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MIDNIGHT MASS Episode 2 - "Book II: Psalms"
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STEVE HARRINGTON Stranger Things | 4.02: Vecna’s Curse
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Drunk Robin: Don't fear death, fear the state you will die in.
Drunk Eddie, whispering fearfully: New Jersey.
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Steve Harrington shirtless & wounded. Happy birthday to me 🎁 🎉🎈🥳 and some gifs for y'all.
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Jealousy
Pairing: Jim Hopper x female reader
Rating: 18+ ONLY
Warnings: Age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex, sex in his office, Hop’s a bit of a dom
Words: 2.3k ish?
Summary: Phil Callahan has a massive crush on you and Jim Hopper doesn’t want to admit that he’s jealous.
Author’s Note: please forgive me for two things: 1. If Hopper seems a bit OOC, it’s been a while since I’ve watched ST but I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while. 2. If I missed any warning/info that should have been provided. I haven’t posted fanfic on tumblr in about a decade so I’m out of practice. Hope y’all enjoy though!
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Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous.
He would describe himself as laid back when it came to relationships. Besides, when was he ever tied down to anyone long enough to get jealous? He would go with the flow, which usually meant he would have one night stand after one night stand and never call any of them ever again.
Until he met you.
You were a decade younger, but that didn’t bother him. You had a past, hell, so did he. He didn’t care. You started working at the station, that was great, he could see you every day and he definitely didn’t mind that. There was only one thing that seemed to be bothering him lately…
Phil Callahan had a massive crush on you.
Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous, especially not of Phil Callahan.
You wore tight skirts and cute heels to work, a stark contrast from Flo’s ankle-length dresses and sensible shoes. You were young and pretty, what did he expect? You spent a lot of your time flittering around the station, helping where you could, filing, cleaning, making, and answering calls. In between all of that, you found time to innocently flirt with Phil. You knew what you were doing; you knew it was going to make Jim’s blood boil every time he caught you sitting on the corner of Phil’s desk in your tight black skirt that hugged the curve of your ass perfectly. You were putting on a show, albeit one that had maybe gone on for too long. But you wanted to see how long it would take Hopper to crack.
Your white button-up top exposed your collarbone, giving everyone at the station a tiny peek of the smooth skin hiding underneath it. The black pumps that adorned your feet made a clicking sound as you walked back and forth and back and forth. Every time you passed by Jim’s open office door, he looked up from his paperwork in the hope of catching a glimpse. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.
Neither could Phil.
Why did that make him seethe with jealousy?
Deep down, he knew why. He knew why seeing another man’s eyes rake over your body drove him absolutely insane.
He knew it was because that body had been writhing underneath him a mere seven hours ago. He knew it was because when you woke up next to him this morning, all you wanted was his dick in your mouth. He knew that you were probably still thinking about the way he railed you before your morning shower with your hair wrapped around his fist. How could you not be? He certainly was.
You were walking around the station with a familiar swing in your hips, a skip in your step, humming one of your favorite songs. Flo had commented that you were in a surprisingly good mood for a Monday morning. No one knew the things the two of you did off the clock and Jim wasn’t sure if they should. He didn’t want people to think you only had a job because you were screwing the chief. You deserved a better reputation than the one he had earned.
Jim heard the clicking of your heels getting closer as you approached his office. “Hey chief,” you said, rapping your knuckles against the door frame. You held a brown folder in your hand. “Whatcha got?” Hopper asked, holding his hand out to take the folder. Before you could respond, you slowly pushed the door closed. “Somethin’ serious?” Jim raised an eyebrow at your actions but didn’t question you further. You set the folder down on his desk gently.
“I can feel your eyes on me every time I walk by,” you say, sitting in the chair opposite his desk and crossing your legs at the knee. Hopper leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out. You can feel the tip of his shoe rub against your ankle. “Yeah?” He remarks, “Can you feel Callahan’s too?” You nod, rolling your eyes, “Of course I can, but you looking up from your paperwork each time I walk by is what’s got me distracted.”
Hopper smirked, dragging his eyes over your exposed thighs. “Is that so?” He asked, “Not Callahan panting like a dog at your feet?”
You run a hand slowly through your hair, flipping it to one side. “Phil has been like that since high school. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to realize that if he hasn’t gotten any from me by now, he never will,” you explain. Hopper nods, his face emotionless as he moves his legs away from you. You follow his actions and lean in toward his desk.
“Besides,” you say, “I’ve had a lot on my mind today and I can’t say Phil Callahan has crossed it even once. You, on the other hand…”
“Me?” Jim asks, leaning back in his chair with his hands crossed behind his head, “What about me?”
He knows what he’s doing. That was your invitation and he knows you’ll take it. He watches as your mouth quirks up the tiniest bit in the corner, always one for a challenge. Hopper watches intently as you stand and make your way around the desk. He happily obliges when you motion for him to push his chair back a bit.
His hands immediately fly to the backs of your thighs when you straddle him and he has to hold back a groan as your hot pussy brushes against him. He takes in a sharp breath as you lean close to his ear.
“The chief wants to know what I’m thinkin’?” Your breath is hot against the shell of his ear. He nods, rubbing his hands from the backs of your knees to the curve of your ass. “I’m thinkin’ about your cock, chief, and how it feels when you’re filling up my pussy,” you place a kiss on the side of his neck, “I’m thinkin’ about laying back on this desk so you can fuck me right now.”
Jim presses his face in the crook of your neck to hide his groan. He hopes his office is far enough away from everyone so they can’t hear him. “You feel too good, baby,” he thrusts his hips up, trying to get closer but there are too many layers, “You know I’ll be too loud.”
You kiss him, deep and hard, taking his hands and pushing them onto your ass. “Maybe Phil will hear you and realize he doesn’t stand a chance,” you whisper with a smirk against his mouth. Hopper squeezes your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, undoubtedly leaving a mark.
You push yourself back up into a standing position, then take a seat on his desk. “So, are you gonna help me?” You ask, placing your right foot on the arm of his chair, feeling your skirt ride up. His eyes rake over you, going from your hip to your ankle, and you can tell his fingers are itching to touch you. “Or am I gonna have to do it myself?” You lift your left leg and place it on the opposite arm, exposing yourself to him. You trail your fingers down between your legs, feeling the wet heat that has soaked your panties.
“Touch me,” you whine, pushing your panties to the side to thrust a finger deep into your throbbing pussy, “please.” He watches under hooded eyes, his hands resting on your ankles. Your finger circles your clit and you hold back a moan, remembering that there’s only a door separating the two of you from everyone else. His hands creep higher and he traces lightly across your skin. “Unbutton your shirt,” he murmurs. You pull your fingers away from your pussy, wet and glistening, and slowly slip your buttons open.
One by one, you expose the skin of your chest to him. He can see the black lace of your bra and the swell of your breasts, heaving up and down as you pull your shirt off. “Fuck,” he mutters, “You’re so damn beautiful.” He gets closer to you with these words, filling the space between your thighs. He places a kiss at the base of your throat and you gasp as his beard tickles your skin. “Jim…” you groan, “I need you right now.”
He stands, crowding you, towering over you, with one hand on his belt buckle. You can see how hard he is, how his big dick strains against his uniform pants. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you on my desk?” He asks under his breath, palming himself over his pants. You nod, lying back over folders and papers. He hooks a finger in each cup of your bra and pulls, exposing your tight, hard nipples. “You are so turned on, baby,” he whispers against your nipple before wrapping his lips around you, “Bet that sweet pussy is soaked.”
A chill runs down your spine at his words. You want nothing more than to have him ram his thick cock inside of you, but his tongue on your tits is driving you absolutely insane. You wrap your legs around his waist. “Jim, please,” you’re getting desperate at this point. You want him inside you now.
His belt falls open first. Then he pops open the button and lowers the zipper. You’re one layer away from finally feeling him. You tighten your legs and pull him into you, whining when you feel his length pressed against you. “Easy, baby,” he says softly, “Be patient.”
He pulls away from you and pushes his boxers down, finally. His cock bobs between the two of you and he hisses when the cool air hits him. He pumps himself a few times while you watch, wetness pooling between your legs. You want your panties off, you want him to fill you up, you want to feel him. “You ready for this cock, baby?” He says. You nod, “I’ve been ready. You know this pussy is yours.” He smirks, reaches under your skirt, and pulls your panties down your legs in one movement. You squirm as he takes his place back between your thighs. The head of his cock brushes against you and you moan, bucking your hips towards him.
Jim is grinning; he loves seeing how much you want him, how much you need him.
“You want it all?”
You nod again.
He pushes into you, so familiar, so filling. He groans into your mouth, bites down on your lip, and pumps his hips back and forth. You’re gripping his biceps, your noses are touching, and his eyes are trained on yours.
“Atta girl,” he groans, “Atta fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this. Taking my cock on my desk at the station. You think Callahan could take you like this? You think Callahan could make your pussy this wet?”
You shake your head.
“You want Callahan to fuck you on his desk out there? You wanna tease him until he can’t take it anymore?”
His thrusts are getting sloppy, his desk is creaking beneath you. He’s already gotten you there twice and is working towards a third. “Oh…baby…girl…fuck,” he moans, his words each enunciated by a snap of his hips. Your hands are gripping the hair at the base of his neck and you know without a doubt that your bottom lip will have an intense indent from your teeth.
“You want my cum? You want it deep inside this pussy?” He growls. You nod, unable to form words, unable to think with the cloud of bliss that is currently fogging up your brain. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you…” he says, gripping your wrists and slamming them down on his desk above your head. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaking, “Yes, please, cum inside me.”
Suddenly, you feel like a rubber band snaps somewhere deep inside of you. Your back arches off of the desk and your eyes squeeze shut; you wish he didn’t have your hands pinned above your head because you’d love to dig your nails into his strong shoulders. Then he’s moaning - loud and deep, while he spills himself inside of you. Your body goes limp as he wraps his arms are you. He’s so warm and you cry out at the absence of his heat when he pulls out of you. “Jim…” you whine.
“Shh,” he says, digging through his drawers to find a random towel that he knows is buried in there somewhere. It’s scratchy and has a couple of holes, but he uses it to clean you up. His rough grips have turned to soft touches. He gingerly puts your heels back on your feet while you fix your bra and pull your shirt back on. When you stand, he pulls the bottom of your skirt down and gives your ass a gentle squeeze.
It’s a silent remark, something that tells you he enjoyed himself, that he loves you, and that he wouldn’t mind a round two this evening when you both get home.
“How do I look?” You ask, gesturing to your hair. Hopper leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette, “Gorgeous, as always.”
You smooth your hands through your hair and quickly swipe under your eyes, realizing then that you’ve been in Hopper’s office for far too long, your mascara is far too smeared, and your once crisp and perfect shirt is far too wrinkled.
With one last glance at him, you reach for his office door handle and pull it open. An officer is standing there, frozen in place with his fist in the air as though he was about to knock. You slip past him, grab a stack of folders on your way back to your desk, and call over your shoulder, “Oh, hi Phil!”
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sorry to interrupt / steve harrington x reader 
content & contains: requested!! set during s4. you were on watch duty with steve, he convinces you to share the special treatment you receive at the wheelers. 
reader wakes up to steve grinding against her, lil bit of perv!steve (my beloved), choking (steve receiving), thigh riding, hints of hung steve!size kink, hand job, pussy job, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie. mentions of bruising/hickies, tearing up, and scratching. 
author’s note: realized after that this is all technically happening at his ex girlfriend’s house……… sorry nancy. all my love to @yellowharrington​ & @chestharrington​ who always encourage every unholy thought i have and eagerly read whatever brain rot i give them at all hours of the day.
word count: almost 4.9k
i’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week
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Out of all the random kids who run around his house, you’re Ted Wheeler’s favorite.
Everyone else was stuck piling into the cramped basement while Ted made a big show of letting you know that the guest bedroom was made up for you. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t so entertained by the groans of protest coming from Dustin and Steve. 
Steve who then, suspiciously, made sure he was on watch duty with you.
Keep reading
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why haven’t i seen this before… i can’t take it anymore joe… joe… JOE!!!
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best friend steve…. mutual pining…. sleepy kiss…. shock…. kiss again….
