretch is wicked and intoxicating, dragging you back into subspace.

“Who had to come find you?”

“You…” 

He rests so much of his weight onto you, pinning you down harder than the vines; you hiccup a sob, head thrown back on the floor and eyes screwing shut. You’re an insatiable wreck, wishing he could suffocate you, go even deeper, devour you whole.

Steve grabs your face roughly, large hand squishing into your cheeks as his palm rests under your chin, forcing you to look at him. When you refuse to open your eyes, his hand disappears, only to slap your face; light enough to not be violent, just enough to give you that delicious sting across your skin.

He’s relentlessly drilling into you, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Who had to save your ass?”

Sweat drips down his face onto your own.

“You!”

He’s grunting in time with his thrusts, spit dribbling from his lips, also landing on your face. Tongue out as you pant, a few droplets hit your tastebuds, causing you to clench and whimper. Right now, you’re sure you could cum just from being soaked in any of his fluids.

And that’s fucking disgusting.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You barely can rasp out, “Y- yours…”

“What was that?”

“Yours! It’s yours!”

Satisfied with your pathetic answer, Steve’s reaches for your clit, bring you both to ecstasy—

The vines quit listening to either of you; they drag you both upward into the air. They wind and weave around your bodies, forcing you together, like earlier, but even closer (as if that was even possible). Your legs are pulled around his waist; they impale you on his cock again, forcing your lower half to roll and grind onto him. Steve’s dragged back into his subby state from earlier, and you’re already lost in your own.

A thinner vine than most wraps around both of your heads together, shoving your faces, your lips, against one another. You’re bound together so tightly, you couldn’t turn away if you wanted. When a cry slips out of Steve, your tongue slips past his lips, massaging his own. He continues to keen into you, while the two of you drool all over yourselves.

It’s sticky. It’s hot. It’s repulsive.

You love it.

Neither of you can warn the other you’re about to finish, only your bodies do the talking; climaxes spoken through violent jerking and jolting, skin slapping on skin, limbs shaking and moans vibrating into one another.

You’re floating. At least, you feel like you are. And okay, yeah, sure, technically you are while the vines hold you up.

 Everything is blinding, bright white in a flash, every sensation burning you up under your skin turns into a relief you’ve never felt before. It’s like dunking your head in cold water during a heatwave, or when you finally lay down in your bed after a long, long day. Something like that, tenfold.

All of the intense, searing pain leaves your body, flooding through with bliss. So. Much. Bliss.

There’s a ringing in your ears, but it’s not harsh, doesn’t ache; it fades in time with the blinding white brightness surrounding you.

As it all falls back into place, as you come back down from the most insane orgasm of your life, you can hear Steve’s shallow breaths, loud moans quieting down. Settling back into reality, his heartbeat calms with yours; you can feel one another’s with ease, bodies still shoved together.

The vines finally retreat, releasing you both carelessly, sending you tumbling to the floor. Steve lands on top of you, catching himself in time as his hands hold him up. There’s a chill that rests on your skin; the unbearable burning has vanished, and the absence of the vile vines and their grip plunge you both into relieving shivers.

It’s only heavy, heaving breaths and stunned expressions exchanged with one another. His arms shake, absolutely worn down from whatever…. Whatever the fuck that was. Managing to lift your arms, you wind them around his shoulders; you ease him into your embrace, allowing him to rest on top of you. At first, he sighs, but it turns into shudders as he processes everything.

Both of you begin to babble apologies at the same time. 

You’re whimpering an, “I’m sorry, Steve, I’m so, so—“ while he whispers shakily, “It’s my fault, m’so sorry, honey.”

He shakes his head, sweat and grime rubbing off on your shoulder— equally gross, you’re certain.

“No, I drove you away—“

“You didn’t force me to stomp off and get lost like a fucking moron.”

“I mean years ago, not just tonight.” His grasp gingerly circles your waist, mindful of your own battered body, holding you close. “I fucked up, I pushed you away… and this friendship was never a mistake. Fixing it was never, ever a mistake. I wish I could take back every awful thing I’ve said and done.”

“I wasn’t making it any easier tonight. Seriously,” You gently push his face off of you, holding his in your hands. 

You realize how close the two of you are, it makes you nervous, despite having the most X-rated, nonsensical sex of your life. Now that the bloom’s effects have worn off, you don’t feel as confident, or desperate, to make any bold moves.

You also can’t help but wonder if he ever actually wanted you the way you always wanted him.

“I should’ve stayed. You were just trying to get us home safely.” Your eyes scrunch shut as you take a breath, letting the last of your guard down. “I’ve been so afraid to lose you again, to some stupid shit, and then all of this… this Upside Down bullshit… it terrifies me. Steve, I was so scared I lost you for good at the lake.

“You’re not a problem, either. I wish I never said that, ‘cause it’s far from the truth—“

He cups under your jaw, thumb gently caressing along your cheek, touch taking your breath away. Like the two of you weren’t just all over one another in the most sinful ways.

“Think we both said some awful shit to each other, shit that neither of us meant. And I think we both are sorry, yeah?”

