hellfiredup
hellfiredup
former gifted child
9 posts
turned burnt out college student
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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having to come to terms with the fact that love is not an everlasting performance in which you attempt to retain the attention of your significant other but rather a release of control and putting faith into them and trusting them to choose to stay with you no matter what you have to offer
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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let the kisses linger
word count: 3.3k summary: Steve Harrington is not your boyfriend, not yet. So far you’ve had a couple sweet kisses and an infuriating amount of dates spent with him making you nervous. Now, you just want to kiss him like you mean it, more than a peck, and maybe ask him to be your boyfriend while you do it. Steve beats you to it, on both counts. [cheeky tiny makeout + gn!reader (but r is mentioned to wear a bikini) + first relationship!reader]
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It starts with a touch.
You’ve come to learn it always does with Steve. Fingers skirting along any bare skin he can find, drawing a line on your waist when just a sliver is exposed. Along the ridge of your neck, curling his hand to rest against your shoulder. His fingertips tease at your neck, feather-soft touches that can make you shiver if you’re not expecting it.
You think he does it just to see the goosebumps that trail in the wake of his touch. From the way he always grins, like the cat that got the cream, you’re probably right.
Steve can’t help it. You’re so responsive.
Maybe it’s because it’s new, this thing between you and Steve — you’ve been on a couple dates together after a string of painfully obvious flirtations over the Family Video counter that Robin had been forced to witness. You’ve just not quite sealed the deal yet.
However, even though Steve’s had more girlfriends than he can count on one hand, this part? Never gets old.
The electricity. The dance, the build-up; getting to see how you react when you’re not quite expecting him to be as close and touchy as he is.
Keep reading
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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I see Steve’s face and I just think iwannarideiwannarideiwannaride I want his tongue ON MEEEE and his nose on my clit 🥹 I just know he would make out with your cunt….. be soooo sloppy and just slurp you up.. with a big warm hand on your tummy that you hold with both hands to stabilize yourself
yeahhhh<3
he’s been watching you all night and he eventually just bites the bullet and asks once you get home. you’re in his bed and you have your legs slung over his lap, his finger tracing shapes on you thigh, and he gives you the most endearing, shy look:) and he’s blushing and he can’t look in you eyes and he’s laughing at how ridiculous he sounds. and he rubs his neck, all nervous, like “i um uh. heh, well actually i was wondering if you wanted to uh. try something?” and you can’t tear your eyes away from the blush that’s crawling up his neck and the little moles along his jawline:) and you giggle a little like “what is it stevie?” and he gives you a look like he wants to eat you whole at the sound of your laugh, and then he’s leaning in to press his forehead to yours and he’s staring down at you because you’re just so cute he can’t help it<3 and then he’s tilting his head so his mouth is at your ear and you can feel his hot breath hitch just a little bit at just the THOUGHT of what he’s about to say. and he’s whispering all low, like someone might hear, but he just wants an excuse to watch goosebumps pop up on your skin when he talks all low in your ear. and he’s all husky like “i want to eat you out:)” and he’s smiling into your cheek a little and you’re like “???what’s so crazy about that??? of course you can???” and his grip on your thigh tightens a little and he looks you in the eyes like “no like. what if. you . rode me?” and you’re like “uh um yeah. ok:)” and his eyes light up a little as he bites his lip and you let him kiss you once, a quick peck on the lips, and then he’s really kissing you and maneuvering himself so he’s leaning over top of you, on his knees, one arm straight griping onto the headboard and the other cupping the side of your face. and he’s smiling into the kiss and breathing so heavy when he pulls away to tug his shirt off and then he’s helping you out if your clothes so gentle, but still clearly a little frantic. and when you’re both finally undressed he just looks you up and down. and you don’t feel self conscious or anything because he’s looking at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re his:) and then he’s pawing at your chest and your waist and sucking bruises into your neck and eventually you have to pull him out like “stevie lay down:)” and he lays back and you’re still a bit nervous, but he just grabs at your thighs, massages them a bit in his palms and then he’s pulling you over top of him. and you shimmy up his body, placing little kisses on your favorite moles and his sensitive spots<3 and then he settles your knees on either side of his head, and he’s just looking up at your eyes first — just to make sure you’re ok — and then he’s staring between your legs and he literally looks like he’s drooling he wants it so bad. he’s literally rock solid at the thought of your weight on him. and he tugs you down a little, but you protest just a bit something about “don’t wanna hurt you stevie:(” and he’s just. choking up he’s so turned on, voice