It’s 3am and after a night of smashing back diet Pepsi and crying into pizza over a shitty VHS rom-com with the kids you settle into bed with Steve, your sharing the bed, you don’t mind! Really you don’t, you’ve spent years clambering into bed half drunk with him. face smushed against his chest after he’s just passed out from the ten thousand shots of vodka. Usually he punches your side in his sleep after you’ve just kicked him in the ass. Cold feet against his warm legs.
But this times it’s different. You're both sober.
You're in your oversized pjs hair pulled back from your shiny face, you sip on your glass of water as Steve groans into the pillow, he’s tired. his usual bedtime being at 10pm, his eyes are half lidded as you set your water down in the bedside table. the mattress coils squeaking as you move down the bed to set your head on the pillow and you drift off quickly, when you awake only a mere two hours later you’ve somehow settled into his arms, head pressed against his neck he pulls you tighter and you cock your head back to fully look at him. He stirs, “go back to sleep baby” and pull you in for a kiss missing half your lips in his sleepy state.
Your heart thumps against your chest, mouth open with shock , his eyes flutter open and witness your surprise. You swallow. it's no secret to the others the crush you've harboured on him for years, but the way you platonically cuddled had always left you wondering if it would ever be anything more.
“Steve” you whisper, your cheeks heated.
“hmm” he mumbles, hand smoothing at your hair as he leans into your neck, his hands smoothing over the small of your back as he pulls you in closer.
"you just kissed me"
“i did ?” you feel his voice vibrate against your neck, he hums softly and then he giggles .
His hand grasps around your face, and his sleepy brown eyes stare at you and he thumbs over your warm cheeks. "was it good?"
"you missed my lips" you say. he smiles lightly and the hand that is still tucked into the pillow moves to his chest, you gaze down at the graphic shirt he's wearing worn away over time.
"want me to try again?"
You nod, he pulls your faces together, lips touching lightly as he kisses you, It's soft and you feel him smile against you.
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Text
Thank you for reading!!
Single Blind Study
Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington
Word Count: 3k
Based on this prompt, originally by @stillgoingsteddie
Summary: After Steve and Eddie have discussed their fun times with the reader between themselves, they want to know who's the better lay.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Blindfolds. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V. Multiple partners.
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"What is happening exactly?" you ask, your pulse picking up as Eddie's nimble fingers tie his bandana over your eyes. "You guys weren't really all that specific when you said you wanted to hang out."
"I suppose you could call it a trust experiment," answers Steve, sitting next to you as he pats your thigh.
Eddie snorts. "Experiment is a good word for it."
"But," Steve insists, "a good chunk of this is about trust, sweets. Eddie and I have been thinking, and talking."
You chuckle. "That's never a good thing."
Eddie gives your head a gentle shove when he finishes tying the bandana, muttering an amused "smartass" under his breath.
His weight shifts on the couch as he settles in, at the same time Steve is moving forward, seemingly kneeling before you.
"Do you trust us?" he asks, his hands on either of your knees.
Your hand lands on one of his, your fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "I'll trust you more when you actually tell me what's going on. Why am I not allowed to see?"
"Okay, here's the deal," Eddie says, scooting closer to your side; you feel his warmth through his jeans, his thigh pressed against yours as Steve's hands move from your knees up to your hips. Your body tingles in response to their touches, waiting in earnest for their explanation. "Though, full disclosure, we were kinda high when we started talking about this."
You snort. "When aren't you kinda high, Eds?"
"Get to the point," Steve says impatiently, thwacking Eddie on the knee. He offers a gentle apology to you as he caught your knee with the reproach, too.
"So, we were having a conversation the other day about how you and I have done the horizontal tango before and how you and Steve have also..."
"Fucked each other's brains out," Steve finishes, his fingertips gripping into your hips for a moment.
"Oh?" is all you say.
It's no secret between the three of you that you've opened yourself up physically for them both. It all started on a boring summer day last year while you and Eddie were waiting for Steve to get home from work. The two of you started talking about past experiences, and one thing led to another. Shortly after, Steve was lamenting another failed dating attempt, and you found yourself on his lap in his car after you dropped the kids off at the arcade. Since then, whenever the fancy struck you, or Eddie, or Steve, it was a given that you'd roll around in the sack together.
The images of either one naked and writhing under you, above you, behind you, moaning your name, hands all over your body stream through your mind, tingling through your bloodstream and straight to your core.
"We started comparing notes," Eddie continues, his tone getting softer as he moves closer to you; you feel his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.
"What notes are we talking about here?" you ask.
"Things you like, things you don't like," Steve begins. "What you sound like, what you look like."
"And weirdly enough, there's a few discrepancies we noticed," Eddie says.
"Yeah, like we both know you like to fuck in public," Steve says, "but for whatever reason you and I only fuck in the car in public, but with Eddie..."
"Dressing room at JC Penney's, movie theater, in the middle of a show at the Hideout, I could go on..."
You can hear Eddie's grin as your body heats up, remembering especially the night at the Hideout where he took you up against the wall with a full crowd around you.
"Steve, do you wanna fuck in more places?" you giggle, pressing your thighs together for just a little bit of friction.
"No," he says before he grumbles. "I mean yes, but that's not the point of this conversation."
"The point is, Steve and I compared notes about you," Eddie says, "but we don't know how we compare. I would say that some of our experiences match up, but there's not enough information to tell which of us fucks you better."
"Ooohhh," you reply. "So, you want me to just tell you about it? I can do that. Don't see what the point of the blindfold is."
"Nah, sweetheart," Eddie says. "This is more of a live comparison."
It takes a second, but as soon as the idea clicks, your body floods with arousal. Your tongue slips over your lips as you imagine what's to come, and you feel your cunt squeeze in anticipation.
"Right," you say after a steadying breath, "but why the blindfold?"
You can practically hear their smiles as they each take one of your hands into theirs.
"It's a proper single blind study," Steve said. "We're taking away some factors that might influence your decision making."
“We’re gonna watch in real time,” Eddie adds. “We’re gonna watch which one of us makes you feel better.”
Heat floods your body, the pulsing between your legs ticking up exponentially. Your heart pounds at the thought; you’ve never had both of them at the same time. Not that you’d never thought about it before, you just figured that it wasn’t necessarily something that they’d go for. But now, the opportunity of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fucking you simultaneously has arisen, and you have never been more up for anything in your life.
“One thousand percent yes,” you say, nearly stumbling over your words in your enthusiasm. “I would love to participate. Please, yes.”
“Told you she would, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles, and you hear another thump that could be Steve punching him on the shoulder.
“Alright, then,” Steve says. “Stand up, sweetheart.”
You follow the direction, getting to your feet as they hold onto your hands for support. With your other senses on alert as your vision is obscured, you finally notice that neither of them is wearing cologne, but they’re both possibly wearing the same deodorant. With their intentions bared, it makes sense; knowing their scents like you do would be a dead giveaway. Now that you think about it, both had also been cleanly shaven, no stubble on their cheeks to give either away. Even now, you're realizing Eddie wasn't even wearing his rings.
“Strip,” Eddie commands gently.
Your shirt comes off first and you drop it to the couch, the boys humming in appreciation.
“I might need some help with this bra,” you say, feigning helplessness. “Would one of you gentleman want to give me a hand?”
At once, there’s a pair of hands at your back that unhook the clasp as another pair slips the straps from your shoulders. The boys are just as needy as you are it seems, wanting to touch you in anyway they can. If only you had been there for their conversation about you, to hear their comparisons, and how you turn each of them on. With your tits on display, you feel your nipples pebble at the thought of each one being suckled by a different mouth, a different tongue swirling over the sensitive buds.
“God, these tits,” you hear Eddie groan, and you smile.
“The shorts next?” you say with the same faux helplessness.
Someone’s fingers tug at the button and zipper of your shorts before yanking them down your legs.
“Wait,” Eddie says, “didn’t I rip those panties off of you at the carnival that one time?”
“I bought her a new pair,” Steve answers. “Those are her favorite. Also… at the carnival?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies, “we fucked on the Ferris wheel. That little mini skirt she was wearing drove me insane.”
You feel Steve pull you close, getting a gentle grip on your jaw as he directs your face to his. “We are fucking in more places, you hear me? I want to fuck you on a Ferris wheel.”
“Anywhere you want, Stevie,” you giggle, rolling onto your toes to press your mouth to his, but he doesn’t let you.
“Not yet,” he directs, pressing on your shoulders to get you onto solid footing.
You feel Eddie’s fingers grip the lacy panties you wear, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out of them. You hear him inhale deeply and you know for damn sure that Eddie just sniffed those panties.
“I’m tucking these away,” you hear him say.
“Don’t ruin those, too,” Steve replies quickly.
“Before you sit back down though,” Eddie says, changing the subject; you can hear his belt unbuckle, sliding through the loops on his jeans as he tugs it free. “We gotta make sure your hands are tucked away nice and safe so they don’t touch anything.”
“Why can’t I touch anything?” you counter, almost whiny in your inquiry.
“Well,” Eddie says, turning you around, looping his belt around your wrists, “it’s safe to say that there are definitive differences to the way me and Steve feel. Our hair feels different, our bodies feel different. You gotta remember this is a blind study and you’re not entirely blind if you can still use your hands.”
He guides you gently to the couch, making sure your hands are tucked carefully behind you. You get comfortable, listening to the rustle of their clothes as they strip, too.
“How are you that hard already?” you hear Steve gripe.
Eddie chuckles. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet.”
“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m probably wetter than I’ve ever been right now.”
“Don’t make it worse, babe,” Steve replies. “Can’t wait to get into that pussy.”
“You’re telling me,” Eddie agrees.
“Now, one of us is gonna start,” Steve explains. “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”
“How are you gonna figure out who goes first?” you say, but they’ve already gone into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissor, and you laugh. Best two out of three and they’re mum as to who won. You listen for any clues at all, anything that might give away the identity of who is about to please you, but it seems they’ve covered all their bases.
Neither of the boys speak, but you feel a hand on your knee as someone kneels before you, spreading your legs wide. The mystery man exhales before running a finger between your dewy lips, stopping to rub your clit gently.
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, relief at finally being touched warming your core.
Two fingers slide into you, slowly pumping to get you started. Your restrained hands clench behind your back, eager to touch the one touching you, but instead, you simply moan, widening your legs to give him better access.
He continues, not making a single sound but the one his fingers make pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you keen as he begins to curl his finger against your G-spot, pressing harder on your clitoris as you squirm beneath his touch; he quickens his speed, listening to your body as it nears climax. “I’m so close… oh, fuck me…”
Your cunt squeezes his fingers before releasing with an orgasm, your body twitching as ride out the high.
You haven’t even begun to come down from that one before he hitches your legs over his shoulders and leans in, his tongue lapping up the mess he made with his hands. While this may be a classic Eddie move, you’re confused by the fact that you don’t feel his hair on your thighs. He must have pulled it all back for the experiment, but there are other ways to tell that it’s him.
He always grips your thighs with his callused guitarist’s fingers, pulling them apart to fit his head between your legs. His tongue lingers in your hole, dancing with the nectar that drips from you. When he’s satisfied, he glides along to your clit, lapping with the whole tongue before teasing it with the tip. He winds you up and you writhe beneath him, whimpering as the grip of another orgasm threatens to take over.
“Fuck, yes!” you nearly shout as he doubles down, coaxing that climax from you; your body shudders, ecstasy coursing through every vein. Your thighs clench around his head, your feet scrabbling to pull him closer to you.
The mystery man - presumably Eddie - pulls away shortly after, though, taking with him a whimper from your lips as he leaves.
It's not long, though, until you feel a pair of hips bumping against your thighs, spreading them apart once again. The hard tip of a cock tickles your heat, gliding up and down before notching into your entrance. Slowly, he enters, spearing through you until he's fully seated and your chest heaves with a satisfied sigh. He stays there, stretching your pussy as his thumb presses against your clit.
"Move!" you demand, hardly able to take the anticipation of waiting. "Please, fuck me!"
At once, he rears back, almost exiting you before he slams back in again. A moan dances from your lips as he enters a rhythm, steadily splitting you wide open with every thrust. His thumb still plays with your clit, tightening the coil in your belly as he circles it. You moan again, your body bouncing as his hips slam your ass.
You wrap your legs around Eddie's waist - you'd know that slutty little waist anywhere, especially between your legs - and he responds; keeping his thumb on your clit, the rest of his hands splay out over your hips, gripping you as his rhythm quickens. You grin, knowing damn well he's close to finishing.