You nod as your eyes open, bottom lip trembling a little.

“I’m not going anywhere, not without you.” Steve searches your gaze for any other hidden truths, his own stare glassy. “But you can’t keep hiding anymore, either.” He hesitates before asking, “What happened?”

There’s no reason to keep your pain bottled up anymore, not when you’ve bared all to one another tonight.

You can’t look him in the eye when you answer; “No one leaves if you don’t let them in. Can’t be abandoned when you keep your distance.”

Steve’s heart aches; he has his own abandonment issues, and yours are best to be unpacked another time, when all of this is said and done. For now, he does what he’s best at: wearing his heart on his sleeve, while holding you close; he hopes in time you can trust him again.

“I think we need each other… now more than ever.” He kisses your forehead; what a contrast to the way he kissed you so greedily earlier.

Squeezing tightly back, you’re mindful of his wounds, too. “We do.”

Over his shoulder, you glance over at the plant, now wilted, rotting rapidly before your eyes.

“Stupid fuckin’ plant.”  You flip it off, as if that does anything. 

Steve chuckles for a moment before asking, “Are you okay? That’s— like I know what we just went through was fucked up—“

All you can do is laugh with him, because really, what the fuck just happened? “So fucked up.”

“But you’re not hurt at all, are you? I- I mean more than before— I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Oh… uh, no. M’kinda sore, but nothing I can’t handle.” You shyly answer. “Are you okay?”

“Kinda sore,” He repeats you, smirking, “Nothing I can’t handle.” His stare falls to your lips, lingers there. “We should probably find our way back… but I can— uh.” He forces his gaze back on yours, blushing deeply. “I can give some, um, real aftercare, y’know, when we get back home… if you want… maybe even talk this thing out… feelings, and stuff.”

You’re taken aback by the unexpected, vague confession, but also so smitten by how flustered he’s getting.

“Yeah, I’d like that, Steve.” You lean in to kiss his cheek softly. “I can take care of you, too.”

He begins to grin, “Okay—“

Distant shouting and footsteps startle the both of you, freezing in place. Steve shields you with his naked form, as if that’d do anything from whoever— or whatever— is in the building.

“Guys, you in here—“ Eddie runs in, only to shriek at the sight of you and Steve on the floor, completely nude. “Jesus H. Christ—“ He grabs his vest from the floor, the one Steve wore and somehow still intact, hurtling it at Steve with his eyes shut. “I said for your fuckin’ modesty, Harrington!” 

He stomps out, returning to throw some lab coats, drenched in soot and grime your way. “Glad you two got to have your moment, and all, but we should probably go home.” As he wanders out the door, he mutters, “Perverts.”

Both you and Steve throw the coats on, giggling to the point of tears as Eddie’s voice echoes down the hall to who you assume to be Robin and Nancy, “I was right! You two owe me $10 each!”

Steve shakes his head with a sigh, yet his smile never fades; he takes his time, carefully pulling you up with him. Hand outstretched to you, he asks, “Walk of shame time?”

You groan, but a smile cracks across your face as you lace your fingers between his.

“Yeah, walk of shame time.”

“Anything for you, Stevie,” you replied, your words coated in a whine as you circled your hips against him harder.

“Want you to suck me off.” Steve matched the rhythm of his hips with yours.

You chuckled, “is that it?”

Did he really need to ask? As if you hadn’t done it a hundred times over.

“No,” he laughed but there was something in it that sounded a little shy, “there’s more.”

You used your grip on his hair to pull his face back from yours. You wanted to look him in the eye.

“Tell me what you want.”

Steve let out a shaky breath as your eyes bore into his. He had that puppy dog look in his eyes. Not like he was trying to get whatever he wanted, more like he was a little sheepish about whatever it was.

“I was thinking,” he started speaking cautiously, “after I… finish, you could–“ he paused to swallow the build up of saliva in his mouth, “–feed it to me.”

You looked at him slightly confused, the feeling of him agaisnt you making your brain a little slow at processing. “What do you mean?”

Steve was really hoping you’d get the jist of it, he felt a little embarrassed having to explain it in detail.

He took in a long breath, organising the words in his head before he spoke. “After I cum in your mouth,” he said slowly, “don’t swallow it all, and then…” Steve tried to mime a feeding motion into his mouth rather than saying the words.

“You want me to spit your cum in your mouth,” you said matter of factly.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds weird.” He scrunched up his face like he was disgusted, even though what you said made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Hey, no it doesn’t, it’s not weird,” you reassured him. “I think it’s actually kinda hot.”

“Y–you do?”

“Yeah.” You realised that through your conversation, both of you had halted your movements – you started grinding against Steve again. “But I wanna know why.”

“Why what?” Steve questioned, his hands on your hips, encouraging them.

“Why you want me to do it.”

“Does there have to be reason?”

“Well, isn’t there? There must be something that gave you the idea.”

“Hm…” He thought about it for a moment. “I guess I’m just… curious.”

You nodded your head at him in acknowledgment but also to get him to keep going.