all raspy like “please sweetheart you’re hurting me more by keeping her from me ok” and then he pulls you down onto him and he’s holding you still by the hips as he licks around and just takes it all in:) and then he’s trying to listen to your little noises, prodding his nose around until he hears that little hitch in your breath and he knows he’s found your clit:) and he smiles when he finds it, wrapping his arms up around your waist and pulling you down onto him even further, he literally wants to be suffocated he could die happy here. and you’re not really doing too much, just kind of taking it, so he grabs one hip, putting his hand on your tummy to keep you steady, and he starts to rock your hips for you, making his lips go soft as they rub through your folds, and nuzzling his nose further into your clit<3 n now he knows he’s got you:) you’re tugging ur fingers through his hair now and bucking your hips against him on your own and he can feel your legs shaking next to his head. but he knows you need just a lil something. something to tip u over the edge
so he grips one hand a little tighter at your stomach, he doesn’t want you falling off when you inevitably cum<3 and he takes the hand from your hip and starts to prod his fingers at your entrance, just to one knuckle. you’re grabbing at his arm now, pleading little “w-wait steve hold on” and even whinier “please- oh god please pl-please” and then he’s pushing two whole fingers in. he can find your g-spot likes it’s nothing by now, he’s practically got you memorized, and now he’s pressing and pressing and pressing, curling his fingers the way he knows you like it. now you’re just a blubbering mess, begging him to let you cum, begging him to hold you, begging him to keep going, that you’re almost there. and then feels you tighten just a bit, he knows you’re right there. so he does what any sane man would do, and he moved his lips up, right over your clit, wrapping his mouth around the little bud… and he just sucks. his tongue pressing at it and his lips providing suction, and now he doesn’t even know he’s moaning into your pussy, or that his hips are bucking up into the air, desperate for friction, or that his fingers in your cunt are going ten times as fast, or that he’s gripping your stomach so tight, or that your grip on his hair and his arm are becoming painful. he doesn’t even notice, because now you’re cumming all over his face, making those little noises and babbling his name over and over and rocking your hips onto him and rubbing yourself all over his face and your legs are shaking and you’re clenching down so hard on his fingers he thinks you might cut of circulation<3 and then you’re panting so hard, coming back to yourself a little. you start to lift yourself off, but he grabs your legs again, holding you in place, holding you to him so he can clean you up with his tongue because he’s nothing if not a gentleman and a little greedy and he’s licking through your folds and over your lips and at your clit just a touch, just to see you flinch a bit at the sensitivity. and then he lets you peel yourself off him. you collapse next to him and he pulls you into his side and tucks his face into your neck :) and you can tell he’s painfully hard right now, so you send a hand down there to help him out, but he stops you, nuzzling into your neck further and holding you impossibly closer, humming a soft little “jus’ lemme hold you” into your neck with a little kiss<3
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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Tonight Feels Impossible
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.7K] soft, desperate end of the world smut.
It didn’t happen like this often, there  wasn’t always a need for it. That’s not to say that yours and Steve’s sex life wasn’t plentiful… it just wasn’t always like this. 
More than needy, beyond desperate, frantic, wild, the kind of sex you have with someone who almost died in front of you. The kind of sex you have with someone to remind them and yourself that you’re both still fucking alive. 
You barely make it inside, adrenaline pumping, blood rushing in your ears and the absolutely insatiable need to feel your boyfriend against you in every way you could because the world had gone to shit and when the Earth had opened up at your feet, it had almost swallowed Steve whole
“Steve,” you whimpered, almost cried, because the lock was stuck and you had your hands pressed underneath his shirt and suddenly, it wasn’t enough anymore. 
Vecna was gone. Not dead, not defeated, but gone. Hiding, lurking, somewhere out of sight. The town had cracked into four, split into pieces, a jigsaw puzzle no one knew how to put back together. Not yet, anyway. 
That’s why you were here, at Steve’s, under instruction from Hopper to grab what you both needed and meet back at the cabin, ready to leave town, to get somewhere far away — for now. Somewhere where everyone could sit and take a fucking breath. Where everyone could be safe, even just for a day. 
But you needed more than clean clothes and a toothbrush, Steve knew that too. He felt it, felt the need, the absolute agony of needing to have you right now. 
“Steve,” you said again, voice broken. Your fingers dug into his sides a little, skimming over his ribs as he groaned and swore at the lock. “I need—”
“Baby,” Steve soothed, “I know, I know. Just gimme a m—”
The lock finally clicked, the key turned and you both tumbled into the dark house. It was empty, as always, and you both were told to call each of your parents and explain to them what happened before they saw it on the news channels. 