Your cunt throbs, so close to a climax that you can practically taste it. With just the right stroke, you burst, ecstasy spilling down to the very tips of your limbs and back before you're suddenly empty.
He strokes himself above you, trying so hard not to make a sound as he spurts onto your belly.
You lay back on the couch, your chest rising and falling with hurried breaths before he pulls away.
"Oh!" you say, surprised when the next body takes his place and bends over you, running his tongue along the mess on your skin.
Bold of Steve to do so, you wouldn't have expected it of him.
Before you can say anything, however, he presses his fingers into your pulsing heat, drawing a moan from you as he massages your g-spot. He meets your lonely clit with his finger tips, not circling like Eddie would, but keeping a steady back and forth rhythm. It isn't long before he pulls the orgasm from your writhing body, overstimulated but basking in every minute of too much ecstasy.
Steve doesn't stop, though, leaning forward and lapping at your clit. He's hungrier than usual, seemingly rushing through his usually thorough routine of getting you off. His free hand grips your thigh open, his fingertips pressing into your flesh.
"Fuck," you sigh, making to move your arms and forgetting they're tied by Eddie's belt.
Your hips press up the closer your climax comes, wriggling against Steve as he brings you to a swift orgasm.
"Give me your cock," you moan after a spell and, on command, you feel him slip inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just as much as Eddie did.
Steve is definitely impatient, not teasing you like Eddie had, but getting straight to the point; his hips slam against your ass like he'll never be able to fuck you again as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. You wrap your legs around him too, his body a little thicker than Eddie's.
"Yes," you gasp, growing closer to your next orgasm.
Like he's conditioned at this point, Steve's fingers find your clit again, pressing on it until you squeeze around him, moans dancing through the air from your mouth. He must think you can't hear him with all the noise you make, but he whimpers almost imperceptibly as he pulls out of you, his spend joining Eddie's on your tummy.
It's almost dream-like, the way your head swirls; you couldn't see a thing but your boys had you going like they've never done before.
"Okay, babes," you hear Eddie say, close to you. You feel his hands wrap around your head to relieve you of your blindfold. "There are those pretty eyes."
You blink against the light of the room, opening your eyes to see your boys head-to-toe naked, both with their hair pulled back. Eddie is standing close to Steve now, his cock hard once more. Steve's cock, on the other hand, is taking a well-deserved rest.
"Well, if I didn't know already, I definitely know now," you say with a giggle.
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie.
You point to Eddie's member. "If Eddie would've just finished he wouldn't be hard like he is right now."
Both their gazes aim for Eddie's dick.
"Okay," Eddie says, "but who was better?"
"What do you mean if you didn't know before?" Steve asks at the same time.
You sit up, allowing Eddie to remove his belt from your wrists. Steve picks up the discarded bandanna and cleans your tummy of the come.
"Eddie's a guitarist," you state simply. "His calluses gave him away almost instantly."
Eddie looks at his hands like they've betrayed him, then wraps one around his erection.
"Honestly," he says, "watching Harrington go at you was probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Not to mention, he licked my jizz off your stomach, babes."
"I was trying to throw her off," Steve says defensively. "I thought maybe she would think it was you licking my jizz."
"You want me to lick your jizz, Stevie?" Eddie teases, wiggling his tongue at him.
Steve seems to consider it for a moment before you pop in.
"The next person to say 'jizz' gets a beating. And not the fun kind."
"Seriously, though," Steve says, lowering to the couch next to you. "Who was better?"
The two look at you expectantly, each one eager to hear their name, but you can't let them have that satisfaction. A wicked grin pulls your lips toward your ears.
"Well," you say. "I can't decide."
"What?" they say together.
"We're just gonna have to keep studying, I guess."
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Single Blind Study
Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington
Word Count: 3k
Based on this prompt, originally by @stillgoingsteddie
Summary: After Steve and Eddie have discussed their fun times with the reader between themselves, they want to know who's the better lay.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Blindfolds. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V. Multiple partners.
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"What is happening exactly?" you ask, your pulse picking up as Eddie's nimble fingers tie his bandana over your eyes. "You guys weren't really all that specific when you said you wanted to hang out."
"I suppose you could call it a trust experiment," answers Steve, sitting next to you as he pats your thigh.
Eddie snorts. "Experiment is a good word for it."
"But," Steve insists, "a good chunk of this is about trust, sweets. Eddie and I have been thinking, and talking."
You chuckle. "That's never a good thing."
Eddie gives your head a gentle shove when he finishes tying the bandana, muttering an amused "smartass" under his breath.
His weight shifts on the couch as he settles in, at the same time Steve is moving forward, seemingly kneeling before you.
"Do you trust us?" he asks, his hands on either of your knees.
Your hand lands on one of his, your fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "I'll trust you more when you actually tell me what's going on. Why am I not allowed to see?"
"Okay, here's the deal," Eddie says, scooting closer to your side; you feel his warmth through his jeans, his thigh pressed against yours as Steve's hands move from your knees up to your hips. Your body tingles in response to their touches, waiting in earnest for their explanation. "Though, full disclosure, we were kinda high when we started talking about this."
You snort. "When aren't you kinda high, Eds?"
"Get to the point," Steve says impatiently, thwacking Eddie on the knee. He offers a gentle apology to you as he caught your knee with the reproach, too.
"So, we were having a conversation the other day about how you and I have done the horizontal tango before and how you and Steve have also..."
"Fucked each other's brains out," Steve finishes, his fingertips gripping into your hips for a moment.
"Oh?" is all you say.
It's no secret between the three of you that you've opened yourself up physically for them both. It all started on a boring summer day last year while you and Eddie were waiting for Steve to get home from work. The two of you started talking about past experiences, and one thing led to another. Shortly after, Steve was lamenting another failed dating attempt, and you found yourself on his lap in his car after you dropped the kids off at the arcade. Since then, whenever the fancy struck you, or Eddie, or Steve, it was a given that you'd roll around in the sack together.
The images of either one naked and writhing under you, above you, behind you, moaning your name, hands all over your body stream through your mind, tingling through your bloodstream and straight to your core.
"We started comparing notes," Eddie continues, his tone getting softer as he moves closer to you; you feel his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.
"What notes are we talking about here?" you ask.
"Things you like, things you don't like," Steve begins. "What you sound like, what you look like."
"And weirdly enough, there's a few discrepancies we noticed," Eddie says.
"Yeah, like we both know you like to fuck in public," Steve says, "but for whatever reason you and I only fuck in the car in public, but with Eddie..."
"Dressing room at JC Penney's, movie theater, in the middle of a show at the Hideout, I could go on..."
You can hear Eddie's grin as your body heats up, remembering especially the night at the Hideout where he took you up against the wall with a full crowd around you.
"Steve, do you wanna fuck in more places?" you giggle, pressing your thighs together for just a little bit of friction.
"No," he says before he grumbles. "I mean yes, but that's not the point of this conversation."
"The point is, Steve and I compared notes about you," Eddie says, "but we don't know how we compare. I would say that some of our experiences match up, but there's not enough information to tell which of us fucks you better."
"Ooohhh," you reply. "So, you want me to just tell you about it? I can do that. Don't see what the point of the blindfold is."
"Nah, sweetheart," Eddie says. "This is more of a live comparison."
It takes a second, but as soon as the idea clicks, your body floods with arousal. Your tongue slips over your lips as you imagine what's to come, and you feel your cunt squeeze in anticipation.
"Right," you say after a steadying breath, "but why the blindfold?"
You can practically hear their smiles as they each take one of your hands into theirs.
"It's a proper single blind study," Steve said. "We're taking away some factors that might influence your decision making."
“We’re gonna watch in real time,” Eddie adds. “We’re gonna watch which one of us makes you feel better.”
Heat floods your body, the pulsing between your legs ticking up exponentially. Your heart pounds at the thought; you’ve never had both of them at the same time. Not that you’d never thought about it before, you just figured that it wasn’t necessarily something that they’d go for. But now, the opportunity of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fucking you simultaneously has arisen, and you have never been more up for anything in your life.
“One thousand percent yes,” you say, nearly stumbling over your words in your enthusiasm. “I would love to participate. Please, yes.”
“Told you she would, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles, and you hear another thump that could be Steve punching him on the shoulder.
“Alright, then,” Steve says. “Stand up, sweetheart.”
You follow the direction, getting to your feet as they hold onto your hands for support. With your other senses on alert as your vision is obscured, you finally notice that neither of them is wearing cologne, but they’re both possibly wearing the same deodorant. With their intentions bared, it makes sense; knowing their scents like you do would be a dead giveaway. Now that you think about it, both had also been cleanly shaven, no stubble on their cheeks to give either away. Even now, you're realizing Eddie wasn't even wearing his rings.
“Strip,” Eddie commands gently.
Your shirt comes off first and you drop it to the couch, the boys humming in appreciation.
“I might need some help with this bra,” you say, feigning helplessness. “Would one of you gentleman want to give me a hand?”
At once, there’s a pair of hands at your back that unhook the clasp as another pair slips the straps from your shoulders. The boys are just as needy as you are it seems, wanting to touch you in anyway they can. If only you had been there for their conversation about you, to hear their comparisons, and how you turn each of them on. With your tits on display, you feel your nipples pebble at the thought of each one being suckled by a different mouth, a different tongue swirling over the sensitive buds.
“God, these tits,” you hear Eddie groan, and you smile.
“The shorts next?” you say with the same faux helplessness.
Someone’s fingers tug at the button and zipper of your shorts before yanking them down your legs.
“Wait,” Eddie says, “didn’t I rip those panties off of you at the carnival that one time?”
“I bought her a new pair,” Steve answers. “Those are her favorite. Also… at the carnival?”
“Yeah,” Eddie replies, “we fucked on the Ferris wheel. That little mini skirt she was wearing drove me insane.”
You feel Steve pull you close, getting a gentle grip on your jaw as he directs your face to his. “We are fucking in more places, you hear me? I want to fuck you on a Ferris wheel.”
“Anywhere you want, Stevie,” you giggle, rolling onto your toes to press your mouth to his, but he doesn’t let you.
“Not yet,” he directs, pressing on your shoulders to get you onto solid footing.
You feel Eddie’s fingers grip the lacy panties you wear, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out of them. You hear him inhale deeply and you know for damn sure that Eddie just sniffed those panties.
“I’m tucking these away,” you hear him say.
“Don’t ruin those, too,” Steve replies quickly.
“Before you sit back down though,” Eddie says, changing the subject; you can hear his belt unbuckle, sliding through the loops on his jeans as he tugs it free. “We gotta make sure your hands are tucked away nice and safe so they don’t touch anything.”
“Why can’t I touch anything?” you counter, almost whiny in your inquiry.
“Well,” Eddie says, turning you around, looping his belt around your wrists, “it’s safe to say that there are definitive differences to the way me and Steve feel. Our hair feels different, our bodies feel different. You gotta remember this is a blind study and you’re not entirely blind if you can still use your hands.”
He guides you gently to the couch, making sure your hands are tucked carefully behind you. You get comfortable, listening to the rustle of their clothes as they strip, too.
“How are you that hard already?” you hear Steve gripe.
Eddie chuckles. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet.”
“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m probably wetter than I’ve ever been right now.”
“Don’t make it worse, babe,” Steve replies. “Can’t wait to get into that pussy.”
“You’re telling me,” Eddie agrees.
“Now, one of us is gonna start,” Steve explains. “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”
“How are you gonna figure out who goes first?” you say, but they’ve already gone into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissor, and you laugh. Best two out of three and they’re mum as to who won. You listen for any clues at all, anything that might give away the identity of who is about to please you, but it seems they’ve covered all their bases.
Neither of the boys speak, but you feel a hand on your knee as someone kneels before you, spreading your legs wide. The mystery man exhales before running a finger between your dewy lips, stopping to rub your clit gently.
“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, relief at finally being touched warming your core.
Two fingers slide into you, slowly pumping to get you started. Your restrained hands clench behind your back, eager to touch the one touching you, but instead, you simply moan, widening your legs to give him better access.
He continues, not making a single sound but the one his fingers make pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you keen as he begins to curl his finger against your G-spot, pressing harder on your clitoris as you squirm beneath his touch; he quickens his speed, listening to your body as it nears climax. “I’m so close… oh, fuck me…”
Your cunt squeezes his fingers before releasing with an orgasm, your body twitching as ride out the high.