“I can taste it a little when you kiss me after and you know how much I love the taste of you.” He stroked over your bottom lip with his thumb. “So, I wanna try me.”

“You’ve never tried to do it yourself?”

“Oh honey, I cannot bend like that.”

You gave him a playful hit on the chest. “No,” you laughed. “Not like that! I mean when you jerk off and it gets on your hand… you’ve never…” Your voice tailed off as it got lower, the image in your head of what you were describing made your hips chase some extra friction.

Steve frowned, tilting his head to the side as if you had just suggested something he had never before even considered. “No… Ha–have you?”

You nodded, biting your lip to hold back the deep whimpers building up from your core.

“Well, remind me to get you to show me that another time,” Steve smirked.

You rolled your eyes at him but there was a glint in them that told him you would do it.

“Anyways,” Steve continued. “I also think it would be super hot for you to spit in my mouth, you know, cum or no cum,” he said, his tone much more casual than before – he was relaxing into it.

You chuckled lightly at Steve. You loved when he opened up to you about his desires. When you first met Steve he was pretty vanilla, and boy did he make that your favourite flavour. But you two gradually discovered new and interesting ways to get each other off, to make love to each other, to fuck each other. It was excitingly intimate revealing those parts of you to one another.

No more than ten minutes later, you had Steve flat on his back on the bed. You had stripped him from the waist down. His shirt bunched up all the way to his arm pits from where you had explored the peaks and troughs of his chest with your delicate yet needy hands.

Your mouth moved hungrily up and down his cock. One hand griped his hip, holding it down. The other reached up his gorgeously hairy chest, massaging at his pecks. Steve’s hand held yours firm agaisnt his chest, his other hand tangled in a mess in your hair as he helped to fuck his desperate length into your warm mouth.

“Aah–oh shit–hmm, baby…”

You could already taste him, you did from the moment you first licked at his tip, precum beading at the top. The thought of giving the taste to Steve, showing him that deep part of himself, made you so wet. You could feel your needy clit throbbing between your legs as you sucked his cock into your mouth. You moaned around him as you took each inch of him, vibrating down his shaft.

“Your mouth’s so good baby, you’re doing so good, so fucking good f’me.”

Steve twitched in your mouth as he forced your head back and forth a little harder.

“Can’t last much longer, gonna cum in your pretty mouth, yeah, you gotta keep it all in there for me.”

You hummed around him in agreement.

“Hmm, just a little more–ugh…uugh–fuck–oh shit, I’m cumming.”

Even with his warning, the shock of him spurting out into your throat made you swallow a bit of him as a reflex.

Steve moved your head back so the tip of his cock was just past your lips.

“Keep it for me, please, need to taste it.”

You took as much as you could before it filled your cheeks to the brim. You pulled your head back out of Steve’s grasp.

You slowly climbed up his body. His eyes locked on yours and he looked almost scared. You gave him a raised brow as a subtle ask if this was still okay. He nodded, a small whimper escaping him as he did.

You closed the final distance, kneeling with your legs either side of his hips, closing him in. You leant over him and held his chin. He looked up at you as if you were the only thing he’d ever seen. He slowly parted his lips until his jaw hung open, waiting, wanting. His eyes flicked between your wide pupils and where you held his release inside you, a drip spilling out from the corner of your mouth like you couldn’t contain him.

Steve squirmed beneath you, you were teasing him and he knew it, denying him the thing he felt so embarrassed asking for. As if to try and break you, he extended his tongue out. Another whimper left him as he did, his eyes holding yours a little longer, pleading with you to just do it. He felt his cock twitch with anticipation.

You softly stroked his jaw as you held his gaze and opened your mouth to let the liquid drip out of you and into Steve’s mouth.

At the first touch on his tongue, Steve’s eye went wide, and then rolled back as he groaned. After everything had transferred to him, you spat any residual fluids forcefully into his mouth.

You watched has he closed his mouth. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed that delicious liquid. It was no doubt diluted by your own saliva, the beautiful mix of the two of you dancing on his tongue.

You lowered your hips down. Your still clothed core pressed against his still very hard cock and you rocked back and forth over it, finally getting some friction of your own. You continued watching Steve as you moved. He parted his lips again and ran his tounge over them like he was savouring every last drop.

“Did you like it?” You said, your voice low, coated in arousal – and him.

“Hmm,” Steve replied with a hum, nodding his head slowly.

The pathetic look on his face faded as a smirk grew on his glistening lips.

Suddenly Steve flipped you so you were now under him, his hips pressing hard into you as he helped you chase the feeling of him.

“Now I gotta see who tastes better.”

You scoffed at him, but it turned into a whine as he rolled his hips and his head nudged at your clit through your underwear.

“You really think you taste better than me?”

“I’ll need to get a good taste so I can compare.”

“You mean you don’t remember how I taste?” you said with exaggerated shock.

“It never hurts to be reminded…”

AN: Thank you for over 200 followers!!! Love you guys <3 I wanna write more of Steve asking you to do freaky stuff but like in a sweet way!!! Any ideas???