Murray had grabbed you both by the shoulders, the shock slowly wearing off and settling into tiredness, a slow ache in your hearts and your stomachs and your heads. He’d told you to go home, pack a bag, call your parents and tell them you were okay, you were alive and that everything was fine. 
(It wasn’t. Nothing was fine.)
He told you to tell them to stay out of town, on their vacations, on their business trips out of state. He told you to tell them that you were going to go to a motel a few towns over, that you were both with the Byers, that chief Hopper was back home and alive and keeping you safe. 
It was all too much to explain over one phone call and it was too much to possibly even think about. Because how were you supposed to even begin to do such a thing? How were you supposed to keep your voice from shaking and cracking? How were you supposed to call your mom and tell her that a man had risen from the dead and the office she worked at had sunk into a crack in the earth that looked like the literal gates to hell? How were you supposed to do any of that when Steve was looking at you like he needed you more than air?
That’s why you ignored everything Murray had said, letting Steve slam the door closed behind you as he tossed the keys to the console table at the door, the one with the plastic looking photo of him and his parents, the dead flowers that sat in a crystal vase because no one was ever fucking home. 
You let the boy guide you, never rough, just insistent and when he got too impatient, when the clock in the kitchen seemed to tick louder and louder, Steve whined and ducked down to meet you, lips messily slanting over yours as you stumbled into the living room together. 
Steve didn’t lift you, not quite, but he tugged you against his body, your toes just brushing the floor as you both crashed towards the sofa. Steve was quick to spin you both, making sure he landed first, pulling you down on top of him until you spread your legs and straddled his thighs, lips never leaving his. 
Hawkins was burning but you could only think of the boy. 
Your hands shook as they travelled over his sides, his arms, pulling at his jacket until he shrugged it off, eyes clenched shut as you kept kissing him, making the softest, greediest sounds. 
“Fuck,” Steve sighed, breath stuttering, “shit, c’mere, let me—”
He leaned up to you, reaching you as you sat on your knees above him, letting the boy grab the hem of your dress and pull it off. It smelled like damp and smoke and gunpowder, like the sting of moonshine from makeshift bombs. 
His eyes watered at the sight of your skin, dust covered and scratched and scraped, superficial wounds that looked red and angrier than they were but Steve shook his head at them, as if he could will them away. The boy had watched you from across the hall at Creel house, as helpless and as stuck as you were as you were both forced to stare at the other as vines tightened around your necks and chests.  
Real life was a living, breathing nightmare and the only thing that seemed to help you escape it, was the touch that your boyfriend could give you.
Steve was alive. 
He was okay, he was safe, he was right in front of you. 
It still wasn’t enough. 
 
You were back on him before your dress hit the floor, your hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt that had a torn collar and you were whimpering as you pulled it off, impatient beyond belief. 
His hands soothed at you, curling around your ribs, thumbs running circles helped the band of your bra and Steve was making soft sounds that were meant to soothe you. 
“S’okay, you’re alright,” he was murmuring, hands roaming without much thought, cupping your damp cheeks, petting over your hair, pulling you into him by the small of your back. “I’ve got you, tell me what you need.”
“You, Steve,” you were crying more openly now, the comedown hitting you harder than you had anticipated and without the rush of adrenaline, there was only upset and fear. “I just need you, Stevie, please.”
You didn’t give him a chance to respond, your fingers working at his belt and Steve groaned, his own hands shaking as he tried to help you, both of you pushing his jeans down just enough to free his cock from his boxers. He was already half hard, the sight of you in just your underwear and the need to feel you making him twitch. 
“Babybabybaby,” he murmured, “you’re good yeah? Look at me, sweetheart, lemme see your eyes.”
His hand tucked under your chin and lifted it, breathing out when your glassy eyes met his. You were panting, chest heaving, but you were still with him. Steve brushed his thumb under your lash line, swept away a stray tear and brought you back to him for a kiss, needier than before, urgent, a little messy as he licked into you, tongue pressing over yours. 
You were almost sure you heard something snap, the ping of elastic as Steve unclasped your bra and dragged it down your arms, hasty and barely looking as he kept kissing you, all teeth and tongue and complete and utter fucking adoration. 
He whined into your mouth when your hand wrapped around his cock, letting you swallow his sounds, kissing them from him as you dragged your palm over him, once, twice. 
“Need you,” he told you and you tried not to mewl out when you nodded, pushing yourself closer into him, into his touch. “We need to be fast, sweetheart, we shouldn’t even be doing this. Not right now.”