You haven’t even begun to come down from that one before he hitches your legs over his shoulders and leans in, his tongue lapping up the mess he made with his hands. While this may be a classic Eddie move, you’re confused by the fact that you don’t feel his hair on your thighs. He must have pulled it all back for the experiment, but there are other ways to tell that it’s him.
He always grips your thighs with his callused guitarist’s fingers, pulling them apart to fit his head between your legs. His tongue lingers in your hole, dancing with the nectar that drips from you. When he’s satisfied, he glides along to your clit, lapping with the whole tongue before teasing it with the tip. He winds you up and you writhe beneath him, whimpering as the grip of another orgasm threatens to take over.
“Fuck, yes!” you nearly shout as he doubles down, coaxing that climax from you; your body shudders, ecstasy coursing through every vein. Your thighs clench around his head, your feet scrabbling to pull him closer to you.
The mystery man - presumably Eddie - pulls away shortly after, though, taking with him a whimper from your lips as he leaves.
It's not long, though, until you feel a pair of hips bumping against your thighs, spreading them apart once again. The hard tip of a cock tickles your heat, gliding up and down before notching into your entrance. Slowly, he enters, spearing through you until he's fully seated and your chest heaves with a satisfied sigh. He stays there, stretching your pussy as his thumb presses against your clit.
"Move!" you demand, hardly able to take the anticipation of waiting. "Please, fuck me!"
At once, he rears back, almost exiting you before he slams back in again. A moan dances from your lips as he enters a rhythm, steadily splitting you wide open with every thrust. His thumb still plays with your clit, tightening the coil in your belly as he circles it. You moan again, your body bouncing as his hips slam your ass.
You wrap your legs around Eddie's waist - you'd know that slutty little waist anywhere, especially between your legs - and he responds; keeping his thumb on your clit, the rest of his hands splay out over your hips, gripping you as his rhythm quickens. You grin, knowing damn well he's close to finishing.
Your cunt throbs, so close to a climax that you can practically taste it. With just the right stroke, you burst, ecstasy spilling down to the very tips of your limbs and back before you're suddenly empty.
He strokes himself above you, trying so hard not to make a sound as he spurts onto your belly.
You lay back on the couch, your chest rising and falling with hurried breaths before he pulls away.
"Oh!" you say, surprised when the next body takes his place and bends over you, running his tongue along the mess on your skin.
Bold of Steve to do so, you wouldn't have expected it of him.
Before you can say anything, however, he presses his fingers into your pulsing heat, drawing a moan from you as he massages your g-spot. He meets your lonely clit with his finger tips, not circling like Eddie would, but keeping a steady back and forth rhythm. It isn't long before he pulls the orgasm from your writhing body, overstimulated but basking in every minute of too much ecstasy.
Steve doesn't stop, though, leaning forward and lapping at your clit. He's hungrier than usual, seemingly rushing through his usually thorough routine of getting you off. His free hand grips your thigh open, his fingertips pressing into your flesh.
"Fuck," you sigh, making to move your arms and forgetting they're tied by Eddie's belt.
Your hips press up the closer your climax comes, wriggling against Steve as he brings you to a swift orgasm.
"Give me your cock," you moan after a spell and, on command, you feel him slip inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just as much as Eddie did.
Steve is definitely impatient, not teasing you like Eddie had, but getting straight to the point; his hips slam against your ass like he'll never be able to fuck you again as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. You wrap your legs around him too, his body a little thicker than Eddie's.
"Yes," you gasp, growing closer to your next orgasm.
Like he's conditioned at this point, Steve's fingers find your clit again, pressing on it until you squeeze around him, moans dancing through the air from your mouth. He must think you can't hear him with all the noise you make, but he whimpers almost imperceptibly as he pulls out of you, his spend joining Eddie's on your tummy.
It's almost dream-like, the way your head swirls; you couldn't see a thing but your boys had you going like they've never done before.
"Okay, babes," you hear Eddie say, close to you. You feel his hands wrap around your head to relieve you of your blindfold. "There are those pretty eyes."
You blink against the light of the room, opening your eyes to see your boys head-to-toe naked, both with their hair pulled back. Eddie is standing close to Steve now, his cock hard once more. Steve's cock, on the other hand, is taking a well-deserved rest.
"Well, if I didn't know already, I definitely know now," you say with a giggle.
"What do you mean?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie.
You point to Eddie's member. "If Eddie would've just finished he wouldn't be hard like he is right now."
Both their gazes aim for Eddie's dick.
"Okay," Eddie says, "but who was better?"
"What do you mean if you didn't know before?" Steve asks at the same time.
You sit up, allowing Eddie to remove his belt from your wrists. Steve picks up the discarded bandanna and cleans your tummy of the come.
"Eddie's a guitarist," you state simply. "His calluses gave him away almost instantly."
Eddie looks at his hands like they've betrayed him, then wraps one around his erection.
"Honestly," he says, "watching Harrington go at you was probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Not to mention, he licked my jizz off your stomach, babes."
"I was trying to throw her off," Steve says defensively. "I thought maybe she would think it was you licking my jizz."
"You want me to lick your jizz, Stevie?" Eddie teases, wiggling his tongue at him.
Steve seems to consider it for a moment before you pop in.
"The next person to say 'jizz' gets a beating. And not the fun kind."
"Seriously, though," Steve says, lowering to the couch next to you. "Who was better?"
The two look at you expectantly, each one eager to hear their name, but you can't let them have that satisfaction. A wicked grin pulls your lips toward your ears.
"Well," you say. "I can't decide."
"What?" they say together.
"We're just gonna have to keep studying, I guess."
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Father Paul:
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watch you want me
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gif by gil-rizzo ^ plot: you want to watch steve get his rocks up without touching him at all content warnings: graphic language, masturbation, voyeurism (reader watches ooh), dirty talk, all the good things word count: a/n: had a visceral dream about this and could not stop thinking about it all day send smutty steve asks pleeeease!
“You don’t wanna, like, touch me or anything? You just want to watch?”
You bite your lip, almost too horny to be embarrassed. “Yeah. I think it’d be hot.”
It’s mid-morning. A rare moment where both of your schedules result on a day off for the two of you, but you were basking in it. Laying in bed all morning, falling in and out and back into sleep, adjusting into different cuddling positions until you finally decided to wake up. And even when you did, you just spent the time talking and laughing with your head resting on his bare chest. Eventually the conversation drifted into bored fantasies, drawing your finger over his chest and twirling the small hairs ever-so-softly. “Well are you at least gonna touch yourself?” Steve’s eyes dot down your body for just a second. You’re wearing a white tank top and a pair of his boxers that hug your curves perfectly. It’s his favorite outfit on you.
“Mm-mm,” You hum as you shake your head, fluttering your eyelashes at him.
Steve sighs, “Okay, I mean, it couldn’t hurt, right?”
You chuckle at his awkwardness, then peel yourself off of him to rest your head in your hand, elbow propped up on the pillow next to him. He adjusts his stature, relaxing himself into place.
“Do- Do I just,” He waves his hand around, as if he’s never jerked off before. You grip his wrist and guide it down under the sheets, where his bare cock rests flaccid. He often slept naked, swears by its comfortability but given how many times you two have fucked in the morning, you assumed it was for accessibility reasons. Less fabric to get out of the way.
When you see him grip himself, you let go, arm resting on your side. He starts slow, just sort of rubbing himself until he’s half hard. You grow impatient, gripping his wrist again until his hand rests below your chin.
Your eyes stare back at him as he watches you drop a wad of spit into his palm. He’s instantly erect, licking his lips and clenching his thighs. “That’s all the help you’re getting from me, Harrington.” You say as you wipe your lip.
He swallows, lowering his hand once more. The new slick of his fingers does wonders, moving his hand up and down his cock with a steady pace. “What’re you thinking about?” You casually bring the hem of his bed sheet down to his mid-thighs, giving yourself the full view of his strokes.
“Mm, your tits.” He’s already panting.
You anchor your fingers around the neckline of your tank top, lowering the shirt so just enough cleavage protrudes. “Oh, you mean these?” You lightly rub one of your nipples through the fabric.
“Mm hm, yeah.” He’s so incoherent, which makes you only want to get more words out of him. You want to know what dirty thoughts find their way into his brain when he’s at his most vulnerable.
“What would you do with them? If you could touch me…”
“Put them in my mouth, your perfect fucking tits. I’d— I’d suck on your nipple, put my hands all over you. Fuck.” His strokes are a little faster now. You can see a spurt of pre-cum drip down his cock, and you have to hold back your own hunger to suck on the mushroom tip until it turns red. You can practically taste him.
“What if I fucked you with them, hm?” Your voice has gone soft and seductive. “Put your fat cock between my tits and let you fuck them until you came all over my face?”
“Yea…” He whispers, eyes darting between your own eyes and the nipple that you’re pinching between your fingers. These lovely hums keep coming from his throat.
“Will you come for me, Steve? Will you let me watch you cum over that perfect torso of yours?” Your fulling massaging your tits now, feeling a warmth in your core that aches to be filled for him.
“I wanna cum for you so bad, fuck.” His strokes are even faster. “Are you wet?”
“God, I’m soaking, Harrington. I want you to fuck me so bad.” You can’t help but bring your hand down to where his boxers meet your vulva, pushing against the fabric until you feel the cotton against your clit. You lean forward, your lips against his ear. You can see his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps, breathing shallow and desperate.
“Imagine how it feels to fuck me, Steve. Imagine my cunt is squeezing and throbbing against your cock as you fuck me into oblivion. Legs shaking around your hips, cumming and cumming and cumming as you keep fucking me. Whining and moaning into your ear.” You lick his lobe, and he grunts sweetly as his brows curve upward in pleasure.
Your speech blurs into moans, almost pornographically spelling it out for him as if he’s fucking you right now. “Mm, you feel so good inside, Stevie. Fuck, it hurts. Cumming over and over again as you pump your big fucking cock inside of me. But don’t stop, baby, please don’t stop. I wanna cry over how good your cock feels, mm-hm,”
His mouth is agape, eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm approaches. “I-I’m gonna cum, oh god, I’m cumming.” His voice reaches an octave only reserved in these visceral moments of pleasure.
“Cum for me, baby. I wanna see you cum.” You whisper one last time. He groans as his cock spills cum down his hand and onto his happy trail. His shoulders tense and twitch, his neck tense with veins protruding. “God, fuck…” He moans, keeping his hand tight around the tip until the last drip gushes out.
You rub his chest firmly, a proud smile plastered onto your face as his body relaxes next to you. “That was so good, Stevie.”
He sighs, hand falling onto his hip and head tilting lazily toward you. Your nipples are still hard under your shirt. “Can we do you now?”
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THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER 1x04 “The Black Cat”
Ruth Codd as JUNO USHER
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Casual
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Summary: When did being friends with benefits with Steve Harrington get so complicated? Probably when your "no strings attached" relationship suddenly had strings.
Note: Loosely based on the song Casual by Chappell Roan. I slowly wrote this over the past month or so which is why it took so long. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: 18+, No use of y/n, language, friends with benefits to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), angst, jealousy.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x reader
Word count: 11.3k+
Knee deep in the passenger seat
The buzz of the evening air filled the car, prickling your skin with each passing second. Or maybe that was the A/C that Steve had on full blast, cooling the cramped car to an uncomfortable degree. Without a second thought, you reached forward, fingers finding the dial that would alleviate the shivers raking your body. But Steve’s hand shot out, swatting away your futile attempts to not freeze to death in the passenger seat.
“What the hell, Steve?” you shot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest and unknowingly pushing up your breasts in the process, drawing Steve’s not-so-subtle gaze. In all honesty, Steve was cold too. Sure, it was summer in Hawkins and the sweltering heat and humidity bogged down the heavy air, but his car was a cool 66°F. 
“I’m sweating over here, sweetheart,” Steve shrugged, placing his hand back on the steering wheel. He was lying of course, but he couldn’t tell you that he wanted the A/C on so he could continue to catch glimpses of your pebbled nipples poking against the thin fabric of your tank top. He especially couldn’t say that because Eddie and Robin were in the backseat, a fact he had entirely forgotten until their muffled conversation rose dramatically in volume.
“And then they found that old guy’s fucking bones,” Eddie practically shouted with excitement, and your brow furrowed. Robin echoed Eddie’s statement, sharing the same elation regarding their conversation topic, which only confused you more. You turned in your seat, curious to know what the hell you had missed between them during your battle with Steve and the air conditioner. But then the car jerked to the left entering Forest Hills trailer park, and you knew you’d never find out.
The car halted in front of Eddie’s trailer, causing your body to jerk forward at the sudden stop. You let out a groan in response and were met with Steve’s cruel cackle. Meanwhile, Eddie tumbled out of the backseat into his front lawn and Robin followed suit on the other side.
“Wait, Rob,” you called, quickly rolling your window down so she could actually hear you. “I thought we were dropping you off?”
“Change of plans. I promised Max that we’d go through her comic collection so I’m just gonna crash at her place tonight,” Robin pointed over her shoulder and you spotted the mess of fiery red hair watching from the window. You nodded and exchanged a quick goodbye as Robin strolled over to Max’s front door. You watched her retreating figure, but it was soon blocked by Eddie ripping the passenger door open and hastily grabbing your cheek before placing a sloppy kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“Dude,” you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, trying to rid yourself of any trace of Eddie’s saliva. Eddie’s eyes flickered over your shoulder to land on Steve. He watched the fire ignite in Steve’s eyes, the flames encasing his pupils at the stretch of Eddie’s smirk.
“C’mon, princess. You know you want me,” Eddie winked at you and you pushed him away from the car with a laugh. He stumbled back a few steps, regaining his balance as you pulled the car door shut. 
“In your dreams, Munson,” you shot him a smile as Steve began driving off, leaving Eddie to watch as the car pulled away. He stood content, knowing he’d accomplished his mission to rile Steve up. You rolled up the window and turned to Steve, expecting his expression to reflect the amusement you felt as a result of Eddie’s antics. 
But Steve, ever so unpredictable, had never been one to conform to your expectations before. His face appeared hardened, like it was set in stone as his white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tightly. He kept his gaze on the road as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere, particularly at you.
The silence grew heavy within the car, only elevating the tension that blossomed seemingly out of nowhere. Steve was driving too fast and you wanted to tell him to slow down but he spoke before you could.
“You like it when Munson kisses you?” his tone was harsh and cold like you were his worst enemy rather than his friend of many years. But you’d known Steve long enough to understand where this was coming from. He was jealous, though he’d never ever admit it, not to himself and most certainly not to you. Despite his insistence to keep things casual between you and him, he was quite good at blurring the line.
“Steve, I’d hardly call that a kiss,” you scoffed, already knowing that this was an argument in the making. Steve was silent, knots forming in his tensed shoulders as he continued driving. “And what does it matter? You made out with Stacy Townsend last week. It's not like we're dating, Steve,” you huffed and the car quickly turned off the main road into a shaded grove, away from any prying eyes. 
Steve practically threw the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt so quickly you could’ve gotten whiplash. He exited the car, rounding the back and appearing at your door before you could even turn in your seat to track his motion. Steve tore the door open, leaning down and reaching between your legs. Your breath stopped at the feeling of his arm brushing against your thighs, but you quickly realized he was simply adjusting the seat to push it all the way back.
“What are you-” you began but quickly stopped as Steve occupied the space in front of you. His knees rested on the carpeted floor of his car as his back brushed against the glove box. There was enough room for him to comfortably rest between your open legs as he swung the door shut, trapping you in the confines of his presence.
“Is he a good kisser?” Steve asked, the traces of jealousy still ever so present in his tone, but there was something else too. Something deeper and more lustful that almost helped to outweigh the annoyance you felt in the moments prior. You knew to play along, follow Steve’s prompts, and adapt to the scenario.
“He’s pretty good, Stevie. Might want to kiss him again,” you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and you watched Steve’s gaze trace over you. He once again found the outline of your peaked nipples, teasing him in the car’s cool atmosphere. Steve couldn’t help himself, letting his fingers trail up your chest, tracing over your nipples once he finally reached them.
“Is he better than me?” Steve asked, relishing in the soft sign that escaped you at the brush of his fingers over your clothed skin. He knew your body like the back of his hand at this point, giving him some control over you.
“He might be,” you refused to give in, knowing Steve would give you what you want regardless. But Steve understood you in the same way that you did him, and he expected that you’d play hard to get, which only made it more fun for him. One of his hands dropped, reaching for the hem of your tank top and pulling it up above your breasts, leaving them on display for him. 
Steve resumed his teasing to your left nipple, gently circling it with his thumb. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours as his lips met your breast, placing slow open-mouthed kisses on your soft flesh. After leaving a few marks he brought his mouth to your nipple, gently pecking it with his soft lips before placing a bruising kiss on it in a way that made you gasp in pleasure.
“Fuck,” you moaned as Steve’s teeth grazed your sensitive skin. His eyes never left yours, drinking in the sight of you slowly unraveling at the feel of his lips. Steve trailed his kisses lower, expanding over your torso and down to the waistband of your skirt.
His hands caressed your thighs, parting them even wider than before while he hiked your skirt up your hips. The lace of your panties now sat exposed to Steve as his hungry eyes roamed over the fabric.
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” Steve spoke with a smirk, his breath fanning over your lap, warming your cunt in a way that made you squirm. “Just leave that for Munson since he’s such a better kisser,” confidence and cockiness dripped from Steve’s voice like honey. He moved to pull your skirt back down, anticipating your pleas to continue. Luckily for him, you conceded.
“No, Steve. Please,” you begged, hand shooting out to stop him. And that was all he needed before he was pulling your panties from your legs and tossing them somewhere in the backseat. You were sure you’d never see them again. Steve placed a gentle kiss on your clit before licking your entrance to make you squirm. As if it were pure instinct, your hand shot out, gripping the soft locks of Steve’s hair.
That motivated him to really dive in, being more purposeful in the swipe of his tongue through your folds. Steve relished in the sound of your moans, the way your hips slid against the seat to meet his mouth, and how you threw your head back when his nose nudged your clit. Quite frankly, Steve had never been a big fan of eating girls out until he started hooking up with you. There was something about the way you reacted to the flick of his tongue that ended in him cumming in his pants on more than one occasion.
“So close, Stevie,” the breathy tone of your voice encouraged Steve further as he abandoned your entrance. His lips attached firmly to your clit, letting his teeth graze your sensitive bud as he sucked on it. Your chest was heaving at that point, tits jiggling with each heaving breath, and the sight had Steve palming himself through his jean shorts. And suddenly it was all too much for you as Steve’s tongue flicked wildly over your clit. 
Your thighs shook around Steve’s head while your fingers dug deep into his scalp and you came undone. Steve lapped at your entrance, licking up every last bit of your slick before finally pulling back with a labored breath. He leaned up on his knees, admiring how fucked out you looked. It was his favorite way to see you. Steve placed a fervent kiss on your lips, encapsulating all of the passion that flowed through you both at that moment.
“So who’s the better kisser now?” Steve whispered against your lips as a smirk tugged the corners of his mouth. You scoffed, pushing him gently away from you and pulling your skirt back down. It was impossible to keep the smile from your lips though, especially when Steve got up from the footwell of the car and you saw the wet spot on the crotch of his shorts. 
He got back in the driver’s seat and brought the car back to life. This time you welcomed the harsh blast of the A/C given the sticky heat between your legs and the warm air that now filled the fogged-up car. Steve drove you home, stopping in front of your driveway to let you out. He placed a quick peck on your lips before letting you out, leaving you to walk back to your front door. You stopped just before the entrance, turning to get one last look at the maroon BMW before disappearing into your house. The taste of yourself and Steve’s arrogance still lingered on the tip of your tongue as you watched him drive off into the dark summer night.
You said “Baby, no attachment”
“Jesus, this place is packed,” Eddie spoke beside you, his grip tight on his black lunch box. He’d dragged you to some house party so he could have company while he dealt. But you’d tagged along with Eddie to one too many parties to know that he’d soon disappear behind a wall of letterman jackets that he’d overcharged for weed simply because he could. You only agreed to go because of the promise of free booze.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” you shouted over the blaring music that ricocheted off the walls in the crowded living room. Eddie nodded, already being pulled away by someone looking to buy from him. You struggled your way through the sea of people to the closed-off kitchen, settling on whatever liquor you deemed the strongest. It was then that you saw him. Steve’s perfectly styled hair framed his face as he leaned down to whisper something into the ear of some very tipsy blonde across the room. 
“Figures,” you scoffed under your breath, tilting your cup to your lips and ingesting its bitter contents. Steve hadn’t told you he was coming to the party, likely because he was determined to find a one-night stand or come crawling to you if he struck out. It wouldn’t be the first time. 
You refilled your now empty cup before departing the kitchen and shimming your way onto the makeshift dance floor in the living room. A slight buzz already consumed you, diminishing any worried thoughts, particularly about a certain brown-haired boy.
Someone in a letterman jacket approached you, matching your movements with a shy smile. His name was Marcus, one of the nicer basketball players from your graduating class. Letting the alcohol control you, you threw your arms over his shoulders, careful not to spill your drink. You pulled him close, pressing yourself flush against him and moving to the beat of the music. Marcus was cute, flushed red as his hands snaked around to land on your hips.
As you got lost in the ocean blue of Marcus’s eyes, you remained oblivious to the sudden drawl of Steve’s attention as he stumbled into the room. Steve’s stare lingered over your figure, the press of your breasts against Marcus’s chest, the trail of his fingers as they inched towards the hem of your skirt. Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from you, brushing off whatever girl he’d been trying to bed and stalking in your direction.
Marcus’s lips hovered over yours, tempting you with each passing breath. Finally, sick of the teasing, you used your free hand to pull his neck down, effectively closing the gap. He tasted like bubblegum and Coca-Cola, and it became clear to you then that he hadn’t been drinking. You weren’t some drunken conquest to him, just a girl he wanted to dance with.
You pulled back at the revelation, feeling a little guilty for assuming all the boy in front of you wanted was a drunken hookup. But you didn’t have much time to think about it because Steve came barreling over from across the room.
“Marcus,” he spoke simply, eyeing the boy up and down. They had been teammates at one point, but now in Steve’s mind, they were mortal enemies. He wasn’t sure why he felt so jealous considering he’s the one who insisted on being friends with benefits and nothing more. But there was no time to dwell on that.
“Hi, Steve. How have you been?” Marcus asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the growing tension between the three of you. You stood like a deer in headlights, watching and waiting for the tornado to touch down, the hurricane to make landfall, Steve to do something stupid.
“I’m doing great. Mind if I borrow her?” Steve brushed off Marcus’s attempts at friendly conversation, gesturing to you and grabbing ahold of your arm to drag you away before Marcus could even answer. It wasn’t exactly the stupid gesture you thought it would be, more like fists thrown and punches landed, but it still annoyed you just as much.
“What the hell are you doing?” you finally wiggled out of Steve’s grasp as he took you out the front door. You set down the cup that had previously occupied your hand before whipping around angrily to meet Steve’s gaze.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, staring you down as if he were a parent scolding his disobedient child. 
“It’s a party, Steve. I’m partying,” you rolled your eyes, your voice deadpan as the heat of your rage mixed with the hot summer air. Steve scoffed, moving across the front porch to stand in front of you.
“You know what I mean, sweetheart. What were you doing with Marcus?” Steve’s breath fanned your face, doing nothing to help cool you in your overheated state.
“Whatever I want. You and I aren’t dating, remember?” you gestured between the two of you. Suddenly you felt like you’d been backed into a corner. Steve’s body inched closer to yours, encompassing you against the house’s siding, trapping you with nowhere to go. Partygoers came and went as they pleased, not sparing a passing glance your way as Steve cornered you. For a moment you let yourself get pulled into his allure, succumbing to his overwhelmingly dominant charm.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To have me all to yourself? Then you wouldn’t have to hook up with other guys to try and make me jealous,” Steve’s lips ghosted over yours in the way that always left you whining for more. But something stopped you.
“Wait,” you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back to give you space. “You think I kissed Marcus to make you jealous?” you asked a very confused Steve as you deliberately ignored the fact that he had admitted to being jealous. Steve’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what he said wrong.
“Yeah, why else would you have kissed him?” Steve countered, pulling back from you naturally, allowing more space to blossom between you.
“You’re unbelievable,” you stated, anger boiling up beneath the surface and scorching your skin. “Not everything is about you, dickhead,” you pushed past him, heading back towards the front door, desperately in need of another drink after this. But Steve’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm for a second time that evening. His grip was softer this time, free of the possessive fury that drove him earlier.