Steve was right, of course. You knew that. You were supposed to be on the phone to your folks as you told them not to worry whilst Steve shoved clothes into a rucksack. 
But despite his words, his logic, Steve was hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them to the side, breath stuttering out from his chest as he felt how wet you were. One finger, two fingers pumping in and out until you grabbed at his wrist and pushed your forehead against his. 
Your eyes were closed, lips parted, stealing the breath from him as you leaned in, barely kissing. 
“Just want you inside me,” you whispered and god, you sounded wrecked. “Please, baby.”
Steve’s head hit the back of the couch as he let it fall back, jaw slack and neck pulled taught. He stared up at you through hooded eyes, fingertips just pushed to your clit, moving slowly enough to make each touch feel like an electrical shock. 
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispered, but you were already pushing up onto your knees to line yourself up with him, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Christ, sweetheart, heyheyhey, shit, go slow.”
You tried to do as you were told, Steve’s hands a strong grip on your hips as you took him in inch by inch, crying out at the stretch. It was the kind of burn you wanted, a slight pinch of pain as Steve bullied his cock into your cunt, gasping at the way you clenched around. 
“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, throwing his head back, eyes clenched shut as he left crescent moon shaped marks on your hips, panting as you took all of him. He whispered your name, the softest noise, the sweetest. “Baby, baby, y’alright?”
His palm coasted up the soft of your stomach, a slow, warm drag of calluses and scars over your tits until his fingers curled around your throat, a gentle hold, enough for your eyes to snap to his. 
“Talk to me,” Steve murmured, bringing your forehead to rest against his own, noses bumping, lips brushing. “Let me hear you, pretty girl.”
It wasn’t a request for dirty talk, you knew that. Not when it was like this, no, that’s not what Steve was asking for. He just needed to hear your voice. To know that you were okay, you were here and alive and breathing and safe like he was. 
Your breath hitched and hiccuped, lips parting as you whined out. “Steve… Steve, I need you closer.”
It seemed like an impossible ask because the boy was already throbbing inside of you and had every inch of him but Steve just nodded. He’d give you the world if you asked for it, he’d fix the broken one you lived in, he’d stitch it back together and wrap it in a pretty, scarlet bow, just for you. 
He brought you in, chest to chest, arms wrapped around you as he helped you move, a rhythm hardly there, because honestly? Neither of you were necessarily chasing an orgasm, just the need to feel the other. But you rocked and started a messy grind over the boy as he held you, your hands tangled in his hair, thick and messy with dust and grime but you didn’t care. 
You wondered if it would ease the burn, the ache, the need for the boy. You wondered if you both came, gasping and groaning into each other, you wouldn’t want to cling to him for the rest of the night. 
(You doubted it.) 
“Atta’ girl,” Steve cooed, voice rough and heavy with desperation, mouthing at your throat, ghosting his lips over your cheek, your chin as he thrust up, hips canting. “My girl; my gorgeous, sweet girl.”
You keened, hands pulling at Steve’s hair a little rougher, making his lashes flutter, his jaw hanging slack as he fucking growled for you. It all turned a little manic then, messy, dirty, desperate.
Nails across skin, grabbing and clawing, hair pulled, lips bitten, marked up throats and aching hips as Steve held you over him, always with a surprising strength. He kept you there, his hands grabbing at your ass as he fucked up into you harder than before and the pressure, the harsh snap of his hips into yours was enough to send you over the edge. 
It caught you by surprise, your breath catching in your throat in a low, babbling moan, a squeal, a swear. You clung to him, pulling Steve back to you as you came hard, your cunt slick and clenching down on him, tighter and right until he was crying out and holding you to him. 
He snapped his hips one more time, burying himself into you as he came too and you were moaning out loud at the feel of him, cock twitching. 
“I love you I love you I love you,” you were chanting as you came down, as you rode out your high, Steve’s face buried in the crook of your neck as he cried out, mouth open and pressed to your collarbone.
“C’mere,” he huffed, rosy cheeked as he tore away to look up at you, hands wide and clasping at your cheeks. “Baby, I need—”
He cried out as he kissed you, cheeks as damp as yours, the sound wrecked and desperate. You couldn’t get closer, Jesus Christ, he was still inside you and yet it didn’t feel like enough. 
“I love you,” the boy mumbled into your lips, the words kissed away and kept, tucked away into a space between your ribs, yours to keep forever. “Love you so fuckin’ much, you know that, don’t you?”
You nodded, sniffling as tears rolled down your cheeks and you both tasted salt, kissing away the fear that you both felt. The night felt impossible.