“That was shitty. I’m sorry,” he rushed out, dropping the overconfident demeanor. In the complicated web of your relationship, it was often difficult to remember what you truly were: friends. And now, before you, stood a friend who genuinely felt bad for making everything about him. 
“That was really shitty,” you spoke fiercely, still unmoved with Steve’s grip on your arm. “Apology accepted,” you caved, and Steve dropped his hand, ignoring the sudden cold that filled his palm in the absence of his skin on yours.
“Can we just forget about this and go back inside?” Steve asked and you responded with a nod, already halfway to the door. The party was even more crowded than before, making it far more difficult to find Marcus. “Shit,” Steve muttered beside you, pulling your gaze in the same direction as his.
Across the living room on the makeshift dance floor was the blonde girl Steve had been chatting up earlier. A wicked grin spread across your lips as you watched her sloppily suck face with some dude who was sure to be holding back her hair later while she spilled her guts into a toilet. You stifled a laugh, pulling Steve’s attention away from the blonde and back to you.
“See what happens when you meddle in my love life,” you patted him on the shoulder, his frown only making it harder to contain your laughter.
“Yeah, well I don’t see Marcus anywhere. Maybe he’s got some girl holed up in a room somewhere,” he pointed over his shoulder to the hallway of locked bedroom doors. He wanted to make you feel how he felt at that moment like he was the last kid picked for the kickball team. Undesired. Not that it could possibly be true though, because there was always one person who would always want you, even though he’d never admit it.
“Whatever, I’m getting another drink,” you brushed him off, already making your way through the packed room to burst through the kitchen door. You entered the kitchen, unexpectedly bumping into a solid chest clad in orange, white, and green. Marcus.
“Hey, where’d you and Harrington run off to earlier?” he asked, fingers brushing your arms as he steadied you.
“Sorry about that. Steve was having some girl trouble and needed advice,” you lied, though somehow not entirely. Marcus gave you a soft smile with a nod of understanding. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?” you asked, hoping you didn’t scare off the shy, sweet boy before you. 
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he smiled and you couldn’t help but beam back up at him. You led him back through the throngs of people, passed Eddie who gave you a thumbs up at the sight of Marcus’s hand wrapped around yours, and out the front door.
On the porch steps sat a very deflated Steve, smoking what you were sure wasn’t a cigarette. You told Marcus you’d meet him by his car before sitting down next to Steve.
“Rough night?” you asked as if it was your first time seeing him that evening. He played along with your game though, something he always did.
“You could say that. Think a girl is gonna go home with you and then she’s mackin’ on some other dude,” he blew smoke from his lips, the skunky scent filling the air around you. “Still got you though. What do you say? I can take you back to mine and rock your world, sweetheart,” he wagged his eyebrows at you, his goofy nature peeking through.
It always surprised you how drastically different he could be with you. One minute he’d have you pinned against a wall with his tongue down your throat and the next he’d crack a joke and flub the punchline. The duality of man it seems, or maybe just Steve.
“Sorry, Stevie. I’ve already got a ride,” you pointed towards Marcus who stood leaning up against his car, awaiting your arrival back to his open arms. “See you tomorrow?” you stood, patting him on the knee, and began your trek across the lawn. Steve mumbled out a response, watching as you approached Marcus. 
Upon your arrival, Marcus took you in his arms, placed a soft kiss on your lips, and opened the passenger door for you. Steve watched as you waved to him through the car window, taking another drag from the joint between his fingertips. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling so empty, so complicated when he thought he was devoid of love. But he knew as the taillights disappeared into the dark summer night, that something sparked within him. The lack of strings involved in no strings attached had suddenly appeared and become tangled together.
Dream of us in a year
The cardboard box weighed heavy in your hands as you exited the elevator. Sneakers squeaked against the linoleum floors as you traveled down the hall, stopping in front of a door labeled 217. Your hands fumbled with the handle, struggling to keep the box from falling as you tried to open the door. 
It swung open, revealing a floppy-haired Steve with his sleeves rolled up behind it. He was a year older now, stubble shadowing his upper lip while shallow wrinkles had already started to line his forehead. He grabbed the box from your hands and moved inside, setting it down in the apartment’s living room. You took a moment to look around, taking in the freshly painted walls and soft carpeted floors.
“Can you believe we’ve got this whole place to ourselves?” Steve came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, breathing in the scent of your perfume. Lavender and vanilla.
“You say that as if Eddie, Robin, and the kids won’t constantly be in and out of here,” you spoke, spinning around to face Steve. Steve shrugged, a smirk cresting his lips.
“Not if we don’t give them a key,” Steve asserted, evoking a laugh from you, throwing your head back as the sound spilled from your lips. As if they’d let you and Steve have your own apartment without giving them easy access to it too. Steve took advantage of your thrown-back head and placed his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat.
“Steve,” you groaned, stuck between wanting him to continue and needing to keep moving your belongings into your new apartment. But Steve continued his attack on your neck, licking over the fresh bruises he painted across your skin.
“C’mon, baby. We’ll have to christen this place at some point. Why not now?” Steve spoke against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He pushed you back, your body softly colliding with the end of the kitchen counter.
“We’ve still got boxes to bring up,” you answered in heavy, panting breaths. Steve’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his lips traveling to yours in a bruising heat. He was weakening your resolve by the second.
“You really want to stop, then we’ll stop,” Steve stated, pulling back from your lips. He was calling your bluff, you knew that. But your lips missed his and you suddenly felt so cold without his body pressed to yours. So you caved.
“Fuck it, we’ll get ‘em later,” you pulled Steve back in, crashing your lips back together. Steve’s hand drifted from its place on your cheek, moving down your body. He stopped at your breast, giving it a squeeze, before moving down to your shorts.
In one fell swoop, Steve pulled your shorts and panties down your legs and replaced the cloth of your underwear with his fingertips. He brushed against your wet folds, coating his fingers in your juices. A whimper slipped from within you, Steve’s teasing only arousing you more.
He finally slipped a finger in and curled it. Your knees buckled, hands gripping the cool granite countertop to hold you steady.
“Shit, Steve. Feels so good,” he continued his motion, adding another finger. You could feel the tension building within you like a rubber band threatening to snap. You just got to the edge when…
You startled awake, abruptly sitting up and slamming the side of your head into something.
“Ah fuck, that hurt,” you said, rubbing the aching spot and leaning back into the couch.
“You’re telling me,” Steve said from beside you, also touching his head in pain. You’d fallen asleep on his shoulder and slammed your head into his when you snapped awake.
“Sorry, had a weird dream,” you apologized before directing your attention back to the movie you’d been watching before you fell asleep.
“Yeah? What was it about,” Steve prodded, trying to pull your focus back to him. He was clearly just as bored with whatever movie was playing as you had been.
“I, uh, don’t really remember,” you lied poorly, keeping your eyes off of Steve. It felt weird to face him after your dream. It made you feel guilty like your subconscious wanted your relationship with Steve to be more than what it was.
“Liar,” Steve concluded after studying your avoidant gaze. He inched closer, his body turned towards you in his spot on the couch. “You had a sex dream,” he accused and your head snapped in his direction. Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed what Steve had already guessed. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed with a smile on his face.
“Nope. No. I didn’t have a sex dream,” you denied but Steve was already ignoring you, lost in a slew of his own thoughts.
“You had a sex dream while sleeping on my shoulder. Should I be flattered or offended? Well, I’d be flattered if it was about me. Was it about me?” Steve rambled, ignoring your protests. Once again, your avoidant eyes told Steve everything he needed to know.
“So what? We’ve had actual sex. What’s it matter if I dreamed about it?” you spoke defensively once you realized there was no point in hiding the truth. In the heat of the moment, you hadn’t realized that your body now faced Steve.
“Nothing wrong with it, babe. Just wish you’d told me sooner. We could already be working on making your dream a reality,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning a chuckle in response. Steve leaned in, his body hovering over yours, lips just a breath away from touching.
“No thanks, Stevie,” you pushed him back playfully, knowing he’d be back on you in a second. Just as you expected he moved back in, closing any distance between you.
“Don’t dream it, be it,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“Don't you dare quote Rocky Horror at me right now,” you scolded Steve with a smile, one that he reflected back at you.
“Let me kiss you then,” he spoke softly, tenderly, like it was his biggest desire. You melted, feeling some form of intimacy that rarely reared its head during your hookups with Steve. The walls between you fell down, allowing Steve’s lips to meet yours. 
It was soft, gentler than he’d ever kissed you before. As if a switch had been flipped within you both, the lust and desire that had been building for months finally reached its peak and spilled out from each of your lips.
Steve’s knee came up between your thighs, adding the friction you desperately needed after the combination of your dream and his kiss. You pulled apart for a second so you could take off your top and bra, your eyes refusing to leave Steve’s as you did. 
You laid flat on your back, extending an open invitation for Steve to swoop in. His gaze on you was hungry and lustful, but it was also something else, something different than it ever had been before. If you didn’t know any better you'd think the look in his eyes was love.
Steve followed suit, removing his own shirt and shimming out of his pants and boxers. He pulled your shorts and panties from your legs, staring open-mouthed at your exposed core. Your dream already had your folds coated in desire, begging to be lapped up by Steve’s skilled tongue. He wanted to taste you, to devour you in the way you both loved, but your hand stopped him.
“Stevie, need you now,” you whined breathily, Steve’s eyes catching yours once again. He nodded, moving up to hover over your body that lay flat against the couch. Your slick made it easy for him to slip in, earning whimpers from both of you as your walls sucked him in.
Steve watched your face for a moment, simply because he could, because he wanted to. He admired the scrunch of your brow, the slight gape of your lips, and the pleading look in your eye. It only enticed him more, finally encouraging him to move.
With a sharp breath, Steve pulled out a bit before pushing back in. It was slow and deep, a stark contrast to the usual fast and rough nature of your hookups with Steve. He was hitting places deep within you, pulling silent moans from your lips.
Your hands searched for something to hold, to guide you through the pleasure Steve’s thrusts were forging. One hand landed on his back, gripping tightly to his skin. The other fell flat against the couch, an open palm facing up by your shoulder. 
Steve, who had been so consumed with studying the way your face screwed up as he dragged his cock in and out of you, noticed the fall of your hand. He grabbed it quickly, interlocking his fingers with yours. Steve thrust harder then, though he maintained his steady pace. His eyes locked with yours once more, labored breaths dancing in the small space between his lips and yours. 
Steve ground down hard, your hips matching his rhythm as you both neared your highs. You suddenly felt shy. The press of Steve’s body to yours combined with the intensity of your locked eyes, making you glance elsewhere.
“Baby,” Steve’s breathy voice rang out, his free hand turning your face and bringing your gaze back to him. “Want you to look at me when you cum. Need to see it. Please, baby,” he begged, the rhythm of his thrusts faltering slightly, telling you that he was close.
You just nodded, leaning up a bit to kiss him. Steve savored the feel of your lips on his before you pulled back, meeting his gaze as requested. The pressure in the pit of your stomach became too much. Your hand squeezed Steve’s tightly as your face contorted in pleasure and your walls fluttered around him.
Steve watched as you hit your high, continuing his thrusts as your thighs shook and your moans of his name echoed throughout the room. He couldn’t hold on any longer, reaching his own peak with a low groan of your name. His eyes never left yours as he pumped his hot ropes of cum into you and watched you unwind. 
After you’d both calmed down, breaths evening out, and chests no longer heaving, Steve gently pulled out. He kept his body on yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Then he got up, retrieving a damp washcloth to clean you both up. 
The both of you redressed and resumed your previous spots on the couch, pretending to pay attention to the movie again. You tried to ignore the shift in the air, the warmth that filled your chest at the thought of what just happened. 
Steve did the same, his wandering eyes glazed over as he got lost in thought about the whole ordeal. Something occurred to him then, something too important to ignore. His past few hookups hadn’t made him feel anywhere close to how good he just felt with you, how good he always felt with you.
The other girls were always too loud or too demanding or too submissive, but were they really? Steve would get hung up on some flaw while with them, no matter how big or small, and effectively throw off the whole thing for himself. 
But as he sat there with the smell of sex still lingering in the air and some shitty movie playing on the screen in front of him, Steve realized that the other girls’ biggest flaw was always just that they weren’t you. And maybe Steve didn’t want no strings attached anymore. Maybe he just wanted you. And he had no clue how to tell you.
I’m still hanging around
Family Video hadn’t seen a customer for the past hour and forty-five minutes. The front counter had been wiped clean at least six times and all the tapes were put back into the system and reshelved, leaving Robin and Steve with absolutely nothing to do.
They’d resorted to taking turns trying to catch candy in their mouths when the bell sounded from above the front door. You strolled in with a furrowed brow as you watched Robin pick a stray skittle from her hair.
“Congrats on the big promotion, Steven,” you called out, approaching the counter with a wide smile. Steve’s new name tag with the words “Shift Lead” printed beneath his name shined in the store's harsh overhead lighting. Before Steve could thank you or comment on the use of his full name, Robin spoke up, effectively interrupting him.
“Thank god, someone to talk to other than this bozo,” Robin gestured to Steve who shot her a frown. “So tell me, how’d your date go last night?” she asked, leaning forward on her elbows and abandoning the half-empty pack of Skittles that sat on the counter.
Steve rolled his eyes at the mention of you going on another date with another guy, likely with some douchebag who didn’t deserve you. He took that as his cue to leave, wandering around the store to make himself look busy and avoid overhearing any talk of how soft this new guy’s lips were. Steve could still feel the pang of jealousy that lived in the pit of his stomach ever since you said that about some guy you went out with last week.
Despite his recent revelation, Steve had made no move to make his feelings known to you. He was caught in limbo between being seconds from spilling his guts to you at any given moment and refraining out of the fear of ruining your friendship. The more he heard of you going out with other guys, the more he doubted whether his feelings would be reciprocated.
“That bad?” Robin practically shouted in response to what you told her about your date, dragging Steve from his thoughts and drawing him into your conversation. He lingered near the movie shelves, just close enough to hear as you recounted the way your date more or less slobbered into your mouth when you made out.
“I had to chug half a bottle of mouthwash to feel like I wasn’t drowning in his saliva anymore,” you sighed, resting your chin in your hand as you leaned against the counter.
“That sucks, man,” Robin said, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The bell above the door rang out and Robin peered over your shoulder to catch a look at the customer. Robin glanced at Steve, hoping he’d help whoever just walked in, but he simply pointed over his shoulder, indicating for her to get to work. “Shit, duty calls,” she spoke quickly, rushing from behind the counter to greet the new customer.
“So,” Steve appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sliding behind the counter to stand where Robin previously was. “I told my parents about my promotion and they want to take me out to a nice dinner,” Steve’s gaze was drawn to the glass counter in front of him, suddenly unable to look at you.
“That sounds nice. I’m glad they’re finally recognizing your achievements,” you beamed at him, eyes scanning over his messy hair. He’d clearly been running his hands through it, nervously tugging the perfectly styled strands out of place.
“Yeah,” he started, letting out a huff of breath as he spoke. “They want you to come too,” he finally met your confused gaze. Your brows lifted and your mouth fell agape as you processed Steve’s words.
“Me? What? Why?” was all you could get out, words stuttered as your head filled with questions.
“Well, remember that time they came home early and nearly caught us in the kitchen so we played it off like we were about to make breakfast?” Steve asked, watching as your cheeks heat in embarrassment from the memory.
“The French toast incident. Yeah, I remember,” you nodded, curious about its connection to Steve’s upcoming celebratory dinner.
“Ever since then, they’ve been convinced that we’re dating. No matter how many times I’ve told them we’re not, they still think we’re together. They call you my girlfriend and everything,” Steve informed you, and it was like a light bulb went off in your head.
“The very few interactions I’ve had with them make a lot more sense now,” you stated, recalling all the times Steve’s parents asked you very girlfriend-esque questions. “Anyways, I’ll be there. Anything to support my little Stevie,” you pinched his cheek and Steve couldn’t help but laugh. 
Robin rounded the front counter, barreling Steve aside to ring up the customer she’d been dealing with. You took that as your indication to leave. You spun on your heels, heading back to the front door when Steve called out behind you.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven,” Steve spoke and you just kept walking, finally stopping as you reached the door.
“See you then, Stevie,” you smiled at him, pushing open the door and walking out into the summer sun. 
Steve wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe he could blame it on the rundown air conditioner that Keith refused to replace. But he knew deep down that it was you. It was always you. His chest filled with butterflies at the thought of taking you out on a real date, despite the annoying addition of his parents. He’d treat you better than any of the other guys had before. He’d make you want to be his in the same way that he wanted to be yours, that he was sure of.
I know what you tell your friends
Steve picked you up right when he said he would, watching as you descended your driveway in a sundress. He couldn’t help the silent gasp that fell from his lips, so taken aback by your beauty. The passenger door swung open and you slid into the seat, meeting Steve’s admiring gaze with a smile.
“Ready, boyfriend?” you teased, leaning into the role that Steve’s parents expected you to play. Steve could’ve sworn that his heart stopped as the word fell from your lips. He hadn’t known until then how much he wanted to hear you call him that.
“You bet, girlfriend,” he snapped himself out of his stupor and finally responded, driving off in the direction of the restaurant.
Butterflies bloomed in your stomach, their delicate wings swarming deep within you. Things had been different with Steve recently but you weren’t sure why. His longing stares and flushed cheeks raised feelings from deep within that you were unable to identify, pushing them aside for the sake of your friendship.
The restaurant came into view and you noticed the nervous tap of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When the car came to a stop you took hold of his hand, wrapping his palm with yours and easing the worries that plagued him.
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” you spoke softly, comfortingly. Steve’s eyes softened, his head nodding as his nerves melted away at the tingle of his hand enveloped in yours.
The restaurant was packed when you entered, your hand still interlocked with Steve’s. It didn’t take long to find Steve’s parents though, all you had to do was follow the sound of a woman complaining that her ice water had too much ice.
“Hi Mom, Dad,” Steve greeted his parents, pulling their attention to the two of you standing on the opposite side of the table. Steve’s parents were not the touchy kind, opting for a simple nod of their head in greeting rather than a handshake or hug.
“It’s nice to see you again, dear,” Mrs. Harrington addressed you, a plastic smile upturning the corners of her lips. The conversation continued, Steve’s parents pestering you both with questions.
“Steve tells me that you’re in school?” Mr. Harrington questioned, his gaze peering at you through the thick lenses of his glasses. You were taken aback by his question, not expecting him to know much about you. Steve had talked about you to his parents? He’d told them about you and your personal life?
“Yes, I am. I’m enrolled at the community college for now but I plan to transfer to a state school once I get my associate's degree,” you did your best to remain calm under the intense gaze of Steve’s parents, though the foundations of your cool facade were beginning to crack. Steve noticed the panic that creased your brow, taking it upon himself to clutch your hand in his under the table. Relief flooded you instantly, calmed by the warm caress of Steve’s skin on yours.
“That’s a good plan,” Mr. Harrington spoke again, turning his gaze from you to his son. “Seems much better than working at a video store with no thought of the future,” his face remained straight as he insulted Steve as if it were second nature by now.
Steve’s admiring smile, the one that stretched his lips at his father’s approval of your current path, faltered at the harsh words directed his way. Your hand squeezed Steve’s, reminding him that you were still there, that the insensitive words of the man before him didn’t matter. 
“Dad,” Steve started but was quickly silenced by the raise of his father’s hand. It was like watching a dog following its owner’s command to sit. Steve was well trained by now, knowing when to be quiet, but you weren’t.
“With all due respect Mr. Harrington, Steve has worked his ass off at Family Video,” you defended, ignoring the gasp that came from Mrs. Harrington at your use of profanity. “Steve earned his promotion through hard work and dedication, two principles that I thought a businessman like yourself would greatly value,” you continued, your hand still clasped against Steve’s as your rage boiled over.
“Well, yes but-” Mr. Harrington began but you interrupted him before he could continue.
“Maybe it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, but Steve is learning valuable skills that can easily translate to other jobs later on,” you stated while Steve’s parents sat dumbfounded across from you, not used to being talked back to. “It's a shame you can’t see how wonderful and compassionate your son is. You should be proud of the man he’s becoming. I know I am,” your eyes roamed the dropped jaws of Steve’s parents and held back a smile at their shocked expressions.
You turned to Steve then, his gaze securely fastened on you. A smirk danced on his lips as he admired the crease in your forehead and the angry pinch of your brows. He watched as your expression unraveled, softening as your eyes landed on him. 
Steve was speechless, stunned by your fierce loyalty on his behalf. He wanted to kiss you so badly, crush his lips to yours in a way that left a bruise by the time you pulled away for air. But he held himself back, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up in the restroom,” you gently pulled your hand from Steve’s, pushing your chair back and knocking some silverware off the table in the process. Steve watched as you walked away, encapsulated by the sway of your hips and the skin exposed by the movement of your dress with each step.
“I’ll go get some clean silverware,” Steve leaned down, picking up the utensils that littered the ground. He then quickly followed in your direction, leaving his still-shocked parents alone at the table. He approached the bathroom, a single-user restroom, and knocked on the door.
“Occupied,” you called out through the door, barely heard over the conversations and soft music that filled the restaurant.
“It’s me,” Steve said into the door, hoping not to attract too much attention from the tables nearby. The lock turned quickly, allowing Steve to push the door open and step into the small bathroom with you.
He clicked the lock back into place before turning to face you. His eyes read yours, receiving their open invitation, so he grasped your face, pulling it to meet his. Steve kissed you in the way he desired to only minutes before, with a rough clash of teeth and tongues that left you breathless.
“That was so fucking hot,” he spoke into your lips, one hand caressing your cheek as the other trailed down to your exposed legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs. 
“Steve,” you tried to break free from his kiss, but his lips followed yours. “Your parents are still at the table,” you reminded him, knowing that he intended to do far more than just kiss you.
“We’ll just have to be quick then,” his lips caressed yours again, his hand moving inwards, meeting the seam of your panties. You were conflicted, worry washing over you at the possibility of being caught. But Steve’s touch momentarily quelled the burning heat that bloomed between your legs.
His fingers slipped beneath your panties, tracing the outline of your folds, swiping at the dampness that began to form. He swiftly pulled your panties down, helping you step out of them before shoving them into his back pocket. Steve leaned you over the sink, unzipping his pants and slipping his hardened cock from the confines of the material.
You watched him through the mirror in front of you, his hands stroking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. He eased in, slipping in inch by inch before bottoming out. A moan slipped past his lips as he quickly pulled out and thrust back in, giving you little time to adjust. 
His thrusts were harsh and rough, knocking you forward with each motion. Your elbows that propped you up slid against the sink’s smooth countertop, bringing you closer and closer to the mirror with each movement. But Steve didn’t let up, forcefully pounding his cock into your core as he whimpered above you.
“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, his hands holding your hips in place. “It’s like your pussy was made for me. Squeezing me so good,” he didn’t let up, fucking you desperately, like he’d never get to do it again. 
“Mmhmm,” you hummed, suppressing your moans, not wanting to be heard by the rest of the restaurant. 
“So close, baby,” Steve leaned down, pressing kisses to your bare shoulders while maintaining his fierce pace. Your high was building along with Steve’s as he brushed a spot deep within you. 
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming,” Steve spoke suddenly, catching you off guard as he spilled into you. Steve’s thrusts faltered as he pumped his cum deep within your folds. “All mine. Want you to be all mine,” he whispered into your skin, slumping against your folded body. It took a moment before he stood up straight again, regaining his composure and tucking his cock back into his pants.
You stood up with him, wide eyes watching him from the mirror. He fixed his disheveled hair, not noticing the shocked expression that you wore. You hadn’t cum, hadn’t had enough time for your orgasm to fully build before Steve spilled his seed into you. You also couldn’t ignore the words he muttered against you. Words that spoke of a relationship, something more. The same words that Steve seemed to be completely oblivious to having said. 
“You okay?” Steve asked, finally noticing your worried look. You nodded, observing the boy who seemed to have unknowingly confessed his desires to you. “I’ll leave you to freshen up. I gotta go get more silverware,” he pulled the dirty silverware from his pocket that didn’t have your panties before opening the door and leaving you pantyless, alone in the bathroom with frazzled thoughts and his cum leaking down your thigh.
“What the fuck?” you mumbled to yourself, locking the door once more and cleaning yourself up. Did Steve want to be with you? Did he want to have you in the way you secretly hoped?
Your thoughts still raced as you exited the restroom, weaving through tables to get back to where you previously sat. But something caught your attention, or more like someone. Steve stood with a waiter, some guy you recognized from high school but couldn’t quite name off the top of your head.