“Yeah, I know,” you soothed, voice quiet, hands petting over the mess of his hair, “we’re both okay, yeah? We’re all okay.”
And you were. For now, at least. ‘Cause you were still in Steve’s arms and his lips were on your neck, kissing a soft, warm line over your shoulder. And it was selfish the way you stayed there for too long, quiet and safe in the dark of the boy’s living room whilst the world outside the window fell apart. 
Neither of you moved until the phone rang, a shrill reality check that echoed through the empty house. You gasped and Steve groaned when you moved off of him, his hands warm on your hips as he helped settle you onto the couch. He handed you your dress and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth before he headed for the phone. 
He was buckling his belt as he answered, brows furrowed and bare chest cold at the loss of you. You could hear the buzz of Hopper’s voice through the receiver and it made Steve’s face fall, made his eyes pinch in the corners as he nodded and told the older man,“yeah, we’ll be there soon.”
You were by his side when he hung up, forehead pressed to his shoulder and his hand found yours, fingers tangling as he brought it to his lips, another kiss, another touch, still not close enough. 
You knew what you had to do, what you both needed to do. So you took a quick shower whilst Steve packed, the water scalding and running grey and red at your feet. He had fresh clothes for you when you walked back to his room, bare feet soaking the floorboards, hair dripping. 
You barely felt the cold, barely registered Steve’s hand on your arm as he brushed past you to shower off the dirt and dust and blood and sex. 
Maybe this was shock. Maybe this was the comedown. Maybe this is what happened when you went too long without touching the boy.  
But Steve let you hold his hand the whole drive over, his car protesting at the way the roads were pulled apart, potholes and ridges in the tarmac as Steve took the best route he could towards the Byers. 
And that was enough, for now. 
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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Joe Keery being chaotic for 35 seconds
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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#god he’s so dreamy
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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Bite Me - Eddie Munson
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"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks, slowly following behind you. You grab his wrist and pull him a little closer, closing the door so that you're both tucked into your tiny dorm room.
"She's gone for the weekend," you reply, kissing him again. He's not used to people being so forward with him. Or being invited back to girls' rooms. Or being kissed like that.
When you pull away, Eddie's eyes are wide, looking at you like he's just seen a ghost. He lets a sigh fill his cheeks and lets it out slowly, raking his fingers through his hair and taking in the view before him. You're in your Halloween costume—a cute little dress with thigh-high tights and black boots.
He had struck up a conversation with you because you seemed nice... and he had caught you staring at him a couple of times. The party was small, with only about fifteen people. But the dorms were not made for hosting more than about four people at once, so it felt crowded and cramped. The boxed wine was blackening the teeth of the people around you, and you giggled as your drunk friends danced with each other on the carpet.
You were sitting on Nancy's bed, legs dangling off the edge, glass bottle of cider in hand (for fuck's sake, it was Autumn, after all), when he walked up to you.
"I like your costume," he said shyly. You glanced down, noticing your own cleavage and exposed thighs. You chuckled and looked back up at him knowingly.
"Thanks."
He would have laughed with you if he wasn't so scared shitless. He bit his bottom lip, looking off to the side, debating if he should leave while he was ahead. You haven't fucked it up yet. Best to head out before you make it weir-
"Who are you supposed to be?"
He slowly turned his head to look back at you. You looked up into his eyes, waiting for an answer. His lips parted at the sight.
"Vampire."
That sent you into a fit of giggles.
"I'm a vampire," he corrected, right hand pulling down the collar of his shirt a bit to show the two red dots he had painted on himself. He wore a black button-down shirt, black pants, and black shoes.
"Where are your fangs?" you asked, tilting your head to check out the two little dots that he was clearly very proud of.
"It's impossible to drink with these shits in my mouth," he replied, pulling a plastic pair of fangs out of his pocket. When you laughed at him for the third time, he took it as an invitation to sit next to you on the bed.
"How do you know Nancy?" you asked.
"High school," he replied, looking out into the room to see her dancing with a few other friends. "You?"
"She's in a club with my roommate and found out I had no plans tonight, so... I ended up here." You took another sip of your cider, nearing the bottom of the bottle.
The room was getting warmer and darker as the daylight faded from the open windows. All that lit the room was a small blue light coming from the opposite corner of the room. His pale skin looked pretty, the tint of blue turning his eyes dark.
"You're staring at me again," he said softly.
You broke out of your trance, looking into his eyes once again. "Again?"
He laughed, tucking the fangs back into his pocket. "I'm Eddie." That was his way of bailing you out—changing the subject from the fact that he had totally caught you.