“Are you two dating? Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve finally got tied down,” the unnamed waiter said, earning a grin from Steve. You were curious to know his answer, to hear what he said about you when you weren’t around. 
“Nah, man. She’s just some girl that lets me fuck her on my couch,” Steve chuckled, running a hand through his hair. The color drained from your face, breath exhaled shakily as tears welled in your eyes. His response was a far cry from what he’d whispered as he came inside you just moments ago.
Your feet carried you away, stumbling back to the table to avoid being seen by Steve. You plopped into your chair, meeting the skittish gazes of Steve’s parents. Their expressions reminded you of your words from before, how you defended Steve, how very wrong you may have been. 
Steve appeared a minute later clutching a new set of silverware and spewing an apology for how long it took. He placed the silverware in front of you, replacing your soiled set. His hand came to rest on your thigh and you couldn’t help the way you flinched at his touch. It was as if he was a completely different person to you now. 
Conversation resumed, Steve easing the tension at the table and re-engaging with his parents. You chimed in when needed, staying silent otherwise, consumed by thought. Steve’s parents had warmed up to you again by the end of the meal, despite how shutdown you had become.
“Steve should bring you to our house in Long Beach sometime. It’s gorgeous this time of year,” Mrs. Harrington suggested and you forced on a fake smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes, as you nodded. You and Steve thanked his parents for dinner before heading back to Steve’s car. 
The drive back to your house was quiet, your eyes peering through the window, gazing at the passing scenery, doing anything to keep from looking at the boy next to you. Steve came to a stop in front of your driveway and you immediately opened the door, stumbling out and starting the walk to your front door.
“What are you doing?” Steve called after you, exiting his car and following behind you. 
“Going into my house,” you said, not bothering to turn around or stop, continuing your trek to the door.
“No kiss? No goodbye?” Steve questioned, finally reaching you at your doorstep. You had been fumbling with your keys, struggling to unlock the door. Steve’s hand landed on your shoulder and you snapped, abandoning your keys in the lock and whipping around to face him.
“Why does it matter? I’m just some girl that lets you fuck her on your couch, right? So why do you care?” anger spilled out of you with each syllable, causing Steve to pull back, his foot falling down a step, letting you tower over him. “Yeah, I heard you, asshole,” your words spewed from your lips as Steve’s mouth opened, silently fumbling for words.
“I didn’t-” Steve began before you cut him off.
“You don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re tied down anymore, King Steve,” you turned back to your front door, finally managing to get it unlocked. You took a step inside while Steve still stood on the doorstep. “Maybe you can find some other girl to fuck around with instead,” you slammed the door shut, sinking against it and falling to the ground as the tears you held in finally leaked down your cheeks. You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it. But the hurt and anger tore you apart as you sobbed into your hands.
Steve stood still on your doorstep, his feet rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door. He loved you, he knew that for sure. As his glassy eyes traced the spot where you just stood, he felt his heart crack and shatter, its pieces filling the pit of his stomach with enough force to make bile rise in his throat. Steve knew he loved you, and unfortunately, he knew that he also just lost you.
Someone you couldn’t lose
“I really would rather just go back home. Why do you even need me for this?” you asked Eddie, his arm interlocked with yours, dragging you forward. He continued his steady pace, not letting up despite your dragging feet that weighed him down.
“Because you haven’t done anything but cry for the past few days. You need to leave your cave of solitude,” Eddie’s breath was a bit labored as he led you to the entrance of The Hideout. “Plus Gareth canceled on me and I didn’t want to go by myself,” Eddie added, eliciting an eye roll from you.
“Why couldn’t you take Robin or, I don’t know, literally anyone else?” you asked while Eddie guided you through the bar. The bar was practically empty, the crowd even smaller than when Corroded Coffin usually plays. God, the band playing tonight must suck.
“Because I enjoy your company, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, plastering a sickeningly sweet smile on his lips. A smile that you met with a glare. “And Robin is busy with Steve tonight,” he revealed his true reason for inviting you.
In another universe, a less complicated one, you would be mad at Eddie for being his last-resort concert buddy. But in this universe, the one where you and Steve were interlinked in an ever-so-tangled web, your heart stopped at the mention of his name.
Steve’s crude words played through your head like a bad earworm, momentarily overtaking your thoughts as your face faltered. Eddie watched the quiver of your lip and crease in your brow. He ached at the thought of your sadness, wanting to alleviate any trace of it, which is why he brought you to The Hideout, but not for the reason that you might think.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Eddie put his hand on your back ushering you towards the nearly empty bar. For once today, he didn’t have to drag you, your feet willingly trailing along behind him at the thought of alcohol. Eddie plopped down on a stool ordering you both a drink while you slid in beside him. 
The drinks were quickly made and paid for, leaving the two of you to sip away in silence. Your gaze drifted around the bar, curiously eyeing its patrons. Something didn’t seem right as you scanned the stage set up on the side of the room.
“Eddie,” you took a sip of your drink, focus shifting back to the boy next to you. “If there’s a show tonight then why is it so empty in here?” the question left your lips and Eddie’s nervous stare landed on the wood surface of the bar below. 
The front door slammed open, saving Eddie from your question. Your head whipped around at the sound of the door in combination with the hushed voices that filled the room. Steve and Robin. They were arguing about something, but you couldn’t hear them. The sounds that encompassed the bar slipped away, leaving your ears ringing in the stark silence. 
Watery eyes gazed upon the boy across the bar that was too enveloped in his conversation to look up. Eddie cleared his throat beside you, but your eyes didn’t leave Steve, roaming over his wild hair and disheveled clothes. Eddie may not have been able to get your attention, but he did get Steve’s, drawing his awareness until his eyes landed on you.
Steve froze in place, his pink lips parting in surprise as he traced your features. His heart ached at the distance between you, both metaphorical and physical. You couldn’t help but feel the same as you got down from your stool, feet pulling you closer. 
Steve met you halfway, stopping in the middle of the room, uncaring of the questioning looks you both attracted in the process. Words were lost on the tip of your tongue, incapable of leaving your lips.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Steve spoke breathlessly, a nervous hand running through his hair. “Robin dragged me here, but I can leave if you want,” Steve offered, but you quickly found yourself shaking your head.
“Can we talk?” you asked, your voice small like a child who’d just been scolded. Steve nodded quickly, taking no time to think over your suggestion. He didn’t need to, all he could think about for the past few days was how badly he wanted to talk to you. The ache in his chest only grew more painful with each passing day of silence. 
With his hand grasped in yours, you led Steve out the side door to an alleyway next to The Hideout. Your hand tingled at the warmth of Steve’s palm pressed gently against yours. Reluctantly, you dropped his hand, leaning against the building as Steve’s wandering gaze studied you nervously. He wasn’t sure whether you wanted to speak first or not, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer, succumbing to his urge to expel an explanation.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that about you,” Steve spewed out, his words desperate and pleading, frown lines etched deep into his skin.
“Is that really how you feel about me? That I’m just some girl?” you asked, voice quiet and broken, stifled by the tears welling in your eyes. You couldn’t meet his gaze, embarrassed to sound so small, so reliant on his opinion of you.
“No, absolutely not,” Steve shook his head immediately, stepping closer to you. “I just- I’ve been feeling a certain way about you lately, but I didn’t want to scare you. So I downplayed it, tried to make it seem like it was nothing to that guy from high school, but it is something,” Steve confessed, scanning your face for any hint of what you were thinking. He couldn’t find what he was looking for in your avoidant stare and his shoulders deflated.
A cool summer breeze whispered in the space between your bodies, bringing a chill to your skin as you thought over Steve’s words. You could feel the way his eyes searched you, pleading for a sign, but you didn’t budge, not when you didn’t have the answer you were looking for yet.
“And how exactly have you been feeling about me lately?” you finally look up, meeting Steve’s desperate stare. His lips parted, tongue darting out to wet them as he mulled over his next words. You were giving him a shot, a chance to lay it all out on the line. Steve just had to be smart enough, brave enough, to take it.
“Like I love you,” Steve asserted with shaky hands, carefully watching you for a reaction. The breath in your lungs fled, your eyes widening a bit and then softening in sweet admiration while the corner of your lips ticked upwards ever so slightly, which only encouraged Steve to continue. “Like I want to be with you all the time, not just late at night or when neither of us can get laid. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours,” his feet carried him closer to you, his spearmint and cigarette scented breath fanning warmly across your face. “Do you want that too?” he asked, his confidence dwindling by the second, making his voice as small as yours had been earlier.
His eyes darted back and forth tracing your soft skin, your lengthy eyelashes, and your plush lips. Steve was dying for your answer, just on the brink of falling to his knees and begging, but if there was even the slightest possibility that you were to reject him then he wanted to savor this moment beforehand. The calm before the storm.
He wanted to memorize the curve of your cheeks, every beauty mark or scar expanding across your skin, the way the moonlight illuminated your face in the dark of the night. Steve decided he could wait forever for you to speak your next syllable as long as he got to stay in this moment and simply be with you. But despite his desire to freeze time, your mouth opened, effectively sealing Steve’s potential fate with you.
“Yes,” your answer came out breathlessly like you had just finished running a marathon, and based on how fast your heart was pounding in your chest, you might as well have. Steve exhaled in a smile, his tongue wetting his lips once more. He wanted nothing more than to caress your supple skin and kiss you. So he did.
Steve wrapped you in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and searched your face for reassurance. When he found what he was looking for, Steve dived in, pressing his lips to yours. It was far from the first time you’d kissed, but something felt different this time. It was years of buried feelings finally clawing their way to the surface and announcing that they were here to stay. You pulled away with a smile and your forehead pressed to his.
“You know,” Steve spoke, words just above a whisper as he attempted to catch his breath. “Now that I think about it, there’s no way we coincidentally ended up in the same place at the same time,” he finished, arching a brow at you, hoping you’d understand what he was implying.
“Eddie and Robin definitely set this up,” you caught on to his train of thought.
“Definitely,” Steve agreed. He should be mad, he really should be. His friends had no right to meddle in his love life like this. But how could he be upset when he had you cradled in his arms and your chapstick smeared across his lips?
“I hate them,” you voiced, clearly unserious in your statement.
“I don’t,” Steve peered down at you, catching the reflection of the crescent moon in your eyes. “They brought me back to you,” he shrugged with a smile and you couldn't help but mirror him before closing the space between you with another kiss.
After a few more shared smiles and soft kisses, you and Steve decided to go back into the bar. It was just as empty as it had been before, further proving to you that Eddie lied in order to get you and Steve together. Steve’s hand was clasped around yours as you walked further in, spotting Eddie and Robin sitting across from one another in a booth.
“Follow my lead,” you whispered as the pair finally saw the two of you approaching. Wide smiles stretched their lips at the sight of you hand in hand. 
“So Eddie, when’s this band coming on?” you asked, coming to a stop at the end of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widened at your question, having expected you to forget about how he got you to The Hideout under false pretenses, especially given the fact that you’d made up with Steve.
“There, uh, isn’t one for tonight,” Eddie stuttered, looking like a deer in headlights at the arch of your brow.
“Oh,” you did your best to look taken aback like this wasn’t the answer you had expected. “So you lied?” you questioned, your tone expressing more confusion rather than anger, which only made Eddie more nervous. His mouth hung agape while Steve and Robin stifled their giggles and smirks.
“How about I get everyone a drink?” Eddie stood up quickly, looking for an escape. “Steve? Wanna help?” Eddie backed away from you and headed towards the bar. Steve released his hand from yours, shaking his head with a smile as he followed behind.
You slid into Eddie’s vacated seat, across from Robin. She still had a smirk etched into her face when your gazes met.
“Don't think you’re off the hook too,” you stated and her smirk fell almost comically. Your gaze drifted from her to the bar, landing on Steve. He was already facing you with a warm smile.
“I love you,” he mouthed to you, and you felt your breath catch again. It was something you’d have to get used to. After so long of denying your feelings and the insistence to stay casual, it would be a big change. But it was a change you were more than happy to accommodate.
“I love you too,” you mouthed back, and you really did mean it.
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Embrace the cringe.
Write weird fanfic.
Read weird fanfic.
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"Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right." THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER (2023)
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THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER (2023) 1x07 "The Pit and the Pendulum" | 1x08 "The Raven"
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