As the party went on, Nancy convinced you to get up and dance with her. She held out her arms, singing along to the song playing through her speaker and frowning at you playfully. You giggled, setting your empty bottle down beside you and accepting her hands, standing up to dance a little. From the corner of your eye, you could see Eddie smiling and sipping from a paper cup, sitting exactly where you left him.
When the socialite moved along to dance with another friend of hers, you made your way back to the boy on her bed. "Now you're staring at me," you said confidently, standing nearly between his parted knees. He looked so soft as he gazed up at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes relaxed.
"Whoops," he said, but his gaze remained unaltered. The two of you enjoyed a moment of silence, just looking at each other. The stream of consciousness that usually kept you worrying about how you looked, what you'd talk about next, and if you were actually interesting to whoever you were talking to was paused.
Spit it out spit it out spit it out spit it
"Do you want to come upstairs with me?"
The words flew out before you even realized you were thinking them. And thank the Halloween gods you didn't retract them instantly out of fear, because Eddie was nodding. You felt your back straighten a little taller as he set down the paper cup on the counter beside your empty bottle. Nobody paid attention as the two of you slipped out, him following behind you quietly.
Stepping out into the hallway was a rude awakening. The bright yellow light stung your eyes in contrast to the gentle mood lighting of Nancy's room. The music was muffled behind the door, and the air (though less stuffy) felt thicker. You turned to face him, beginning to worry that the tension you felt only existed in the realm of that party, and that now that the ambiance was far from romantic, he wouldn't be interested anymo-
"What's upstairs?" he asked confidently, taking your hand gently in his.
You looked to him questioningly, hoping that you hadn't misinterpreted what you thought was him flirting with you.
"My roommate won't be back for a while," you said quietly, stepping a bit closer to him. "It'll just be us."
He seemed nervous, so you bit the bullet and leaned in, kissing him for the first time. You pulled away, giving him a chance to retreat if you had misread the situation. The separation didn't last long; his hands moved to cup your cheeks and kiss you deeper.
"Lead the way," he said.
And so you did. He took advantage of the view, behind (and subsequently beneath) you as you lightly jogged up to your room. Your boots clinked against the stair steps, echoing through the stairwell, followed by the heavier thuds of his sneakers.
You drop his hand to fiddle with your shorts, pulling your room key out of the pocket and opening the door.
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks, slowly following behind you. You grab his wrist and pull him a little closer, closing the door so that you're both tucked into your tiny dorm room.
"She's gone for the weekend," you reply, kissing him again. He's not used to people being so forward with him. Or being invited back to girls' rooms. Or being kissed like that.
When you pull away, Eddie's eyes are wide, looking at you like he's just seen a ghost. He lets a sigh fill his cheeks and lets it out slowly, raking his fingers through his hair and taking in the view before him. You're in your Halloween costume—a cute little dress with thigh-high tights and black boots.
"I know your roommate's gone," he replies. "I mean like, are you sure you want this?" He looks sincere and a bit worried. He fumbles with your hand, and you swear you melt a little inside.
"I dunno," you reply, not breaking eye contact. "Will you put the fangs back in?"
He scoffs, smiling and shaking his head at the floor between you two.
"Bite me."
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
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In a Minute - Eddie Munson
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You closed the door behind yourself as quietly as you could manage. The lights were out in the whole house, but that didn't always mean everyone was asleep. You clutched your keys tightly so they wouldn't jingle as you stepped outside and shut the door behind yourself. 
She didn't mean any harm—you don't think, at least—but you still needed to get out of the house. She also wouldn't be upset with you for leaving the house, but she would definitely ask questions. Questions with answers that you didn't feel like telling her. 
Eddie essentially lived alone, which was really convenient on nights like these. After you came home and found your drunk mother particularly frustrating to be around, the two of you got into a fight. She wouldn't remember the next morning, but you would. 
You let yourself into the trailer after driving to Eddie's place, not bothering to knock on the door. You two essentially had an open doors policy—especially when it came to escaping from familial problems. 
You closed the front door quietly and made your way to his bedroom. His door was closed, and you did your very best to open it quietly to not wake him. 
His dark hair was a mess, all over his face and pillows. His pale chest and arms were exposed, but his waist was tucked beneath a flannel blanket. His right cheek pressed into the pillow and his mouth hung slightly open, pushing his lips out each time he exhaled. You grinned at the sight of him and felt better in his presence. 
He was a heavy sleeper, and you really didn't need to wake him up at that very moment, so you quietly kicked off your shoes and slid into bed next to him. You grabbed his left hand and tucked yourself in close to him, setting his hand on your waist. He grumbled in his sleep a little, shifting his head against the pillow. 
"Hi," he softly mumbled, pulling you in tighter. "You good?"
You had been better, but you didn't feel like waking him up so he could listen to a retelling of the same story he'd already heard plenty of times about your mother. 
"Yeah," you assured him. "Just wanted to get out of the house." 
He nodded quietly, still keeping his eyes closed, and then kissed your forehead tenderly. He rested his chin on the top of your head and fell right back to sleep. 
He woke up before you the next morning, only half-remembering falling asleep with you. What he didn't remember was talking to you last night. I hope I didn't miss something bad he thinks to himself. 
He gets the idea to make you breakfast, so he slyly tries to pluck your arm off his torso and place it onto the bed. The movement woke you up, and you opened your eyes to see his face looking a little embarrassed. 
"Mornin'," he softly says. He looks like he's worried he disturbed a peaceful dream. 
"Hey," you reply, giving him a little grin. 
"I was gonna let you sleep," he says, settling back into a comfy position with you. He rests his right elbow on the bed, holding his head up with his hand. His left hand tucks some hair behind your ear and cups your cheek so he can lean in for a quick kiss. You hum in response. 
"I can make us breakfast," he adds. But he doesn't move. He stays still, just looking at your face because he thinks you're just—so pretty. 
You nod and push the blanket down your legs, giving you enough mobility to swing your right leg over his waist and straddle his hips. You quickly release your chest onto his, laying on top of him. 
"In a minute. I'll go with you." 
He giggles in response, placing both of his hands on your waist and slowly sliding his hands up and down your body. 
"If you're this tired, you can just relax," he insists. "I'm offering, really."
You shake your head and pull him in tighter, repeating, "In a minute, then I'll come with you." 
He nods softly and halts his protest. His hands lift off your back slowly until only the pads of his middle fingers remain in contact with your skin. He draws swirls and squiggly lines up and down your spine and hips, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in the sensation. The pressure against his body, the softness of your skin, the cushion of the bed. 
"Okay," you declare, placing your palms on his chest and pushing your body up. "Let's go make breakfast." 
For a moment, you're sitting up on his lap with one thigh on either side of him. His chin is tucked down, and his eyes look up at you like he's a little fawn. His hands rest comfortably on your hips, encouraging you to rock back and forth a little. 
"Or," he suggests, "we could stay here a little longer?" He applies pressure to your hips, pushing you down into his own groin. 
Your eyes close instinctively and your head drops forward a little as you release a sigh. 
"That a yes?" he mumbles, his voice gruff. 
"Mhm," you reply with a nod. 
His right hand trails up to your neck, pulling your face down to his as he sits up, meeting you with a kiss. 
Comfort was not always a given at your home—but Eddie always knew just what to do to help you relax a little. 
-
a/n: currently shitting myself in anticipation for volume 2 tonight :,)
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hellfiredup · 3 years ago
Text
A Little Trick - Steve Harrington
word count: 1,248
Tumblr media
It's 2:44 in the afternoon, meaning Steve only has to survive four more hours before he can flip the sign on the door of Family Video. He and Dustin sit behind the counter on pop-up camping chairs watching Carrie, doing anything in their power to make the time pass by faster.
The movie is nearing its end, so Steve stands up and heads to the back room to flick through the "Recent Returns" box. He still can fit in another movie or two before heading home to watch a movie from the private comfort of his own home rather than from behind a counter with Dustin.
Steve returns to the counter when he hears the bell above the door chime. He stops in his tracks when he sees a girl in the store—a pretty girl.
"Hi," she says, smiling shyly with her lips together.
Steve replies with a little wave of his fingers and a crooked smile. She takes the store in for a moment before turning to her left to flip through some tapes on a display shelf.
Steve's eyes follow her for a moment. He quickly ducks down to where Dustin is sitting, fully out of sight of anyone in the store.
"Who is that?" Steve whispers.
Dustin leans back, trying to view the mystery customer without having to get up. They must have gone behind one of the shelves, but he doesn't feel like looking much further. "I dont know." 
Dustin settles comfortably in his chair again, refocusing on the movie. He anticipates Steve taking a seat in the chair next to him so they can finish the movie together, but he's left hanging. He looks up and finds Steve's hands planted on the counter, his mouth slightly agape as he looks in the direction of where the customer went.
"Dude, you're staring," Dustin whispers, tugging on Steve's pant leg.
"Doesn't count if she's facing the other way," Steve quietly replies without looking away from her.
"It so counts," Dustin grumpily retorts.
She reappears from behind a display case and picks up a tape. She flips it over to read the back, and Steve catches a glimpse of her face again before she puts it back in its place. He's suddenly very aware of how messy his hair looks—and how crooked his name tag is.
Steve takes off his name tag and repins it, straight this time. He pops a mint from beneath the counter into his mouth and wipes his hands on his pants. 
"Steve, this is the fourth one today-"
"I'm just doing my job," Steve interrupts, giving Dustin a look. "She looks like she could use some assistance."
He stands up, planting his hands on the counter and flexing his biceps. "Anything I can help you find?"
She looks up at him. "Just looking around. Thanks, though." 
He smiles and nods once, relaxing his arms and glaring at Dustin when he stifles a laugh by pursing his lips. 
Dustin's eyes widen. Steve seems to take Dustin's laugh as a challenge, because before he can stop himself, he's heading to the back and bringing out a box of returned tapes. He sets them on the counter with a huff.
She hears the box drop on the counter and looks up, giving Steve a closed-mouth smile before going back to flicking through tapes on the shelf. 
"I've got a little trick," Steve says. 
She looks up, then behind herself to see who he's talking to. Nobody else is there.
"Me?" she asks, turning to face him. 
He nods and continues. "I always go through the recently returned pile if I'm not sure what I wanna watch. Regulars here rent the same few movies over and over again if they're really good."
She raises her eyebrows and turns her eyes up. "I guess that makes sense." 
Steve smiles, then looks back down at the box. It's silent for a moment, and his fingers tap the sides of the box as he tries to think of what to say.
"You find any good ones recently?" she asks, breaking the silence and catching Steve off guard.  
"Oh, yeah," Steve says. He excitedly looks down to dig through the box. He pulls out Fast Times at Ridgemont High. "Fast Times. It's rare that we have this one. It always flies off the shelf as soon as I restock it." He holds it up so she can read the tape. 
"It has boobs in it," Dustin chimes in from behind the counter. She looks at him and chuckles, noticing the kid for the first time and catching Steve's face turning pink. 
Steve tries to recover. "Uh, yes! It does have, um-"
"Boobs? In it?" she finishes, showing him some mercy with a grin. 
He lets out a sigh. "Yeah," he laughs, looking down.
"I've never seen it," she says. She puts her palm out for him to set the tape in. Her eyes look right at his, confidently. "I'll save you the effort of restocking it."
He grins, placing it in her hand. 
"You got an account with us?" he asks while stepping over to the register. 
She shakes her head. "No, I just moved here." 
He nods, grinning to himself. (At least he thinks it's to himself, but she can totally see it.)
"Can I get your name?" 
She tells him. He repeats it back to her. Not so much as a question—just quietly, as if he's trying it out to see how it feels coming out of his own mouth. He nods as he types it in. 
"And your address?" 
She tells him. It clearly takes a bit of thinking for her. He can tell that she's still not used to reciting that address as her own. 
He turns away from the computer, pulling out an old reciept and a pen. 
"And your number?" he looks up at her and flashes a coy smile. 
"For the account?" she asks knowingly. 
"For me," he answers. Dustin looks at Steve like he's Jesus.
And she tells him. 
"Probably good for me to meet someone around here," she chuckles. "Both of you," she adds, wanting to include the kid behind the counter. The kid smiles widely at her. 
Steve hands her the tape. "It's on me this time." 
She smiles and takes it from him. "Thank you." 
"Just make sure you bring it back on Thursday. That way I can get it back from you myself." 
She smiles at the floor. "Thursday. Got it."
"—And maybe if you come by right before we close, I can show you a good place to eat dinner?" He leans over the counter to softly add, "without the kid." 
She laughs and nods. "Yeah, okay." 
She gives the kid a smile. "Excited for the boobs," she jokes to him, holding up the tape with one hand and pointing to it with the other. He turns red and nods. 
"—And for dinner, Steve," she says, obviously reading his name tag. "'Til Thursday." She takes a step away from the counter. 
"'Til Thursday," he repeats back to her. 
She leaves the store, tape in hand. 
There's a moment of silence where both of the boys follow her out with their eyes. 
"How do you just... do that?" Dustin asks. 
Steve shakes out his hands, closing his eyes. "Lots and lots of practice." He looks at Dustin. "It has boobs in it?" he mocks. 
Dustin raises his shoulders and his hands. "It does!" 
-
a/n: oh my god i haven't written one of these since i was fourteen years old :') feels good to do something anonymous and creative on tumblr again
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